A lantern was held for me by the chief officer while I took the sketch, to enable me, as he said, to see the stars.
THE SOUTHERN CROSS.
Sketched on the spot by فاني پارکس
20th.—The thermometer 81° in my cabin, and 84° in the stern cabin above. The new moon was most beautiful. Venus looked of surprising size, and threw her light across the sea like a moon light.
21st.—The trade wind blows calmly and sweetly; we only make about 100 knots a day, and the heat is oppressive; but the starry nights are brilliant, and the air at that time is most luxuriously cool, fresh, and soft.
23rd.—Thermometer 82°—A calm—the boats were lowered, and a purse made for a boat race for the native crew, which afforded amusement—the heat at night was intense.
25th.—Calm again—how much patience is requisite during a voyage at sea!
29th.—A dead calm—the heat excessive, quite overpowering, far beyond the heat of India. Heavy rain, a waterspout seen—a little breeze in the evening—re-crossed the line during the night.
March 1st.—The heat renders all exertion, mental or bodily, almost impossible. A heavy squall at noon, with powerful thunder and lightning followed by a calm. No sooner are we refreshed by a breeze, than torrents of rain fall and the calm returns. When shall we pick up the monsoon?—we creep along at a weary pace.