No more beautiful sight can be imagined than a morning at sea, with these magnificent vessels racing in mid-ocean, perhaps two or three of them in sight at once; the sun rising amid golden clouds; the dark blue sea flecked with glistening white caps; long, low black hulls cleaving a pathway of sparkling foam; towering masts, and yards covered with snowy canvas which bellies to the crisp morning breeze as if sculptured in marble; the officers alert and keen for the contest; the African cook showing his woolly head and grinning, good-natured face out through the weather door of the galley, while the wholesome odor of steaming coffee gladdens the hearts of officers and men. And after all, when has anything ever tasted half so refreshing as a tin pot of hot coffee, sweetened with molasses, under the lee of the weather bulwark, in the chill dawn of the morning watch? The third mate walks over to the lee side and knocks the ashes out of his pipe against the rail, and as the sparks fly far to leeward, like falling stars among the foaming waves, he sings out, “Turn to there forward and wash down decks; boatswain, take a pair of those gulpins and rig the head pump; the rest of you get the gear triced up.” The watch, with sand, buckets of water, and brooms, barefooted and with trousers rolled up to their knees, begin to scrub and scrub and scrub. Then when the sun has dried out ropes and canvas, the gear is swayed up fore and aft, with watch tackles on the chain topsail sheets, and a hearty: “Way haul away, Haul away the bowline, Way haul away, Haul away, Joe!” The halliards are led along the deck fore and aft in the grip of clean brawny fists with sinewy arms and broad backs behind them, the ordinary seamen and boys tailing on, and perhaps the cook, steward, carpenter, and sailmaker lending a hand, and all hands join in a ringing chorus of the ocean, mingling in harmony with the clear sky, indigo-blue waves, and the sea breeze purring aloft among the spars and rigging: “Oh, poor Reuben Ranzo, Ranzo, boys, O Ranzo, Oh, Ranzo was no sailor, Ranzo boys, O Ranzo. So they shipped him aboard a whaler, Ranzo boys, O Ranzo, And he could not do his duty, Ranzo boys, O Ranzo. So the mate, he being a bad man, Ranzo boys, O Ranzo, He led him to the gangway, Ranzo boys, O Ranzo, And he gave him five-and-twenty, Ranzo boys, O Ranzo, But the captain, he being a good man, Ranzo boys, O Ranzo, He took him in the cabin, Ranzo boys, O Ranzo, And he gave him wine and whiskey, Ranzo boys, O Ranzo, And he learned him navigation, Ranzo boys, O Ranzo, And now he’s Captain Ranzo, Ranzo boys, O Ranzo.”