If I had assumed the Captain would mellow out after the
storm, I was mistaken. He never flogged me, but he threatened it repeatedly. I
did learn more about sailing on this voyage, and I worked hard to do my duty.
It did not take me any time to discover I had little or nothing in common with
the other crewmen. And it did not hurt my feelings that they had all decided
early on to shun me as much as possible. I started spending any time I had off
duty in my hammock with my Bible. I devoured it, praying for God to explain
everything I read. I discovered that I could read a passage over and over and
God would speak new things to me every time I read it. The violent threats of
Captain Daniels helped my praying. I know that sounds strange, but they did. I
would go on duty where the Captain was demanding the impossible and threatening
the unthinkable. I knew only God could help me. I began to cry out to God
between my teeth, every moment I was on duty. I prayed when I felt weak or
frustrated or terrified. That was most of the time. I was forced into the habit
of praying. And I tried to keep it up, even when I did not have to pray to stay
alive. Evidently my prayers were not quite as silent as I had thought. The
other crew members seemed to notice. At first they made jokes about my praying.
But when they saw I did not really care, they started avoiding me even more.
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