It is interesting to note that as yet we have received no notice of this depression coming up from the south in any weather-reports.
6.40 P. M.—Put back clock one-half an hour to correct Greenwich mean time. Time now 6.10 P. M. Position: Latitude 53 degrees 50 minutes north; longitude 20 degrees west.
We have covered 610 sea-miles, measured in a direct line, in 17 hours, at an average speed of 36 knots, or 40 miles per hour. Depth of Atlantic at this point, 1,500 fathoms. At this rate, if all goes well and if that depression from the south doesn’t interfere, we should see St. John’s—if visible and not covered in fog as it usually is—about midnight to-morrow, July 3.
6.55 P. M.—Wireless message from Air Ministry via Clifden states:
“Conditions unchanged in British Isles. Anti-cyclone persistent in Eastern Atlantic—a new depression entering Atlantic from south.”
This confirms Harris’s forecast and is an admirable proof of the value of cloud forecasting.
Sea and Sky Invisible
7 P. M.—The clouds have risen to our height and we are now driving away through them with no signs of the sky above or the sea underneath. Scott reckons the wind is northeast by east and helping us slightly. Airship now very heavy owing to change in temperature and 12 degrees down by the stern. Running on all five engines at 1,600 revolutions, height 3,000 feet.
8 P. M.—We are just on top of the clouds, alternately in the sun and then plunging through thick banks of clouds. The sun is very low down on the western horizon and we are steering straight for it, making Pritchard at the elevators curse himself for not having brought tinted glasses. Ship now on an even keel.
8.30 P. M.—Scott decided to go down underneath the clouds and increases speed on all engines to 1,800 revolutions to do so. Dark, cold, and wet in the clouds, and we shut all windows.