“(Signed) Suffren, Master.”
They were very surprised and most interested to hear we were R-34 bound for New York, and wished us every possible luck.
5.30 P. M.—Messages were received from both H. M. S. battle-cruisers Tiger and Renown, which had been previously sent by the Admiralty out into the Atlantic to assist us with weather-reports and general observation. They reported respectively as follows:
H. M. S. Tiger.—“Position 36 degrees 50 minutes north, 36 degrees 50 minutes west, 1,027 millibars, falling slowly, thick fog.”
H. M. S. Renown.—“Position 60 degrees north, 25 west, 1,027 millibars, falling slowly, cloudy, visibility four miles.”
Harris’s deductions from these reports were to the effect that there was no steep gradient, and that therefore there was no likelihood of any strong wind in that part of the Atlantic.
Set Clock Back Half-Hour
6 P. M.—Scott increases height to 2,000 feet, and at this height we find ourselves well over the clouds and with a bright-blue sky above us. The view is an enchanting one—as far as one can see a vast ocean of white fleecy clouds, ending in the most perfect cloud horizons.
Two particularly fine specimens of windy cirrus clouds, of which Pritchard promptly obtained photographs, appear on our port beam, also some “cirrus ventosus” clouds (little curly clouds like a blackcock’s tail-feathers), all of which Harris interprets as a first indication and infallible sign of a depression coming up from the south.
We hope that this depression, when it comes, may help us, provided we have crossed its path before it reaches us. If we can do this we may be helped along by the easterly wind on the northwesterly side of the depression.