In every vacant space between the casks and boxes, what I may call the overflow of the passengers crouched and squatted. There is no such thing as a limit to the number of passengers a Bulgarian steamer may carry, and the bulk of the passengers had come early and taken possession of the deck. The cabin, with its half-dozen grimy, squalid berths, was fully occupied. The foulness of the air, combined with the odour of bilge water, the stench of greasy cooking and of inferior garlic, as well as that special scent peculiar to steamboat cabins all the world over, rendered it untenable, except by natives who were utterly prostrated by sea-sickness.
No attempt, I should think, had ever been made within living memory to clean the vessel or swab the decks. If any such attempt had been made, it had assuredly proved unsuccessful The only seat I could find vacant was on the top of a wine-butt. The seat, such as it was, had the merit of keeping your feet clear of the greasy, sloppy deck, over which the water washed every time the steamer rolled. The sea, as we are told by Euripides, if my memory serves me right, cleanses everything, but it failed to wash one coating of dirt off the deck of our steamer. Luckily, we had a stern wind, so that the vessel did not plunge, but she rolled steadily from the time we left the shelter of Varna down to that at which we got under the headland protecting Bourgas.
Belgian gentleman
Everybody almost was ill. For me, fortunately, the sea has no terrors, in as far as my stomach is concerned; and the scene on the deck was curious enough to interest anybody for whom it possessed the charm of novelty. A Belgian gentleman, who, I gathered, was connected with the contract for the construction of the Bourgas breakwaters, was the only first-class passenger besides myself. But, as the steerage passengers had the run of the ship equally with ourselves, I do not know that we derived any practical benefit from the distinction. There were not many foreigners on board of any kind.
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