Monday 24th. Soon after we parted from you, we anchored again, waiting for a change of tide. Soon hove up & stood out with a light breeze in company with quite a Reet, some thirty small craft: Packet “Albany” for Havre, & “Pilot” for Batavia (arrived at Anjer some twenty days before us) .

The spout we noticed turned out to be from a real whale (a fin-back), not the sea breaking over a rock as you supposed. My chest was now in a room 2½ by 3½ feet wide under two others; two berths in the back. Here were crammed “four boys.” (Accommodations for four young gentlemen with sleeping apartments attached.) I was very little sea sick. Chose into the second mate’s (Starboard) watch.

Next morning, before daylight, I was set to work at the head pump, which, as I was now quite sea sick I found exceeding hard. Imagine an iron pump handle set close to the Hoor (much heavier & working much harder than our kitchen pump) so you have to touch it at every stroke; of course, stooping very much. After I had pumped without any interruption about an hour, feeling almost “gone,” I ventured to ask the carpenter, who stood to pass the water on of the deck tub at the break of the fo’c’stle, if we were most through (washing decks.)

“Most through!” (Never mind the exclamations.) “Well by ________, youngster. You a’n’t tired yet, are ye? You may think yourself d____d well off if you get through before 8 o’clock. So look about yeo You bloody young _____;.”

Acting on his suggestion, I looked about me.

“Sail ho!”

“Where away?”

“Right ahead, sir!” I replied.

She proved to be a brig bound in & ran close under our stern. I was in hopes she would report us. Squally. Reefed topsails, but made sail again towards night.

26th. Clear & pleasant. Spoke a brig from Mobile fifteen days out, bound for Boston.

27th. Breeze freshened. Sail shortened. Sent down royal yard. Towards night a gale: double reefed topsails. Was now quite sick, wet through & could hardly hold myself up. Mate saw my condition & ordered me below. Thought at least I would try to get on some dry clothes, as it was cold. Opened the door of our room. That was enough. Faugh! Over she goes. Such a sickening stench, you can’t imagine it. Crawled to the fo’e’stle which was much better. Turned into Jim’s bunk (fortunately very wide one) where I [146]remained nearly two weeks—hardly eating, drinking or thinking. Dr. Taft’s remedy would I suppose have relieved, but while the gale continued it was impossible to get it & afterwards only by great exertions, as my chest was all hut inaccessible. Jim did everything he could for me, & Dr. Green attended me daily. After some time he recommended me to eat some gruel & as Jim thought it would do me much good, he got some meal of the steward, & gave it to the cook. Gruel. Oh yes. Visions of dear Aunt Maria (how often I thought of her) with the nice thick mess covered with grated nut-meg in a white bowl. Oh yes, it will be very good. My mouth fairly watered for it. Jim brought me at last a mess of stuff in a tin pot, recommending it highly. I put a spoonful in to my mouth.

“Bah! Why Jim—.”

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s sour as. . . . ”

“Oh no! That’s your mouth. It will taste better in a minute. You must get it down. It will do you a great deal of good.”

Well, I try again. “Bah! there’s something in it—salts. Why Jim.”

“No, nothing of the kind.”

“Are you sure? Oh, I know, it’s salt water!”

“No, it is not, for I gave the cook the water out of the scuttlebutt.”

Well then I concluded, it is my mouth & persevere; swallow, much against my taste, about half a pot full of it.

“Positively, Jim, I have done the best I can.”

Jim assures me I never shall get well if I don’t keep something on my stomach. But no more can I possibly manage. So Jim means to make a good supper of it himself. He tries a spoonful.

“Why, there is something wrong.”

“I knew there was, I knew there was. Try a little more; perhaps it will taste better.”

“Bah! Certainly there is something wrong.”

It turned out that the steward had given him some sour meal (from the old South American stores) which it was hoped the pigs would take off their hands. (One of the pigs died that night.) The next thing I tried was some beans Jim had saved from the soup & had baked. A few days after codfish scouse (substitute for codfish balls), but it was two weeks before I could eat the ship’s allowance.

On the 8th of May, I went regularly on duty—standing watch, working about decks by day & taking my lookout at night.

April	25th.	Blowing fresh—reefed fore topsail.
	26th.	Clear & pleasant.
	27th.	Breeze freshens. Shortened sail, small gale; double-reefed.
[147]
	28th.	Under double-reefed topsails. In the Gulf Stream.
	29th.	Under double-reefed topsails. In the Gulf Stream..
	30th.	Sunday. Clear weather. Service in the cabin.
May	1st.	Made sail. Reefs out. Evening: reefed again.
	2nd.	Double-reefed topsails. Spoke Brig “Roberts.” Heavy sea.
	3rd.	Meteor seen in West.
	4th.	Flying fish washed aboard. Porpoises seen.
	5th.	Shook out reefs. Exchanged signals with British Bark..
	7th.	Attended service. Washed & changed clothes.
	8th.	On regular duty. Bark to windward, supposed the “Pilot”.
	9th.	Beating to windward. Evening spoke brig “Pisoria” for Rio de Janeiro. Longitude 41°.
	12th.	English brig signaled. (11th signaled ship) Allowance of water. Potatoes stopped.
	28th.	Crossed the line.
		Possibly my Anjer letter miscarried. So_______
June	5th.	Met an American brig.
	10th.	Heavy squall. Close-reefed. Cooler. Cape Pigeons & Albatross.
		Cape weather commencing. Nearly in its latitude.
	23rd.	Passed in the night Tristan da Cunha. Rainy weather.
July	4th.	Procession formed before daybreak. Proceeded to fore top-sail yard. Close reefed fore and main topsails. Off cape Agulhas at noon. Longitude 41° South. Very heavy sea.
		Put on short allowance of water. Killed a pig.
	7th.	Jake Braisted fell from fore topgallant yard. The heaviest squall the Captain ever experienced. Main topsail blown away. Furled all sail & scud[ded].
	8th.	Still scudding: no sail set. Tremendous sea. Snow storm.
	15th.	Woke in the morning with a paralyzed hand. Knocked off.
	23rd.	In longitude of St. Paul’s & Amsterdam..
August	3rd.	Still reefing every day nearly.
August 4th-6th.		Saw the first tropical bird (a marlinspike). Cape pigeon seldom seen. Latitude 20° South. Morning service in the cabin first time this side the Cape.
	7th.	Off Christmas Island. On duty. “Man of War hawks”.
	8th.	Made Java Head. First land. Saw the first sail.
	9th.	Arrived at Anjer.