It seems to me that all my life before that momentous day is infinitely remote, a fading memory of lighthearted youth, something on the other side of a shadow. Yes, sails may very well be blown away. And that would be like a death sentence on the men. We haven’t strength enough on board to bend another suit; incredible thought, but it is true. Or we may even get dismasted. Ships have been dismasted in squalls simply because they weren’t handled quick enough, and we have no power to whirl the yards around. It’s like being bound hand and foot preparatory to having one’s throat cut. And what appals me most of all is that I shrink from going on deck to face it. It’s due to the ship, it’s due to the men who are there on deck⁠—some of them, ready to put out the last remnant of their strength at a word from me. And I am shrinking from it. From the mere vision. My first command. Now I understand that strange sense of insecurity in my past. I always suspected that I might be no good. And here is proof positive. I am shirking it. I am no good.”