violent motion; I could, from my position in the cot, look out through the stern windows; and I saw that there was a heavy sea running, and the roar of the wind through the rigging, which was distinctly audible above the sound of creaking timbers, rattling doors, trampling feet, and the swish of heavy showers of spray upon the deck, told me it was blowing hard. I felt so greatly recovered, however, that I resolved to get up, and, springing out of the cot, I proceeded to dress myself with as much alacrity as the rolling and pitching of the ship would permit. While engaged in this occupation, the doctor entered the cabin.
"Hillo!" he exclaimed, "turning out, eh? Well done, young gentleman. Steady! you have not shipped your sea-legs yet, as our friend the first lieutenant would say; you must be cautious, or you will be thrown against something or other, and get a nasty knock. Well, and how do you feel this morning?"
"A trifle weak," I replied, "that's all. I dare say I shall be better whe
If you've exhausted all the good authors of Napoleonic naval action then this will do until you find something better. It reads more like a journal of events than a plotted novel. The pre-WWI writing is of course rather stilted and pedantic.
On the plus side, Collingwood knows his ships. The lingo of the bos'n when raising anchor or setting sail would be good reference material for a modern author writing on this subject.