now that my computer difficulties have now been resolved with the arrival of a MacBook. Although I have to observe that the Apple Online Store hardly covered themselves in glory in this instance, dispatching the machine to the wrong address. The modern notion of customer service is much reduced, I find.

I must not spend too much time on its delights, although I am strangely tempted by Garage Band. I may have to set to music a ditty the crew used to sing of Captain FitzRoy’s robust way with inebriated sailors:

What shall we do with the drunken sailor?
What shall we do with the drunken sailor?
What shall we do with the drunken sailor?
Give him fourteen lashes.

From my Beagle Diary

1831

December 25th

Christmas day is one of great importance to the men: the whole of it has been given up to revelry, at present there is not a sober man in the ship: King is obliged to perform duty of sentry, the last one sentinel came staggering below declaring he would no longer stand sentinel on duty, whereupon he is now in irons getting sober as fast as he can. — Wherever they may be, they claim Christmas day for themselves, & this they exclusively give up to drunkedness — that sole & never failing pleasure to which a sailor always looks forward to.

Monday 26th

A beautiful day, & an excellent one for sailing, — the opportunity has been lost owing to the drunkedness & absence of nearly the whole crew. — The ship has been all day in state of anarchy. One days holiday has caused all this mischief; such a scene proves how absolutely necessary strict discipline is amongst such thoughtless beings as Sailors are.- Several have paid the penalty for insolence, by sitting for eight or nine hours in heavy chains. — Whilst in this state, their conduct was like children, abusing every body & thing but themselves, & the next moment nearly crying. — It is an unfortunate beginning, being obliged so early to punish so many of our best men there was however no choice left as to the necessity of doing it. In the evening Dined in gun-room & had a pleasant evening.

December 28th

Waked in the morning with an eight knot per hour wind, & soon became sick & remained so during the whole day. — My thoughts most unpleasantly occupied with the flogging of several men for offences brought on by the indulgence granted them on Christmas day. — I am doubtful whether this makes their crime drunkedness & consequent insolence more or less excusable.

(The diary is as I jotted it down, sick and on a pitching ship, so if Maxine can find it in her editorial soul not to correct the obvious errors…)