‘What spirits?.. What salt?.. What coffee?’

On October 18, an officious customs officer comes on board Dulcibella at Bensersiel: … the customhouse officer (fancy such a thing in this absurd mud-hole!), marched down into the cabin, which was in a fearful mess and wringing wet, and producing ink, pen, and a huge printed form, wanted to know our cargo, our crew,Continue reading “‘What spirits?.. What salt?.. What coffee?’”