Chapter Fifty Five.
“Down Helm.”
“Land, ho!”
The cry is from a man stationed on the fore-topmast cross-trees of the Condor. Since sunrise he has been aloft—on the lookout for land. It is now near noon, and he has sighted it.
Captain Lantanas is not quite certain of what land it is. He knows it is the Veraguan coast, but does not recognise the particular place.
Noon soon after coming on, with an unclouded sky, enables him to catch the sun in its meridian altitude, and so make him sure of a good sight. It gives for latitude 7 degrees 20 minutes North, while his chronometer furnishes him with the longitude 82 degrees 12 minutes West.
As the Chilian is a skilled observer, and has confidence in the observations he has made, the land in sight should be the island of Coiba; or an island that covers it, called Hicaron. Both are off the coast of Veragua, westward from Panama Bay, and about a hundred miles from its mouth; into which the Condor is seeking to make entrance.
Having ciphered out his reckoning, the skipper enters it on his log:
“Latitude 7 degrees 20 minutes North, Longitude 82 degrees 12 minutes West Wind West-South-West. Light breeze.”