Of course, there are whales whose habits lead them at certain seasons, for breeding purposes, to frequent various groups of islands, but the cachalot seems to be quite impartial in his preferences; if he “uses” around certain waters, he is just as likely to be found there in July as January.

The Bonins, too, form an ideal calling-place, from the whaling captain’s point of view.  Peel Island, the principal one of the cluster, has a perfect harbour in Port Lloyd, where a vessel can not only lie in comfort, sheltered from almost every wind that blows, but where provisions, wood, and water are plentiful.  There is no inducement, or indeed room, for desertion, and the place is healthy.  It is colonized by Japs from the kingdom so easily reached to the westward, and the busy little people, after their manner, make a short stay very agreeable.

Once clear of the southern end of Formosa we had quite a rapid run to the Bonins, carrying a press of sail day and night, as the skipper was anxious to arrive there on account of his recent injuries.  He was still very lame, and he feared that some damage might have been done to him of which he was ignorant.  Besides, it was easy to see that he did not altogether like anybody else being in charge of his ship, no matter how good they were.  Such was the expedition we made that we arrived at Port Lloyd twelve days after clearing up our last whale.  Very beautiful indeed the islands, appeared, with their bold, steep sides clad in richest green, or, where no vegetation appeared, worn into a thousand fantastic shapes by the sea, or the mountain torrents carving away the lava of which they were all composed.  For the whole of the islands were volcanic, and Port Lloyd itself is nothing more than the crater of a vast volcano, which in some tremendous convulsion of nature has sunk from its former high estate low enough to become a haven for ships.

I have said that it was a perfect harbour, but there is no doubt that getting in or out requires plenty of nerve as well as seamanship.  There was so little room, and the eddying flows of wind under the high land were so baffling, that at various times during our passage in it appeared as if nothing could prevent us from getting stuck upon some of the adjacent hungry-looking coral reefs.  Nothing of the kind happened, however, and we came comfortably to an anchor near three other whale-ships which were already there.  They were the Diego Ramirez, of Nantucket; the Coronel, of Providence, Rhode Island; and the grampus, of New Bedford.  These were the first whale-ships we had yet seen, and it may be imagined how anxious we felt to meet men with whom we could compare notes and exchange yarns.  It might be, too, that we should get some news of that world which, as far as we were concerned, might as well have been at the other extremity of the solar system for the last year, so completely isolated had we been.