When Jack Tar abandoned his tarpaulin petticoat his backbone remained where it had always been, and it is still stiff. If the smell of hemp has been succeeded by the reek of oil, his nose is still keen on the scent of the enemy. To bring him into the fight quicker, the creaking of the sails has given place to the rhythm of the turbine. Jack's immediate environment has altered but the sea has not, and Jack is very much like the sea.