Robertson draws upon his own rich and wild experience as a seaman on the Atlantic to write his sea tales and novels. Sinful Peck begins: Tim had dealt kindly with Captain Jackson. There were a few deep lines in his weather-worn face and a sprinkling of silver in his hair, but he carried his six-foot-six of bone and muscle as erect as in youth, his stride was as springy as ever, and his gray eyes seemed to have an added keenness coming of the years. None would have thought, as he paced the poop-deck beside his seasoned second officer, that there was a difference of thirty years in their ages, even though Mr. Brown had one of those wrinkled, good-humored, quizzical faces that look the same at twenty as at fifty. Mr. Brown was thirty years old, the captain was sixty.