Call me Ishmael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. Hence I solemnly took to the ship in a blind effort to appease my drizzling soul. Unbeknownst to me was the fateful event this voyage would present. Having a shortage of fresh water, the men resigned themselves to not washing their hands after the moving of their bowels, causing a severe occurrence of stomach cramps and other unpleasant digestive symptoms. Perhaps if I had taken solace in the land, I would never have set foot on that cursed ship.