There may have been some element of danger in passing through the Magellan Strait, but otherwise the cruise was a summer jaunt over smooth seas and for the greater part of the time under blue skies. There were four days of intermittent fog after entering the Pacific and there were one morning and two hours one afternoon of fog on the Atlantic a day or two before the Strait of Magellan was reached. The passage through the strait, the last thirty miles of which was sailed through quite a thick fog, was accomplished, according to commanding officers generally, with greater ease and less real danger than entering New York harbor and sailing up the Hudson River to the usual anchorage there.

The trip was one of surprises. The coolness of the people of Trinidad was as great a surprise as was the exuberant welcome of Brazil and other foreign countries. Rio's welcome was the most demonstrative, Callao's probably the most heartfelt, that of Punta Arenas the most unexpected. There were two highly spectacular events on the cruise—the welcome at sea on the morning of January 29 by a squadron of the Argentine navy off the mouth of the River Plate and the entrance to and exit from Valparaiso harbor on the afternoon of February 14. The American and Argentine fleets exchanged national salutes on the high seas. Many naval officers believe this was the first time such an act of courtesy ever took place.

No naval officer ever remembered such a ceremonious call as was made at Valparaiso. With the Chilean ensign at the fore the ships made a great curve in the shape of a crescent in the harbor. On entering the port the ships fired a national salute of twenty-one guns in unison. On leaving the harbor each ship fired twenty-one guns as a personal salute to Chile's President, who had come out to review the parade. The day was glorious, the hills were crowded with people, the shipping in the harbor was all dressed. Every naval officer agreed that it was the most spectacular naval parade he ever saw. All were glad that this happened in a port of Chile, a country which not long ago was not over-friendly to us. The messages exchanged between Admiral Evans and the President and other officials of Chile were extremely cordial, and there can be no doubt that the visit to Valparaiso was highly beneficial in fully restoring good feeling between the countries.

All naval officers are of opinion that professionally the cruise was of great benefit both to the men and the ships. It was absolutely true, as Admiral Evans telegraphed the Navy Department from Magdalena Bay, that the vessels were in better condition when they arrived there than when they left Hampton Roads. They had been shaken down, as the expression goes. They had become a coherent force. A large quantity of work had been done on each of them such as is usually done in navy yards. The longer the cruise continued the more the truth of the naval saying that "the place for ships to be is at sea, not in navy yards" seemed confirmed.

A large part of the routine work on the ships was taken up with drills preliminary to target practice. The purpose of a warship is to shoot; it is a truism to say it. Hence the large amount of time given to learning how to shoot accurately and quickly was precisely what was needed on the fleet. The value of all this work will become known when the Navy Department decides to make public such of the records as may be deemed desirable regarding the work at Magdalena Bay. One may not speak freely of that work, but it is not beyond the limits of propriety to say that the American people will not be ashamed of the men behind the guns when even partial results are made known.

The voyage revealed the cruising qualities of the ships and many lessons were learned from incidental mishaps—as many lessons were learned at Magdalena Bay from similar causes as to the way to improve target shooting.

On the Atlantic coast there were frequent minor breakdowns, boilers, condensers, steering engines and the like needing repairs. All these incidents showed not only how and where mishaps were likely to occur, but showed that it was possible to make repairs in such cases at sea. Although several ships dropped out of the column at various times only once was the fleet slowed down, and then only for a few hours while repairs were going on. The ships might fly "breakdown" pennants but they kept up right along. On the Pacific coast there were very few mishaps, and these chiefly relating to steering gear. One of the ships had a cylinder accident coming up to Santa Barbara roadstead, but the ship kept right along in the column.

There is little doubt that if pleasure stops had not been made it would have been comparatively easy to take the fleet right on around the world without docking or sending them to a navy yard for repairs. Many officers in the fleet regret that such a course was not adopted, once it was decided to have the fleet encircle the globe, so as to make a record such as the naval world has scarcely dreamed of.

The trip has also been valuable in determining not only the cruising capability of the ships but also the best cruising speed. Although it was proved that the ships could go faster than ten knots it was found that from ten to eleven knots was the most trustworthy speed to be maintained. You could depend upon ships at that speed. Valuable data as to coal consumption and wear and tear on machinery have also been secured. From the engineering standpoint Uncle Sam has learned now exactly what his ships can do in sustained steaming under favorable conditions of weather.

By way of contrast between the fine cruising record of the battleship fleet and that of the Russian fleet on its way to Japan, one should read the diary of one of the Russian naval officers who sailed under Rojestvensky, which was published about a year ago. It had this to say about the Russian ships: