A Short Account of My Voyage Per the St Kilda
from Liverpool to Otago, New Zealand
Monday, May 19th 1873
Beautiful morning. Ship going about 5 knots. Passed and saw in the distance Madiera. I could quite realise what a splendid climate this island is said to possess. We fell in with the "Trades" today and we now considered ourselves fairly on our voyage, hoping these trades would take us over the "Line". Which in fact they did. Lizzie was now quite used to the sea and enjoyed herself very much.
Tuesday, May 20th 1873
Splendid day, tho' very hot. I several times during the day lit my pipe with the aid of a small pocket microscope, and that almost immediately. This day we were busy for 3 or 4 hours moving some of the cargo from the bows to the stern, the Captain thinking her (the ship) too heavy "by the head". Finished the eggs. The ham going a little mouldy. Walter (little) ate a great quantity of salt (fancying it was sugar, I suppose) and was in consequence very sick.
Wednesday, May 21st 1873
Again a lovely day. At night had a series of jumping matches - then songs and indoor games. The elder Smith (Harold) was taken ill.
Thursday, May 22nd 1873
Very hot. Little Arthur's arm was quite blistered by the sun and must have been very painful, tho' it could not have been exposed more than a few minutes. We saw a great number of flying fish. They are very beautiful and look like silver flying through the air. The fish themselves are about the size of a Herring, they have very long fins say 6 or 7 inches long. They have the power of leaping from the water and the not flying, for they do not move their fins or wings, but of supporting themselves "en dit" so long as their wings remain wet. I cannot vouch for this, but we have often seen them "fly" for, I dare say l/4 of a mile. All this "flying" is accounted for by the fact that they do it to escape from their enemies, the "Bonetas" and "Albecores". If one sees flying fish, you may be sure there are plenty of these fish about. Both are very fine fish rather larger than a big Salmon, and having a light silvery belly they look very pretty rushing through the water. They are also very good eating; at least so it is said. We did our best to catch some but, although we one up to within about two feet of the boom (from which we were fishing) it managed to get off the hook. I must not forget to mention what fun we had in watching these chases. Fancy the sea without any special object to attract the eye. All in a minute hundreds of flying fish start up and then you see twenty or thirty Bonetas darting out (sometimes 10 or 12 feet out of the water) trying to catch their prey. We also saw today a great many Nautilus or as some people call them Portuguese man-of-war. They are very beautiful "living shells" having the power of coming to the surface and then opening their shells and sailing along. They are a kind of transparent lilac colour and look very pretty floating along. I have on some occasions counted some hundreds just around the ship, whilst you could see them in every direction in the distance. What millions there must be.
Friday, May 23rd 1873
Very hot. My only note for this date is that we had some whiskey and sherry. I will not dwell.
Saturday, May 24th 1873
Queen's Birthday. Had the main deck scraped and in the afternoon, a half holiday of H.M. Entered the tropics.
Sunday, May 25th 1873
Very fine. Had a barque on our port side all day. In the afternoon had a long yarn about "cawls" (vido dictionary). Both Smart and Mrs. Ship had theirs with them and they felt quite sure (according to their own statements) that there was no chance of them getting drowned so long as they kept them in their possession. I am not very superstitious and should rather have liked to have laid hold of the "cawls" and thrown them overboard. Poor Charlie Downes, our junior apprentice, was sent up the rigging for some neglect and, not answering when called, in about 1/2 an hour, Willett was sent up to see after him. He found him very comfortably asleep, having taken the precaution first to lash himself to the mast.
Journey to NZ