Last-minute rations had been fetched aboard, along with some sheep, pigs, and a bullock for supper on the eve of sailing, and for fresh meat for the first few days on-passage. The officers’ wardroom and Lewrie’s cabins had been re-stocked with the many needful things that would be unavailable or in short supply on their long voyage to England. For Lewrie, Mister Cadbury the Purser had purchased several one-gallon stone crocks of aged American corn whisky, and an hundred-weight weight of jerked, smoked, or cured meats and hard sausages for his cats and, begrudgingly, for Bisquit, the ship’s dog. He might be a playful pest, might still foul the decks, and took to howling whenever Lewrie tried to practice on his penny-whistle, but Lewrie had grown somewhat fond of the beast. “Pettus, wos ’em things in th’ quarter-gallery?” young Jessop, the cabin servant, asked the cabin steward as Captain Lewrie finished his pre-sailing breakfast in the forward dining coach, dressed in casual and comfortable old sea clothes, with the finery packed away.
