It was Dana’s fortune, for the sake of the picture, that the Pilgrim was an average ship, with an average crew and officers, and managed with average discipline.  Even the hazing that took place after the California coast was reached, was of the average sort.  The Pilgrim savoured not in any way of a hell-ship.  The captain, while not the sweetest-natured man in the world, was only an average down-east driver, neither brilliant nor slovenly in his seamanship, neither cruel nor sentimental in the treatment of his men.  While, on the one hand, there were no extra liberty days, no delicacies added to the meagre forecastle fare, nor grog or hot coffee on double watches, on the other hand the crew were not chronically crippled by the continual play of knuckle-dusters and belaying pins.  Once, and once only, were men flogged or ironed—­a very fair average for the year 1834, for at that time flogging on board merchant vessels was already well on the decline.

The difference between the sea-life then and now can be no better epitomised than in Dana’s description of the dress of the sailor of his day: 

“The trousers tight around the hips, and thence hanging long and loose around the feet, a superabundance of checked shirt, a low-crowned, well-varnished black hat, worn on the back of the head, with half a fathom of black ribbon hanging over the left eye, and a peculiar tie to the black silk neckerchief.”

Though Dana sailed from Boston only three-quarters of a century ago, much that is at present obsolete was then in full sway.  For instance, the old word larboard was still in use.  He was a member of the larboard watch.  The vessel was on the larboard tack.  It was only the other day, because of its similarity in sound to starboard, that larboard was changed to port.  Try to imagine “All larboard bowlines on deck!” being shouted down into the forecastle of a present day ship.  Yet that was the call used on the Pilgrim to fetch Dana and the rest of his watch on deck.

The chronometer, which is merely the least imperfect time-piece man has devised, makes possible the surest and easiest method by far of ascertaining longitude.  Yet the Pilgrim sailed in a day when the chronometer was just coming into general use.  So little was it depended upon that the Pilgrim carried only one, and that one, going wrong at the outset, was never used again.  A navigator of the present would be aghast if asked to voyage for two years, from Boston, around the Horn to California, and back again, without a chronometer.  In those days such a proceeding was a matter of course, for those were the days when dead reckoning was indeed something to reckon on, when running down the latitude was a common way of finding a place, and when lunar observations were direly necessary.  It may be fairly asserted that very few merchant officers of to-day ever make a lunar observation, and that a large percentage are unable to do it.