The days pass happily with me wherever my ship sails.

Now, it it well known that one cannot step on a tack without saying something about it.

About midnight the fog shut down again denser than before. One could almost "stand on it." It continued so for a number of days, the wind increasing to a gale. The waves rose high, but I had a good ship. Still, in the dismal fog I felt myself drifting into loneliness, an insect on the straw in the midst of the elements.

And now, without having wearied my friends, I hope, with detailed scientific accounts, theories, or deductions, I will only say that I have endeavoured to tell just the story of the adventure itself.

The days pass happily with me wherever my ship sails.

I was born in the breezes, and I had studied the sea as perhaps few men have studied it, neglecting all else.

To young men contemplating a voyage I would say go.