5th.—Lat. N. 15° 12′, long. W. 21° 5′.—Some beautiful flying fish were caught in the shrouds; the captain ruthlessly ordered them to be dressed for breakfast, the flavour was delicate and delicious. Divine service was performed for the first time. A shark seen, and the lunar bow was in the same position as the night before.
6th.—Lat. 12° 43′, long. 21° 8′.—The lunar bow visible at the same hour, brighter and of greater length; it has the appearance of an enormously lengthy comet. The trade-wind good.
7th.—Lat. 11° 8′, long. 20° 40′.—Light winds; the comet or lunar bow, whichever it may be, visible as usual.
8th.—Lat. 9° 21′, long. 20° 55′.—The comet-like appearance very decided, and with a telescope the star at the head was visible. The comet appeared at twenty minutes past six P.M.—disappeared at eight P.M. The light of the tail was of a brilliant silver colour, and it was very much expanded at the end. The crescent moon still brilliant, the sea calm.
9th.—Lat. 7° 46′, long. 20° 53′.—The comet is very distinct, and of enormous size; it appeared in full splendour this evening, was visible a little later than it was yesterday evening, and disappeared about the same time as before. It was a beautiful night, the moon, in her third quarter, was brilliant; Orion shone forth in the deep sky, Aldebaran, the Pleiades, and α Arietis were in full splendour, and Canopus was beautiful.
10th.—This morning two of the young men amused themselves with swimming by the ship’s side during the calm into which we have gradually fallen. The captain remonstrated with them; and a shark was caught, which will prevent such folly in future. Thermometer 85°—very warm. The comet appeared about six, and set about eight P.M.—not so bright this evening as usual. A waveless ocean.
11th.—A deep calm—the sunrise very beautiful, foreboding a very warm day. In the evening the comet, although visible, was obscured by clouds—a squall, and fresh gale at night.
12th.—Lat. 4° 28′, long. 20° 10′.—At break of day this morning, on looking out of the port, the glory of the scene spread before me rendered me speechless with admiration. Who can describe the grandeur, the glorious colours of that sunrise? The burning crimson clouds deeply streaked with the darkest and fullest neutral tints, spread above deep fantastically shaped clouds that rose like mountains from the sea. Above the burnished crimson was a bright gleam of greenish blue sky, and above that was a profusion of clouds, in tones of still deeper and more burning crimson, mixed with the darkest neutral ones, spread upon a sky of the most vivid and deep ultramarine colour—the purple waves rose and swelled glowing with the richest rose tints. On the left, also, deep neutral clouds stood up from the sea like a dark mountain, with streams of crimson light thrown upon its head, in front of which the softest, fullest, and most brilliantly white clouds contrasted with the dark blue sea, on which they appeared to rest. The man who dedicated the dim religious gloom and the crimson-tinted lights of a cathedral to the service of the Almighty must have taken the idea from the feelings inspired by such a scene, where a gorgeous profusion of solemn tints bows the soul to Him who hath “spread His glory in the heavens.”
This sunrise has repaid the toil and trouble of the voyage: the sunsets are magnificent; but who shall describe the glory of the rising sun, the depth of shade, the burning light;—a scene that can never be forgotten, a glory that can never pass from the memory, even to the last. Heavy rain in the evening, the clouds numerous, the comet invisible.