WHERE CURRENTS RIP 43 



as the presence of those Antarctic creatures, pen- 

 guins, hving and thriving under what should be the 

 intense heat of the equatorial sun. 



Just as in the Atlantic we had started out with 

 the dominant idea of Sargasso Sea in mind, so now 

 in der Stiller Oceari it was the Humboldt Current 

 that we looked forward to studying. Our mem- 

 ory of two years ago on the Noma was still vivid,^ 

 when the turn of a promontory meant sometimes 

 such a drop in temperature that, even while cross- 

 ing the Equator, we hastily donned sweaters. A 

 few miles made all the difference in the water, 

 whether it flowed about our bodies comfortably 

 warm as the tropical sun could make it, or whether 

 it met us in our dive with the shock of a New 

 England plunge. 



The first three days in the Pacific we could 

 think of only one thing — the glorious smoothness 

 of the ocean. For weeks we had wallowed almost 

 bulwark deep in the Sargasso, with never respite 

 for efficient dredging or trawling, or a chance to 

 walk steadily, sit relaxedly, or think quietly. Here 

 the sun rose day after day on a mirror, or on gentle 

 ripples, and the Arcturus pushed quietly and 

 firmly through the ultramarine, fretted here and 

 there with the ripple chains forged by flyingfish 

 tails, or the great splashed stars where a tunny 

 or dolphin leaped. Our night hauls were rich, 

 full of new and exciting treasures, taxing our ut- 

 most time and energy to watch, describe and pre- 

 serve. 



'Galapagos: World's End, p. 163. 



