LONDON, AND VOYAGE TO SINGAPORE 309 



compass, and then settled nearly due east, where it pertina- 

 ciously continued for twelve days, keeping us tacking about, 

 and making less than forty miles a day against it. Three days 

 ago we had another gale, more severe than the former one — 

 a regular equinoctial which lasted two entire days and nights, 

 and split one of the newest and strongest sails on the ship. 

 The rolling and plunging were fearful, the bowsprit going 

 completely under water, and the ship being very heavily laden 

 with mahogany, fustic, and other heavy woods from Cuba, 

 strained and creaked tremendously, and leaked to that extent 

 that the pumps were obliged to be kept constantly going, and 

 their continued click-clack, click-clack all through the night 

 was a most disagreeable and nervous sound. One day no 

 fire could be made owing to the sea breaking continually into 

 the galley, so we had to eat a biscuit for our dinner; and not 

 a moment's rest was to be had, as we were obliged to be con- 

 stantly holding on, whether standing, sitting, or lying, to pre- 

 vent being pitched about by the violent plunges and lurches of 

 the vessel. The gale, however, has now happily passed, and 

 we have a fine breeze from the north-west, which is taking us 

 along six or seven knots — quicker than we have ever gone yet. 

 Among our other disagreeables here we have no fresh water 

 to spare for washing, and as I only saved a couple of shirts, 

 they are in a state of most uncomfortable dirtiness, but I 

 console myself with the thoughts of a glorious warm bath 

 when I get on shore. 



"October I. Oh, glorious day! Here we are on shore at 

 Deal, where the ship is at anchor. Such a dinner, with our 

 two captains ! Oh, beef-steaks and damson tart, a paradise 

 for hungry sinners. 



" October 5. London. Here I am laid up with swelled 

 ankles, my legs not being able to stand work after such a 

 long rest in the ship. I cannot write now at any length — I 

 have too much to think about. We had a narrow escape in the 

 Channel. Many vessels were lost in a storm on the night of 

 September 29, but we escaped. The old ' Iron Duke ' is dead. 



