Liverpool to Melbourne, 1855.
Wednesday, 5th September.—About 3 o’clock this afternoon, amid the booming of cannon, the sad and solemn strains of the band and the cheers of the passengers, our gallant ship was taken in tow by the tug Rattler. The commencement of our voyage is marked with a fair wind, so that the captain is determined to proceed without the aid of a tug. Accordingly at 7.30 the pilot left us and we bade him a cheering farewell. In the evening several songs were sung for “Each sail was set, and each heart was gay.”
Thursday, 6th September.—At 2 a.m. we passed Holyhead, going from 7 to 7½ knots, and Bardsey at 9. At 3 p.m. we were abreast of Tuskar. The ship is gliding along under an astonishing cloud of canvas, with stunsails alow and aloft. In the evening the band played several tunes; many of the passengers ventured on a polka and other dances with spirit.
Friday, 7th September.—The light breeze of past two days died away at 4 this morning, leaving us becalmed. Happily the weather is delightful with clear sky and brilliant sun. The sea has the appearance of an immense sheet of glass. All parties are on deck so that the promenades are inconveniently crowded.
Tuesday, 11th September.—About 11 a.m. we passed on the port side close to a Neapolitan brig, which put us in mind of Noah’s Ark. She was going ahead about one knot and drifting two, with a fine breeze that would have enabled a ship of any other nation to carry all sail, while these sea-lubbers rolled along under double-reefed topsails and furled mainsail. Lat. 44° 9′ N., long. 12° 5′ W. Distance run 205 miles.
Thursday, 13th September.—About 7 this morning we exchanged colours with a ship steering our course. At 12 she was but a white speck on the horizon and at 3 she was lost to sight.
Thursday, 20th September.—About 8 a.m. we sighted a vessel right ahead about 10 miles distant and at 2 p.m. we were almost within speaking distance. She proved to be the barque Araquita, from England bound to Rio Janeiro. At 6, such was our speed, she was lost to sight. At 3.30 entered Tropic of Cancer.
Monday, 24th September.—Lat. 14° 10′ N., long. 28° 14′ W. Distance 78 miles. Early this afternoon we sighted the schooner Gleam, from Accra, on the Guinea Coast, bound to London. At 5 p.m. a boat was lowered and in command of Mr. Bartlett, the chief officer, accompanied by a few of the saloon passengers, proceeded to the Gleam, conveying a large number of letters and Lightning Gazettes for home. A small present of fresh meat and potatoes was also put on board and gratefully received. On the return of the boat we learned she was 47 days out and crossed the line 19 days ago.
Tuesday, 25th September.—Lat. 12° 14′ N., long. 28° 1′ W. Distance 117 miles. In the forenoon we exchanged colours with the brig Favorite, from Buenos Ayres to Liverpool. Shortly afterwards we passed a Danish brigantine and a Hamburg vessel.
Friday, 28th September.—Lat. 9° 53′ N., long. 28° 5′ W. Distance 33 miles. At 6 a.m. a boat visited us from the Evening Star, of Portland, from the Chincha Islands bound to Cork for orders.