Fuselli and another man carried the dripping garbage-can up the ladder that led up from the mess hall. It smelt of rancid grease and coffee grounds and greasy juice trickled over their fingers as they struggled with it. At last they burst out on to the deck where a free wind blew out of the black night. They staggered unsteadily to the rail and emptied the pail into the darkness. The splash was lost in the sound of the waves and of churned water fleeing along the sides. Fuselli leaned over the rail and looked down at the faint phosphorescence that was the only light in the whole black gulf. He had never seen such darkness before. He clutched hold of the rail with both hands, feeling lost and terrified in the blackness, in the roaring of the wind in his ears and the sound of churned water fleeing astern. The alternative was the stench of below decks. “I'll bring down the rosie, don't you bother,” he said to the other man, kicking the can that gave out a ringing sound as he spoke. He strained his eyes to make out something. The darkness seemed to press in upon his eyeballs, blinding him. Suddenly he noticed voices near him. Two men were talking. “I ain't never seen the sea before this, I didn't know it was like this.” “We're in the zone, now.” “That means we may go down any minute.” “Yare.” “Christ, how black it is.... It'ld be awful to drown in the dark like this.” “It'ld be over soon.” “Say, Fred, have you ever been so skeered that...?” “D'you feel a-skeert?” “Feel my hand, Fred.... No.... There it is. God, it's so hellish black you can't see yer own hand.” “It's cold. Why are you shiverin' so? God, I wish I had a drink.” “I ain't never seen the sea before...I didn't know...” Fuselli heard distinctly the man's teeth chattering in the darkness. “God, pull yerself together, kid. You can't be skeered like this.” “O God.” There was a long pause. Fuselli heard nothing but the churned water speeding along the ship's side and the wind roaring in his ears. “I ain't never seen the sea before this time, Fred, an' it sort o' gits my goat, all this sickness an' all.... They dropped three of 'em overboard yesterday.” “Hell, kid, don't think of it.” “Say, Fred, if I... if I... if you're saved, Fred, an' not me, you'll write to my folks, won't you?” “Indeed I will. But I reckon you an' me'll both go down together.” “Don't say that. An' you won't forget to write that girl I gave you the address of?” “You'll do the same for me.” “Oh, no, Fred, I'll never see land.... Oh, it's no use. An' I feel so well an' husky.... I don't want to die. I can't die like this.” “If it only wasn't so goddam black.” PART TWO: THE METAL COOLS I