We first saw that splendid bird, the albatross, when about 28° S. latitude, and when more than 1,000 miles from land. They appeared in flocks, and would follow the ship for many days. Their flight is exceedingly graceful, and very rapid, the movement of their wings being scarcely perceptible. The capture of the albatross is a favourite amusement upon sailing ships—it is scarcely possible to catch them from a steamer—the plan being to let out a line over the stern, having a strong hook baited with a piece of meat or with red cloth. We were successful in catching a magnificent fellow, which measured 15ft. across its wings. A drop of prussic acid applied to the eye of the poor creature causes instant death. The breast forms an excellent muff, and the wing bones make good stems for pipes of the “churchwarden” pattern. One of our passengers was a fiery Irishman, who was travelling with his newly-married wife. One day, while at dinner, the ship gave a heavy lurch, and the lady fell back, breaking her chair; upon which her husband, in a great rage, seized the chair, and, rushing on deck, threw it overboard, when lo! a flock of albatrosses crowded around it, and one fine fellow “took” the chair, and appeared to be addressing his friends!
One of the most beautiful creatures to be seen in tropical waters is the “Portuguese Man-of-War.” It is often confounded with the Nautilus, but is a quite distinct organism; it has a crest which can be raised or lowered at will, and its body consists of a long, horizontal, oblong bladder filled with air. They vary in size from 12in. diameter to small discs no larger than a shilling, and present a beautiful appearance as the ship passes by a fleet of them.
We caught some dolphins, and an examination of their stomachs proved they were not unjustly suspected of eating the pretty little flying-fish. The pilot-fish, also found in these latitudes, is coloured purple and silver, with five black bands across it, and is about five inches in length. We also saw specimens of the white shark, porpoises, grampuses, Mother Carey’s chickens, booby-birds, etc.
One of the most interesting sights at sea is the passing of ships. I shall never forget our meeting a ship in full sail one glorious moonlight night. It came close to us, the moon shining full on its sails, and being like our vessel, a sailing ship, not a sound was heard until our captain hailed the stranger, and asked him to report us “all well.”
One would think there was not much danger of collision at sea, in broad daylight and in the open ocean, but on one occasion, while in a sailing ship, another came so close to us that it was only by the most dexterous management on the part of our captain that a collision was avoided.
The monotony of a long voyage is occasionally relieved by the opportunity of sending letters in homeward-bound ships, and when we had been out about a month we were told to have our letters ready, for a ship was in sight. Everyone was immediately deeply engaged in writing, and presently the stranger came sufficiently near for us to communicate with her. Our signal was run up, “Will you take letters for us?” to which she quickly replied, “With pleasure,” and then a boat left us to take our letter-bag on board the “homeward-bound.” This vessel was from Moulmein with teak, and she had been one hundred days out. Those on board had heard nothing of the Cabul massacre, but they brought us news of the capture of Cetewayo, having got it from a passing ship. In return for this intelligence we told them of the death of the Prince Imperial, which they had not heard of, although it happened before the capture of Cetewayo.
Some of our passengers went on board the passing ship, and two of them scrambled up the rigging, and presently we saw a sailor follow them and tie their legs to the rigging, releasing them as soon as they had paid their footing. In the evening the two ships parted company, saluting each other with rockets of various colours.
While our letters were being taken on board the homeward-bound ship, we saw a huge shark follow the boat until it reached the vessel, and on hearing a shout, “a big fish!” we ran to the ship’s side and saw a whale not more than a hundred feet off. The monster gave a loud snort, spouted water, and then made off. I wonder if it had any idea what we were?
There was a boxing match going forward one day, when the captain invited the parson to put the gloves on. “Oh, no,” he said, “I am a man of peace now.” He told me he objected to war as much as anyone could do. “But,” I said, “your Church does not.” He replied that there was nothing in the teaching of the Church which advocated war; so I asked him, if that was the case, what that part of the prayer-book meant where a hope is expressed that the Queen may “vanquish and overcome all her enemies.”