eight
o'clock in the evening
Nothing was to be seen but sheets of ghostly white water sweeping up the blackness on the vessel 's lee , or breaking and boiling to windward . It was sheer blind chaos to the sight , and you might have supposed that the brig was in the midst of some enormous vaporous turmoil , so illusive and indefinable were the shadows of the storm-tormented night -- one block of blackness melting into another , with sometimes an extraordinary faintness of light speeding along the dark sky like to the dim reflection of a lanthorn flinging its radiance from afar , which no doubt must have been the reflection of some particular bright and extensive bed of foam upon a sooty belly on high , hanging lower than the other clouds . I say , you might have thought yourself in the midst of some hellish conflict of vapour but for the substantial thunder of the surges upon the vessel and the shriek of the slung masses of water flying like cannon balls between the masts . After a long and eager look round into the obscurity , semi-lucent with froth , I went below for a mouthful of spirits and a bite of supper , the hour being eight bells in the second dog watch as we say , that is , eight o'clock in the evening . The captain and carpenter were in the cabin . Upon the swing-tray over the table were a piece of corned beef , some biscuit , and a bottle of hollands . `` Nothing to be seen , I suppose , Rodney ? ''