Sunday, 7th.—Wind dead a-head; a rather singular circumstance in the trades. The men busy making coffee of roasted barley. Eat the pig, the last killed yesterday. The captain full of dark, savage thoughts. It is now a fortnight since a sail was seen, and as all seems wrong, we droop and hang our heads like bulrushes.
9th.—Lat. 21º, therm. 78°. Met a huge shark, two dolphins, and a grampus. All hands now go nearly naked, and quite stockingless and shoeless, and frequently jump into the brine. A passenger, being once seized with the cramp, soon found himself drowning; on which a line was thrown out, and he seized it with his teeth until it was tied round his arm, and he could be so hauled up.
11th.—S. W. wind blowing a gale all day, a rather remarkable thing in this latitude, being within the tropic line, where a regular trade-wind is expected from either the N. E. or S. E. All hands now brought to short allowance; one biscuit only, in 24 hours, for the crew; and one and a half for each man in the cabin. When I, as now, omit the latitude, it is because we cannot get an observation, and are driven backwards, and tossed to and fro. Our hopes are very low. This evening, immediately after the sun sunk, the full moon rose from a huge pillowy cloud, and shone with an angry redness and largeness, casting an awful {16} splendour on the dark sky and mountainous sea. Still a gale, in direct opposition to the generally received theory of the trades, which should blow as above mentioned, says Captain Wise; but at the command of God, how his works laugh at the theories of man!
12th.—Lat. 22° 15[']. A beautiful fat flying-fish flew on board this morning, and furnished us with a delicious breakfast.
Sunday, 14th.—In lat. 22°, long. 45°. Wind due west,
