noon
The sun was not yet up before the tug cast off the hawser , gave us a salute of three whistles , and turned homeward toward the coast , which now began to gleam along its margin with the earliest rays of day . There was no other ship in view when the _ Norah Creina _ , lying over under all plain sail , began her long and lonely voyage to the wreck . I love to recall the glad monotony of a Pacific voyage , when the trades are not stinted , and the ship , day after day , goes free . The mountain scenery of trade-wind clouds , watched -LRB- and in my case painted -RRB- under every vicissitude of light -- blotting stars , withering in the moon 's glory , barring the scarlet eve , lying across the dawn collapsed into the unfeatured morning bank , or at noon raising their snowy summits between the blue roof of heaven and the blue floor of sea ; the small , busy , and deliberate world of the schooner , with its unfamiliar scenes , the spearing of dolphin from the bowsprit end , the holy war on sharks , the cook making bread on the main hatch ; reefing down before a violent squall , with the men hanging out on the foot-ropes ; the squall itself , the catch at the heart , the opened sluices of the sky ; and the relief , the renewed loveliness of life , when all is over , the sun forth again , and our out-fought enemy only a blot upon the leeward sea . I love to recall , and would that I could reproduce that life , the unforgettable , the unrememberable . The memory , which shows so wise a backwardness in registering pain , is besides an imperfect recorder of extended pleasures ; and a long-continued well-being escapes -LRB- as it were , by its mass -RRB- our petty methods of commemoration . On a part of our life 's map there lies a roseate , undecipherable haze , and that is all .