The pas­sen­gers and crew get some more food and a dose of good news.

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29th August
W. Lon. 68 Degrees, N. Lat. Degrees

At sea every­thing attracts atten­tion that varies the monot­o­ny of the sur­round­ing expanse. A shoal of por­pois­es, Gram­pus­es, fly­ing fish or a shark was sure to excite live­ly sen­sa­tions for the moment. But if a soli­tary sail was seen glid­ing along the edge of the hori­zon our deck would be crowd­ed with the pas­sen­gers. How inter­est­ing to them, this frag­ment of a world has­ten­ing to rejoin the great mass of exis­tence! And what a vari­ety of curi­ous sup­po­si­tions on the sub­ject!! Almost every day we came in sight of 2 or 3 ves­sels but spoke not more than 4.

The dis­con­tent­ment on board increased so much that the Capt. had resolved for 2 or 3 days past to go aboard the first ves­sel that approached near enough and pur­chase a sup­ply of tobac­co and oth­er nec­es­saries for the pas­sen­gers. This morn­ing a small ves­sel appeared in view bear­ing towards us under a light breeze. Our jol­ly boat was got out and the Capt. went on board of her. She proved to be a small schooner called the Mary bound from Bal­ti­more to Annapo­lis, Nova Sco­tia. The own­er and Capt. were both on board. After
remain­ing about 2 hours with them, our Capt. returned with a sup­ply of rum, lime juice, oranges, sug­ar, pork and biscuit.

Part of these he paid for and part were bestowed us. He brought also the joy­ful tid­ings that we were in Lon. 68 degrees and that the schooner was in sight of Sandy Hook* three days ago. This sup­ply, togeth­er with the cheer­ing news with which it was accom­pa­nied, pro­duced an excel­lent effect on the droop­ing spir­its of the pas­sen­gers and put a com­plete end to their griev­ances. The dis­con­tent of a tedious voy­age was for­got­ten in the joy­ful expectan­cy of short­ly land­ing on the shores of the great “land of promise.”

 

Sep­tem­ber 1st
W. Lon. 70 Degrees, N. Lat. 41 Degrees

As we approached the land the Capt. began to put things in a train for enter­ing port. He engaged me to set­tle his accounts with the sailors and make out man­i­fests and oth­er papers to be hand­ed in to the Cus­tom House on his arrival. I was thus employed every day until we came in sight of land and every­thing was in the best train I was capa­ble of putting it when we came to anchor. The Capt. was high­ly pleased with every­thing and the crew were very well con­tent­ed with the state of their accounts.

*****

* Sandy Hook is a large land spit in New Jer­sey at the mouth of Low­er New York Bay.

Next week: Land!