Just as I had written so far, Captain M. invited us to go on deck to look at some birds that were hovering about the vessel. One of them was a phaeton, or tropic-bird, of which there are many varieties;—that which I have seen to-day had a red bill, and very long white wings, tipped with black; the legs and feet bright red: the tail consists of only two straight feathers, almost two feet long, which they drop every year. These are worn in the caps of the Sandwich islanders, and in the mourning dress of the Otaheitans.
25th.—Last night we had the good fortune to procure one of the luminous creatures that make the sea so brilliant. After many fruitless attempts, a bucket of water brought up a fine specimen, about two inches long, and as thick as my finger; somewhat cylindrical and transparent. On its surface are numerous little tubercles; and as there seems to be a cavity all through the body, it might at first be thought one individual, but the captain showed me that it is an assemblage of animals united together. He examined the specimen very minutely, and then put it into a phial of spirits of wine to preserve it. He seems to be very fond of natural history, and told us that the sparkling appearance of the sea, which may be observed in all parts of the world, is produced by animalculæ, or little creatures that can only be discerned by a microscope.
26th.—We have seen more birds to-day. Some of them were petrels; they remained a long time skimming about the ship, and though they greedily devoured any fat substance thrown into the sea, all our endeavours to procure one failed. One species was the stormy petrel, which they say is seen all over the Atlantic Ocean. Some chopped straw being thrown overboard, we saw them stand on it with expanded wings; but these birds never settle or swim in the water. They skim along with incredible rapidity in the hollows of the waves. It is to the stormy petrel that these two lines allude—
She swept the seas; and as she skimm’d along,
Her flying feet unbathed on billows hung.
28th.—The captain was so good as to explain to us this morning the manner in which the rigging supports the masts, and how the yards are raised, and lowered, and braced in different positions, in order to adapt them to the force and direction of the wind. He also walked round the gun-deck with us, and showed us the cannon and all their implements, which are kept in such a constant state of readiness, that in five minutes, night or day, the whole battery would be ready for fighting. But nothing pleased me so much as the lower-deck, where he took us while the crew were all at dinner on nice pea-soup and salt pork, and all sitting comfortably on their chests placed round the tables; of which there is a complete row along the foremost half of the deck. The other end of this deck contains the officers’ cabins, which, although not above six or seven feet either in length, or breadth, or height, are very nicely fitted up with a chest of drawers, a little book-case, a chair, and even a sofa; besides a cot, or bed, which is only hung up at night.
30th.—We have seen the man-of-war bird to-day. It has a membranaceous bag like that of a pelican, bright red—the plumage is brown. It is always on the wing, very seldom having been observed to settle on the masts of ships. Other sea-birds, when tired of flying, generally rest themselves on the surface of the water; but the very great length of the wing makes it impossible for this bird to do so, as it could not easily rise again.
When we were becalmed this morning, we had an opportunity of seeing a number of birds of various kinds, the albatross, among others;—and one of the dark-coloured variety was caught with a small fishing-line; it measured seven feet between the tips of the wings. Its face is very remarkable, for its flat head and crooked bill give it some resemblance to the owl, which is increased by its large prominent eyes. As we advance to the north this species will become scarce, Captain M. says, but we shall have the great albatross, which is by far the largest of all aquatic birds.
July 2d.—I have been delighted with the flying fish, of which we have seen numbers for some days. They ascend sparkling out of the waves, sometimes singly, sometimes in great numbers, when pursued; but in avoiding one danger they are exposed to another, for it is said that the man-of-war bird has been seen to pounce upon them while in the air. Their flight is generally in a direction contrary to the wind, and seldom exceeds a hundred yards; nor do they rise high, though Captain M. says he has seen them fall on his deck. He showed me their enemies too, the bonito and the albacore, which, he says, are both of the mackarel tribe. They swim with great rapidity, and are so strong, that they sometimes, in the midst of the most rapid course, leap five or six feet perpendicularly above the surface, and plunge again head foremost into the waves.
4th.—I have been looking at Mother Carey’s chickens, the least of all the petrels, I believe; and the fulmar, which is certainly the most beautiful, for its plumage is of a snowy whiteness, and, as Mrs. P—— observed, seems unsoiled by the water, though constantly diving.
7th.—It seems a very long time since we have seen land, but I am not yet tired of a sea life. Much as I love all the works of nature, I never felt such admiration for any thing as I do for the sea. Its extent, its depth, and the grand and almost terrific sound of its waves—it fills one’s mind with awe; and it is wonderful to think that, powerful and uncontrollable as it appears, man should be able to pass over it to the most distant regions, and to guide his ships through its stormy and turbulent waves.