Letters from the Cape | Page 3

S-'s bunk, in taking it down. The carpenter has
given me his own, and takes my broken one for himself. Board ship is a
famous place for tempers. Being easily satisfied, I get all I want, and
plenty of attention and kindness; but I cannot prevail on my cuddy boy
to refrain from violent tambourine-playing with a tin tray just at the ear
of a lady who worries him. The young soldier- officers, too, I hear
mentioned as 'them lazy gunners', and they struggle for water and tea in
the morning long after mine has come. We have now been ten days at
sea, and only three on which we could eat without the 'fiddles'
(transverse pieces of wood to prevent the dishes from falling off).
Smooth water will seem quite strange to me. I fear the poor people in
the forecastle must be very wet and miserable, as the sea is constantly
over it, not in spray, but in tons of green water.
3d Aug.--We had two days of dead calm, then one or two of a very
light, favourable breeze, and yesterday we ran 175 miles with the wind
right aft. We saw several ships, which signalled us, but we would not

answer, as we had our spars down for repairs and looked like a wreck,
and fancied it would be a pity to frighten you all with a report to that
effect.
Last night we got all right, and spread out immense studding-sails. We
are now bowling along, wind right aft, dipping our studding-sail booms
into the water at every roll. The weather is still surprisingly cold,
though very fine, and I have to come below quite early, out of the
evening air. The sun sets before seven o'clock. I still cough a good deal,
and the bad food and drink are trying. But the life is very enjoyable;
and as I have the run of the charts, and ask all sorts of questions, I get
plenty of amusement. S- is an excellent traveller; no grumbling, and no
gossiping, which, on board a ship like ours, is a great merit, for there is
ad nauseam of both.
Mr.--is writing a charade, in which I have agreed to take a part, to
prevent squabbling. He wanted to start a daily paper, but the captain
wisely forbade it, as it must have led to personalities and quarrels, and
suggested a play instead. My little white Maltese goat is very well, and
gives plenty of milk, which is a great resource, as the tea and coffee are
abominable. Avery brings it me at six, in a tin pannikin, and again in
the evening. The chief officer is well-bred and agreeable, and, indeed,
all the young gentlemen are wonderfully good specimens of their class.
The captain is a burly foremast man in manner, with a heart of wax and
every feeling of a gentleman. He was in California, 'HIDE
DROGHING' with Dana, and he says every line of Two Years before
the Mast is true. He went through it all himself. He says that I am a
great help to him, as a pattern of discipline and punctuality. People are
much inclined to miss meals, and then want things at odd hours, and
make the work quite impossible to the cook and servants. Of course, I
get all I want in double-quick time, as I try to save my man trouble; and
the carpenter leaves my scuttle open when no one else gets it, quite
willing to get up in his time of sleep to close it, if it comes on to blow.
A maid is really a superfluity on board ship, as the men rather like
being 'aux petits soins'. The boatswain came the other day to say that he
had a nice carpet and a good pillow; did I want anything of the sort? He
would be proud that I should use anything of his. You would delight in

Avery, my cuddy man, who is as quick as 'greased lightning', and full
of fun. His misery is my want of appetite, and his efforts to cram me
are very droll. The days seem to slip away, one can't tell how. I sit on
deck from breakfast at nine, till dinner at four, and then again till it gets
cold, and then to bed. We are now about 100 miles from Madeira, and
shall have to run inside it, as we were thrown so far out of our course
by the foul weather.
9th Aug.--Becalmed, under a vertical sun. Lat. 17 degrees, or
thereabouts. We saw Madeira at a distance like a cloud; since then, we
had about four days trade wind, and then failing or contrary breezes.
We have sailed so near the African shore that we get little good out