Status Updates From The Open Boat (Annotated)

"And the oiler rowed, and then the correspondent rowed. Then the oiler rowed. It was a weary business. The human back can become the seat of more aches and pains than are registered in books for the composite anatomy of a regiment. It is a limited area, but it can become of the theatre of innumerable muscular conflicts, tangles, wrenches, knots and other comforts."

"Their backbones had become thoroughly used to balancing in the boat, and they now rode this wild cold of a dinghy like circus men.... After a search, somebody produced three dry matches, and thereupon the four waifs in their little boat, with an assurance of an impending rescue shining in their eyes, puffed at their big cigars and judged well and ill of all men. Everybody took a drink of water."

"None of them knew the color of the sky. Their eyes glanced level, and were fastened upon the waves that swept toward them. These waves were of the hue of slate, save for the tops, which were of foaming white, and all of the men knew the colors of the sea. The horizon narrowed and widened, dipped and rose, and at all times its edge was jagged with waves which seemed to thrust up in points like rocks."

Uau Uau Uau

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