Down South by Oliver Optic

I turned out the next morning, or rather the same morning, only in season for breakfast. I had put my letter in the mail-box, and it had gone ashore in the first boat at four o'clock. I kept an anchor watch all night in port, which was divided up amongst all hands in the sailing and engineer's department, except myself. Word had been passed from watch to watch to call the steward and a boat's crew at half past three. The boats were hoisted up to the davits at night, and it required some time to get one into the water.

When I went in to breakfast, I found that Washburn had gone ashore in the steward's boat, and had not yet returned. He was the only person on board, besides myself, who had liberty to leave the vessel without my permission, or his, if I was not on board. But the steamer had been put in perfect order the day before, and she never was in better condition than when I looked her over after breakfast. The day was bright and clear, as nearly all the days were in Florida. Every officer and seaman had put on his best uniform, and we were in "show" order, above and below decks.