of square rigged ocean sailing on The H.M. Bark Endeavour . With the ship due to arrive tomorrow, this is his story.

The H.M. Bark Endeavour will arrive in Hamilton today after a topsy turvy trans-Atlantic crossing from Halifax, Nova Scotia.

On board engines were used for the first time yesterday during the ship's final approach to the Island after some 790 miles of sail propulsion.

But motion in the ocean gave the crew some serious commotion during the ship's final two days on the high seas.

Strong winds, opposing ocean currents, and six to eight foot swells tossed the 18th century replica from wave to wave.

Gusts over 35 knots -- or a misguided turn by one of the temporary crew at the helm -- occasionally sent cascades of water across the ship's mid-section.

Crew members looked as if they were in a comical pantomime as they constantly walked 30 degrees off centre, or lurched from one handhold to another.

The hardy ship held true to her course, but leaned heavily to starboard or rolled continuously, sending unwary mariners, crockery and anything else which was unfastened crashing into bulkheads.

Mealtimes in the galley were especially interesting as diners adopted a "wait, lunge, wait, grab'' approach to seating.

"One hand for yourself, one hand for the ship,'' was a common call from the more experienced mariners aboard.

But at times bold novices disregarded the advice and attempted daring manoeuvres with full plates of food in one hand, and soup or tea in the other.

The results were usually messy.

At least the rollercoaster ride led to a deeper appreciation of one of history's enduring artifacts -- the hammock.

Every night for the past week the working class members of the ship have slung these poor man's beds from the ceiling of the "18th century deck''.

Hoisting oneself five feet into the air and getting inside was the easy part.

Doing so without swinging into a neighbour was more difficult.

Once inside, the hammocks were surprisingly snug and secure -- no one fell out for the entire voyage -- and are the most stable areas to be found on a pitching ship.

And for the past two days weary crew were rocked to sleep by the gentle sounds of clanging pots, crashing coffee mugs, and violently protesting timbers.

Endeavour finally pulled out of the worst of the ocean undertow early on Wednesday morning to make a 100 mile sprint to reach Bermuda ahead of schedule.

Ironically, the end has come just as the ragtag crew of volunteer mariners have finally become settled into their roles as 18th Century mariners manning a very demanding machine.

Even for the most enthusiastic, the schedule was arduous.

Rise at seven -- unless you are on the 5 a.m. to 8 a.m. shift -- stow your hammock and eat breakfast.

Next, clean the ship. Sweep, scrub and mop the same deck that was swept, scrubbed and mopped the day before. Same for the toilets, the tables, the counters, and everything that does not run away.

During the mid-morning period attend a lecture on sailing or navigation until lunch.

After a two-hour lunch interval, go back on deck to sand, paint, oil, plait, tar as necessary.

Eat dinner around 5 p.m. and then, if you are lucky, stand watch on the early shift and sleep for a full seven hours.

More likely than not, you instead have to stand watch from 5 p.m. to 8 p.m.

and then again from 11 p.m. to 2 a.m.

At any point during the day -- or night -- the call for "all hands on deck'' may sound to call everyone from sleeping, eating, or working to muster on the top deck.

Depending on your disposition, you may have the fortune or misfortune to climb aloft into the rigging to furl or unfurl sails as ocean waves rush far beneath your feet.

Days are long at sea.

The basic lesson? Eat and work -- as fast as possible -- when told. Sleep whenever you can.

Every aspect of life revolves around the ship and the weather, and time moves differently on the sea than it does on land.

No-one on board the Endeavour questions the routine any longer. In fact it has been embraced. Now it is the world of nine to five which seems strange. "What day is it today?'' was frequently asked -- often in the same day by the same person.

The voyage crew who chose to spend their holiday working in the past now return to the present and most seem to look forward to the prospect with mixed feelings of relief and regret.

Everyone has a tale to tell of the first time they climbed the rigging, or -- now that the memory is fading -- how sick they felt during the voyage's first few days.

Despite the horror stories, hard work, and longing for terra firma, everyone leaves with a feeling of affection for Endeavour and a deeper respect for Captain Cook and the men who boldly set off where few had gone before.