seen from Türkiye
seen from Czechia
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'I shall step ashore now, by this convenient bridge or gangway; for were we in the middle I should have to go down into a boat, and I am not always quite at my ease, going down into a boat. You may have noticed it.'
'Not at all, sir, not at all,' said Pullings. 'Anyone can slip, just a little.'
— Patrick O’Brian, The Reverse of the Medal
The whole quarterdeck and the greater part of the ship’s company were gazing at the resuscitated Doctor, his older shipmates with plain delight, the others with heavy wonder: Pullings went so far as to push between the captain and the surgeon and to seize him by the arm.
–H.M.S. Surprise, Patrick O'Brian
‘Why is the ship so quiet? No bells, Is anyone dead?’
‘No, sir. But Captain Pullings said any sod as woke you should have a hundred lashes.’
The Wine-Dark Sea, Patrick O'Brian
Pullings thrust in his knife, thrust in his spoon, and his anxiety gave way to triumph. 'There, Doctor,' he said, passing Stephen his plate. 'There's my surprise - there's your real welcome aboard!'
'Bless me,' cried Stephen, staring at his goose and truffle pie - more truffle than goose - 'Mr Pullings, joy, I am amazed, amazed and delighted.'
'I hoped you might be,' said Pullings, and he explained to the others that long ago, when first made lieutenant, he had seen that the Doctor loved trubs, so he had gone out into the forest, the New Forest, where he lived by land, and had dug him a basket, by way of welcome aboard.
--The Ionian Mission, Patrick O'Brian
In Which Stephen is Late (Again) but No One Can Stay Mad
He knew he had behaved very ill, and that he was in disgrace. Bonden, though an old friend, had greeted him without a smile, saying ‘You have cut it precious fine, sir. Do you know you have very nearly made us miss the tide, And may yet.’
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‘Upon my word, Doctor,’ said Mowett, the officer of the watch, ‘you have cut it pretty fine, I must say. You very nearly made us miss our tide. What was you thinking of? And you are all wet - sopping wet. How did you get so wet?’
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Mr Pullings, standing by the weather rail, looking stiff and remote, said, ‘The rendezvous was for the height of flood two tides ago, sir,’ with no kind word of greeting.
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Pulling’s grim expression softened a little. He said, ‘You got a ducking, I see. You must not stand there in wet clothes: you will catch your death of cold.
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The cabin door opened. 'Well, Doctor,’ said Jack, looking even taller than usual and far more intimidating. ‘Good morning to you, or rather good afternoon. This is a strange hour to report aboard - this is cutting it pretty fine - this is coming it tolerably high, I believe. Do you know you very nearly made us miss our tide?
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‘Jack,’ said Stephen, shedding his breeches in the cabin, ‘I beg your pardon. I am very sorry for my lateness. I regret it extremely.’
‘Punctuality,’ said Captain Aubrey: but then, feeling that this, the beginning of a homily on the great naval virtue, was hardly generous, he shook Stephen’s free hand and went on, 'Damn my eyes, I was like a cat on hot tiles all through this vile morning and afternoon; so I spoke a little hasty.’
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Pullings and Mowett by the door, drinking grog and evidently waiting for Stephen.
'Here you are, Doctor,’ cried Pullings, shaking his hand. 'On time to the second.’ He was smiling all over his tanned friendly face, but there was more than a hint of anxiety in his eye, and in a low voice he went on, 'Poor Mowett is afraid he upset you, sir, playing off his humours when you came aboard: it was only our fun, you know, sir, but we were afraid you might not have twigged it, being, as I might say, so uncommonly damp.’
'Never in life, my dear,’ said Stephen.
–The Ionian Mission, Patrick O'Brian
(An ongoing series of condensed sagas)
A little after sunset he climbed up from a bottomless sleep, in a ship as silent as the grave, the light fading fast. He gathered himself into the present, collecting the immediate past, thanked God for his delivery, and then said, ‘But what’s amiss? Am I really here and alive?’ He moved, feeling himself: the weakness was authentic, so was his gummed-up, itching eye and his unshaven face. So was his consuming thirst. ‘Ahoy, there,’ he called, but without much conviction. ‘Sir?’ cried Grimble, Killick’s mate. ‘Light along a jug of water, just tinged with wine.’ And when he had drained it he asked, gasping, ‘Why is the ship so quiet? No bells, is anyone dead?’ ‘No, sir. But Captain Pullings said any sod as woke you should have a hundred lashes.’
-The Wine-Dark Sea, Patrick O'Brian
‘Come, you must go below and to bed. M’Alister shall physic you. Mr M’Alister, pray take Dr Maturin below -,’
‘Let me carry you, sir,’ said Pullings.
‘I will give you a hand,’ said Hervey.
The whole quarterdeck and the greater part of the ship’s company were gazing at the resuscitated Doctor, his older shipmates with plain delight, the others with heavy wonder: Pullings went so far as to push between the captain and the surgeon and to seize him by the arm.
— Patrick O’Brian, HMS Surprise
Pullings and Mowett by the door, drinking grog and evidently waiting for Stephen.
‘Here you are, Doctor,’ cried Pullings, shaking his hand. 'On time to the second.’ He was smiling all over his tanned friendly face, but there was more than a hint of anxiety in his eye, and in a low voice he went on, 'Poor Mowett is afraid he upset you, sir, playing off his humours when you came aboard: it was only our fun, you know, sir, but we were afraid you might not have twigged it, being, as I might say, so uncommonly damp.’
'Never in life, my dear,’ said Stephen.
–The Ionian Mission, Patrick O'Brian
