ii6 TO DAVY Jones's locker 



This was Dive Number Seven for the bathysphere, and 

 we cUmbed in at 9:50 a.m. We had made a number of 

 improvements since the first dive. The inside had been 

 painted black so as not to interfere with observations. 

 Barton had come to look upon his very greasy leather 

 skull-cap as a mascot, so when he could not find it, the 

 central bolt was unscrewed, and the Ready searched 

 thoroughly for five minutes, after which he found he 

 was sitting on it. We now had a special place for fans and 

 monkey wrenches and I arranged a shelf for my notebook 

 and pencil, specimens of scarlet crustaceans, and a book 

 with type and plates to test the pseudo-brilliance of the 

 light. The cushion was in its right place, and we had built 

 a shield to shut out the lateral glare from the searchlight. 

 We had also learned to cover the chevaitx-de-frise of bolts 

 at the entrance with sacking, and so to soften the eflfects 

 of our frantic wrigglings in and out. The shackle of the 

 cable had been shifted from the central to the posterior 

 hole so that the sphere tipped slightly forward and down- 

 ward when swinging free. This gave me a better outlook 

 in a slightly oblique, downward direction. The hose fas- 

 tening on the sphere had been tightened so that there was 

 less chance of our being smothered in its entering, en- 

 twining coils, which would have been an undramatic, 

 Laocoon ending. 



This time we took a chance on everything being in good 

 order, and did not make an experimental submergence. 

 We fastened the Tropical Research house flag of the New 



