Thursday, November 19th.—­At 3.30 P.M. boarded the English ship Avalanche (transferred) two or three days from Singapore, with newspapers from England of the 10th of October—­only forty days!  Gratified at the general good aspect of the news, and particularly at our victory at Chicamauga.  Reports several American ships laid up at Singapore, and a general stagnation of American trade.  This ship came to anchor some two miles astern of us, and we sent off the prisoners of the Contest by her, the Master consenting to take them for a chronometer which I sent him.  He will probably put them on shore at Angra Point.  We first hoisted the Dutch flag, and sent a German, Master’s Mate we had, on board of him; but the Master, when told that we were a Dutch ship of war, said, “Oh! that won’t do; I was on board of her in Liverpool, when she was launched!”

Friday, November 20th.—­Lowered and rigged the cutter, and sent her to board a couple of barques, which reported four American ships at Bankok; there about to lay up, lest they should fall in with us, and one American ship at Manilla.

Saturday, November 21st.—­At 3 P.M. got under way under sail, with the wind from the south-west.

Sunday, Nov. 22nd.—­At 3 A.M. lowered the propeller, and went ahead under steam.  Passed within about four miles of Direction Island at 5.15 P.M.

Monday, Nov. 23rd.—­At 8 A.M. made Seraia.

Thursday, Nov. 26th.—­Lat. 5.36; Long. 111.42, or within fifty miles of dangerous ground, towards which the current is setting us.  No anchoring ground. 47 fathoms.  After noon, the calm still continuing, let go a kedge in 50 fathoms of water—­mud—­and veered to 150 fathoms.

Friday, Nov. 27th.—­Noon.  The struggle against the current is hopeless in the death-like calm that prevails, and so we have come-to again with the kedge.

Sunday, Nov. 29th.—­After five days of dead calm, we took the monsoon this morning at daylight, settling in lightly, and at 9 A.M. we got under way, and stood to the northward and westward.

Thursday, Dec, 3rd.—­At daylight we discovered a small vessel at anchor near the head of the harbour of the Island of Condore, with French colours, and awnings and other indications of her being a vessel of war.  Sent a boat in to examine water.  Boat returned at 1 P.M. with the commander of the vessel—­a French vessel of war—­and I was quite surprised to learn that we had arrived in civilized waters, and that the Island of Condore was in the possession of the French.  There was a small garrison of 50 or 60 at the village on the east side.  There had been a recent revolt of the natives, the French officers said; and for this reason there were few vegetables or fruits to be had, and most of the natives had betaken themselves to the mountains.  Got underway and ran into the harbour, the Frenchman politely showing me the way, and anchored in nine fathoms.  Got a spring out, so as to present our port broadside to any enemy that might be disposed to violate neutrality, and, to save coal, permitted all the fires to go out.  A couple of ships, running before the wind, passed in sight during the day—­the ships prudently running a little out of the track to sight the island in this uncertain sea.