From the novel: Hunt of the Sea Wolves, Chapter 21, page 77
Because of the nature of its mission and the need to control rumors, the team was isolated in one of the smaller berthing spaces. The space was self-contained with its own head, and was comprised of modular bunk beds. Each bunk had its own curtain that provided meager privacy, and a small reading lamp mounted in the upper corner. The bunks were designed so that the bed was the lid to the locker where the fifteen sailors who normally slept here stored their clothing and personal items. It was often said that many prisons afforded their inmates more personal room than sailors had aboard most ships.
It was a few minutes after one in the morning, when Moses woke up. He lay in the bunk a few seconds as he tried to remember where he was. The room was dark except for a red light near the floor. He could hear men snoring and the sound of creaking metal as the ship swayed.
In an effort to smooth the MARCOS operatives’ ruffled feathers a bit, he had drunk several cups of tea as they got to know one another better. Now he really needed to piss. He had put it off because of the ship’s constant rolling and pitching. There was no putting it off any longer. He didn’t look forward to trying to make it to the head, but there was no choice, his swollen bladder couldn’t take the beating from the ship’s incessant pounding any longer.
Moses released the strap across his chest that held him firmly in the bunk and swung out, careful not to bump his head on the bunk a little more than a foot above his own. He inched out of the bunk, stood and held onto bunks on either side of the narrow row between them for balance. He was careful to hold on to a bunk on either side to maintain his footing.
A single red bulb was all the light in the head and Moses held onto a pipe that ran across the bulkhead above the six urinals. Water sloshed out of all six and spread across the deck to a drain.