Monday, November 13th.—We had a regular turn-out and re-arrangement of our stores to-day, and discovered that the waste and mismanagement have been greater even than we at first supposed. Fortunately, we found some spare tins of provisions stowed away under the nursery floor and forgotten, and which will now come in very opportunely. But I fear that, even as it is, we may be seriously inconvenienced before getting to the end of our voyage. Of the six sheep, sixty chickens, thirty ducks, and four dozen pigeons, brought on board alive at Valparaiso, we have comparatively few left, and not a great deal to give those few to eat; so we must depend mainly on our potted meats and vegetables, which happen to be excellent. We often wonder how the earlier navigators got on, when there were no such things as tinned provisions, and when the facilities for carrying water were of the poorest description, while they were often months and months at sea, without an opportunity of replenishing their stores, and with no steam-power to fall back upon in case they were becalmed. Still more wonderful, in my opinion, is the successful manner in which the Spaniards managed to convey their hordes in tiny vessels, together with a sufficient quantity of forage for them, to the New World, where, according to all accounts, they generally arrived in good condition, fit to go to work or to war immediately.
The wind increased in the evening and blew dead aft. In the middle of the night the mizen-halyards broke, and blocks and all came down with a tremendous crash, which caused both Tom and me to rush up on deck. About an hour and a half's work put everything straight again, however, though it looked a sad mess at first. We had been remarking at dinner how lucky we had been, with all this rolling about in calms and running before the wind, not to have had anything carried away or any of the ropes chafed. Personally, I think the accident is not to be regretted, for now all the fore and aft canvas is stowed, and we are running under square canvas alone, which is much steadier work, though we still roll considerably.
Tuesday, November 14th.—Fine, with a strong fair wind. I have been laid up for a few days with a touch of my old enemy, Syrian fever, but am gradually recovering, and enjoy very much lying on deck and reading.
Our victualling arrangements have now been satisfactorily settled, and everybody has been put on an allowance of water, our supply of which will last the whole ship's company of forty persons for five weeks, leaving one tank still in reserve in case of accidents. As we expect to reach our destination in about three weeks from the present time, we have therefore, I hope, an ample supply for all our requirements.
Wednesday, November 15th.—Pleasant as we have found life at sea in the South Pacific hitherto, it is, I fear, monotonous to read about, and I dare say you will find it difficult to realise how quickly the days fly past, and how sorry we are when each one comes to an end. I am afraid they are among those things which do not repeat themselves. At any rate, they afford a golden opportunity for reading, such as we are not likely to have again often, if ever, in our busy lives; and Tom and I are endeavouring to make the best use of it by getting through as many of the seven hundred volumes we brought with us as possible. The weather favours us in our endeavours to be industrious; for, while it is sufficiently warm to indispose one for a very severe course of study, it has never been so hot as to compel us to lie down and do nothing but gasp for breath—which is what we were warned to expect. There is indeed one slight drawback to the perfect enjoyment of our present state of existence, and that is the incessant motion of the vessel. When she rolls as quickly as she has done to-day, it is difficult to settle down steadily to any occupation, and at last one cannot help feeling aggravated at the persistent manner in which everything, including one's self, refuses to be still for a single instant.
Thursday, November 16th.—To-day it is really warm—not to say hot—with a bright cloudless sky, which renders an awning acceptable. We saw some 'bo's'n' birds for the first time, and more shoals of flying-fish. I wish a few of the latter would come on board; they would be an agreeable addition to our breakfast-table.
The rolling still continues, the wind being dead aft, and nothing but our square canvas being set. The effect is rather wearisome, and one longs to be able to say 'Catch hold of her head and keep her still, if only for five minutes' peace and quietness!' Cooking is difficult, and even eating is a hazardous occupation; and at our evening game of cards we have to pocket our counters and markers and hold on as best we can.
Friday, November 17th.—At 8 a.m. the course was altered, our fore-and-aft canvas was set again, and we were once more gliding along swiftly and smoothly through the water, to the great relief of every one on board. The day was lovely, and though it was warm, a pleasant breeze throughout the ship prevented our feeling uncomfortably hot.
Saturday, November 18th.—The days are so much alike that it is difficult to find anything special to say about them. They fly so quickly that I was surprised to be reminded by the usual singing-practice this afternoon that another week had gone by.
The two green paroquets, 'Coco' and 'Meta,' given to me by Mr. Fisher at Rosario, have turned out dear little pets, with the most amusing ways. They are terrible thieves, especially of sugar, pencils, pens, and paper, and being nearly always at liberty, they follow me about just like dogs, and coax and caress me with great affection. They do not care much for any one else, though they are civil to all and good-tempered even to the children, who, I am afraid, rather bore them with their attempts at petting. The other foreign birds, of which I have a large collection, are doing well, and I begin to hope I shall get them home safely after all. We had at one time about twenty parrots, belonging to the men, on board, all running about on deck forward, with their wings clipped, but about half of them have been lost overboard. The dogs keep their health and spirits wonderfully. Félise is quite young again, and she and Lulu have great games, tearing up and down and around the decks as hard as they can go.