THE WRECK
I was apprenticed to the Sea when I was twelve years old, and I have
encountered a great deal of rough weather, both literal and metaphorical. It
has always been my opinion since I first possessed such a thing as an
opinion, that the man who knows only one subject is next tiresome to the
man who knows no subject. Therefore, in the course of my life I have
taught myself whatever I could, and although I am not an educated man, I
am able, I am thankful to say, to have an intelligent interest in most things.
A person might suppose, from reading the above, that I am in the habit
of holding forth about number one. That is not the case. Just as if I was to
come into a room among strangers, and must either be introduced or
introduce myself, so I have taken the liberty of passing these few remarks,
simply and plainly that it may be known who and what I am. I will add no
more of the sort than that my name is William George Ravender, that I
was born at Penrith half a year after my own father was drowned, and that
I am on the second day of this present blessed Christmas week of one
thousand eight hundred and fifty-six, fifty-six years of age.