I boarded her once at midnight somewhere off the Patagonian coast, and drank good flip down in the forecastle. 有一回，我在半夜里，曾经在巴塔哥尼亚洋面的什么地方上过这艘船，还在船头楼里喝过一趟香甜的烫啤酒。

It was a fine gam we had, and they were all trumps—every soul on board. 可真是一次愉快的联欢，他们都是些英雄好汉——船上每个人都如此。

A short life to them, and a jolly death. 他们是活得短命，却死得痛快。

And that fine gam I had— long, very long after old Ahab touched her planks with his ivory heel— it minds me of the noble, solid, Saxon hospitality of that ship; 我所过的那个愉快的联欢——是距亚哈的牙腿碰上他们的船板以后很久很久的事——使我想起了那艘船完全充满着一种高贵的、实实在在的、萨克逊人的好客精神；

and may my parson forget me, and the devil remember me, if I ever lose sight of it. 但愿我的牧师忘记我，魔鬼惦记我，如果我把它忘记了的话。

Flip? Did I say we had flip? 香甜的烫啤酒？我不是说过我们喝了香甜的烫啤酒么？

Yes, and we flipped it at the rate of ten gallons the hour; 不错，我们呀，平均每个钟头要喝十个加仑；

and when the squall came (for it's squally off there by Patagonia), and all hands— visitors and all—were called to reef topsails, 等到狂风一来（因为在巴塔哥尼亚海上经常要起狂风），大家——包括客人在内——都被请去帮着收起中桅帆，

we were so top-heavy that we had to swing each other aloft in bowlines; 可是，我们都头重脚轻，只能互相把彼此缚在帆脚索里高高地吊上去；

and we ignorantly furled the skirts of our jackets into the sails, so that we hung there, reefed fast in the howling gale, a warning example to all drunken tars. 我们昏头昏脑地把衣裾也给卷到帆里去了，所以大家就都挂在那上面，在咆哮的大风里给紧紧地勒住了，成为一切喝得烂醉的水手的一个足资警戒的榜样。

However, the masts did not go overboard; and by and by we scrambled down, so sober, that we had to pass the flip again, 好在桅杆还没有给翻折到海里去；所以，慢慢地我们就爬下来了，神志清醒得又非去再喝一顿不可，

though the savage salt spray bursting down the forecastle scuttle, rather too much diluted and pickled it for my taste. 虽然狂涛噼噼啪啪地泼进了船头楼的舷窗，尝起来味道未免非常淡，又有点咸滋滋的味儿。