6o 
FROM CAPE OF GOOD HOPE TO SYDNEY. 
nozzles amidst the erst trim appurtenances of the gallant “ Challenger; ” and light-hearted 
Jack, who revels in scanty clothing and bare feet, now strode the wet, slippery deck in heavy 
jacket and capacious sea-boots. Christmas Day was a counterpart of its dismal predecessor 
spent in the inhospitable Bay of Biscay. In the afternoon, however, the clouds lifted, and we 
saw land before us—Prince Edward Island on the left, Marion Island on the right, their 
snow-covered summits just visible between sea and cloud. 
On the following morning we proceeded along the northern shore of Marion Island. 
A singular-looking rock, which, dimly seen through the mist, might be mistaken for a ship 
under full sail, rises from the sea near the north-western extremity. We stopped opposite 
a point where a valley descends to the sea. The bottom of this valley is covered with a 
chaotic mass of rocks, and presents the appearance of an old lava-current. Nothing could 
exceed the desolate aspect of the island—near the water’s edge a line of dark-brown cliffs 
alternating with patches of green turf; above, a confused heap of snow-covered hills, their 
conical shape betraying a volcanic origin. The grassy slopes were dotted with white spots, 
which at first sight suggested the presence of sheep, but on nearer inspection turned out to 
be large white albatrosses sitting on their nests. This magnificent bird, with its snow-white 
plumage, hooked bill, and sparkling hazel eyes, might be called the eagle of the ocean. It 
generally measures over ten feet from tip to tip of wing, and weighs about twenty pounds. 
\A e had often admired its graceful flight, as day after day it followed in the wake of our 
ship, yet it seems, in spite of, or rather because of, its large wings, to experience some 
difficulty both when alighting and when getting under way. Before settling down upon the 
water, it dips its feet into the waves in order to arrest its motion, and a little time elapses 
ere the mighty pinions are folded up and packed out of sight one wonders where, for now 
the noble bird looks very like an over-grown goose. On land, at the moment when the 
albatross touches the ground, the momentum of the body is such that the bird turns 
completely over on its back, while to rise on the wing it has to run a distance of some 
hundred yards. Frederick Stoltenhoff remarked that the albatross avoids the tussock grass 
