forecastle


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forecastle

, fo'c's'le, fo'c'sle
the part of a vessel at the bow where the crew is quartered and stores, machines, etc., may be stowed
References in classic literature ?
The rush of expectant men out of the forecastle, the snatching of hand-spikes, the tramp of feet, the clink of the pawls, make a stirring accompaniment to a plaintive up-anchor song with a roaring chorus; and this burst of noisy activity from a whole ship's crew seems like a voiceful awakening of the ship herself, till then, in the picturesque phrase of Dutch seamen, "lying asleep upon her iron.
Gradually she loses her way, hardly moving, with the three figures on her forecastle waiting attentively about the cat-head for the last order of, perhaps, full ninety days at sea: "Let go
We put old Redruth in the gallery between the cabin and the forecastle, with three or four loaded muskets and a mattress for protection.
Thus passed the long evenings on the forecastle in merry chat, and during the same time the doctor went on with his instructive discourses.
John Barleycorn had thrown him, and he was winding up his career where he had begun it, in the forecastle.
Now Victor was the smartest sailor and best-tempered shipmate in the forecastle.
Five minutes afterwards my bonds were cut, I was hoisted on a man's back, carried up to the forecastle, and laid in a bunk on some sea-blankets; where the first thing that I did was to lose my senses.
The forecastle was a roomy place enough, set all about with berths, in which the men of the watch below were seated smoking, or lying down asleep.
Four, however, escaped and disappeared into the forecastle, where they hoped to barricade themselves against further assault.
In heavy clusters they hung upon the forecastle all ready for a spring-faces white, faces brown, faces yellow, and faces black, fair Norsemen, swarthy Italians, fierce rovers from the Levant, and fiery Moors from the Barbary States, of all hues and countries, and marked solely by the common stamp of a wild-beast ferocity.
The sailors assembled in a fearful group just outside the forecastle scuttle and watched and listened.
At this moment, leaning on the forecastle bulwark, I saw below me Ned Land grappling the martingale in one hand, brandishing his terrible harpoon in the other, scarcely twenty feet from the motionless animal.