We sailed from Cork on the 25th, and got into the wide and open sea, when I saw, for the first time, the horizon of blue water all round. I now came in contact with those who were my messmates, among them a number of masters’ mates, whom the Admiralty did not promote, but gave them the option of serving on.[2] The duties of these elderly gentlemen were mostly nominal; they were styled mates of the hold or of stores, etc. They seldom appeared on deck except on Sundays, when they took their week’s exercise. Their uniform was a blue coat, in shape like our now plain evening-dress, anchor buttons and a small white cord edging, white pantaloons, Hessian boots, cocked hat, and sword. [2] Navy List of date records 3786 lieutenants in service. [Illustration: _Ship Mates._] It was considered a compliment to be spoken to by them. I was favoured by being asked if I had not come to sea to avenge the death of Nelson. Others were anxious to know if my mother cried when I left home. Down in the midshipmen’s berth they reigned supreme; spoke very little before grog-time; then a fork was stuck in the beam, a signal for us youngsters to scuttle out as fast as we could. A servant was told off to look after me. I forgot his name, and asked one of my aged shipmates; word was passed along the lower deck for “Cheeks,” the marine. There was no place for midshipmen’s stores, except the lockers on which we sat. Each of us was supposed to bring two table-cloths; one lasted a week, when the steward--his name Edward Low, but called “Tommie Plenty”--took possession of it to wipe knives, forks, cups, and spoons. It smelt before the next was due. We had no candlesticks. Dips obtained from the purser were stuck in bottles supported by forks fixed where the planks of the table had shrunk. One morning, when “Tommie” was holystoning under the table, the point of a fork lifted his scalp. While he was on the sick-list we youngsters had to do cooking, etc. I often confirmed Marryat’s story of the mid running along the main-deck with a tureen of pea-soup, calling “Scaldings!” to clear the way. One of our old mates had served in a fast-cruising frigate, when, owing to the number of prizes taken, officers being sent away in charge, the duties fell heavily on those remaining. Our messmate had to keep watch and watch. At last his turn came. On taking charge of the prize, the frigate having made sail, he sent for the petty officer, a gunner in charge of the prize crew, and told him to steer north-east and call him in three weeks. [Sidenote: June 5.]