After passing the Island of Lucepara we left the Sea of Java, and were for a short time in the Straits of Sunda.
The Governor-General Meyer is very slow, only going between six and eight knots an hour. The foredeck is curtained off, leaving an archway in the canvas through which we get a picturesque glimpse of the Malay and Chinese passengers, the latter always alternately sleeping and eating rice with their chopsticks. The Dutch officers are our only companions, and two of them speak a little English. Most amusing instructions are hung up in the saloon as to the wearing of the sarong and kabaya. A literal translation from the Dutch says: "It is allowed to the ladies to wear them at breakfast and the 'reis tag,' but after 5.30 p.m. it is requested that they will be dressed till after dinner." Certainly the Dutch hours of seven o'clock dinner on board ship is a great improvement on the six o'clock English one. I slept the afternoon away, and a Christmas cake and some mummying among the Dutch sailors gave us a final reminder of Christmas evening.
Friday, December 26th.—We are coasting along by Sumatra, which looks a very flat island. Sumatra is celebrated for its tobacco plantations, which supply the outer leaf for Havana cigars, being of very fine quality, and burning white and clean. The tobacco is exported to Amsterdam, which is one of the greatest emporiums in the world for this article. We enter the Straits of Banka, which are formed by the island of this name (belonging to the Dutch) and the Island of Sumatra. The water here is a curious colour, olive-green, growing more muddy as we approach the entrance of the Talemjan River, on the Sumatra coast. We reached Muntok, the chief town of Banka, at night, where we had some cargo to put off. Muntok is the centre of a great tin track, worked by Chinese, who are brought there under contract.
Saturday, December 27th.—Last night we were stationary by the lighthouse for three hours, the Governor-General being unable to make headway with full steam against the tremendously strong current running there, and this morning we are catching a breeze from the north-east monsoon which prevails at this time of the year in the China Sea, and are being further delayed. In the Indian Ocean and China Sea the monsoon or strong trade wind usually blows from the south-west from April to October, and from the north-east from October to April. Typhoons and cyclones, or circular hurricanes are frequent during the former in the Indian Ocean, and during the latter in the China Sea.
We crossed the equator this afternoon. The novelty of this feat has passed away after the first performance of it in the Pacific. How strange it must be living in a town like Pontianak, in West Borneo, where the equator passes through the main street! "The house on the line" must be quite a show place to the inhabitants. The heat on the afternoon was very great.
Sunday, December 28th.—We were at anchor before Rhio (or Riow in Dutch spelling), a settlement among the palm-trees. Rhio is a port of some importance, the Dutch having made it a free port, contrary to their principles, when Singapore was thrown open by the English, hoping thus to attract some part of the commerce of the Eastern Archipelago.
We are passing through the pretty Straits of Rhio, with its wooded banks and straggling cocoa-palms. A terribly dangerous reef is marked by a curl of foam. The date of our arrival in Singapore has been growing steadily later, but we shall really be there this afternoon, landing on the Sunday as usual.