The crew mocked him and laughed.
"Jounce ye, an' strip ye, an' trip ye!" yelled Uncle Abishai.

"A livin' gale--a livin' gale.

Yah! Cast up fer your last trip, all you Gloucester haddocks.

You won't see Gloucester no more, no more!" "Crazy full--as usual," said Tom Platt.

"Wish he hadn't spied us, though." She drifted out of hearing while the greyhead yelled something about a dance at the Bay of Bulls and a dead man in the fo'c'sle.