Whilst we were waiting for steam to be got up, Tom took Muriel and me for a row in the ‘Flash,’ his own particular little boat, with about four inches of freeboard.  The possibility of doing this will give you a better idea of the tranquillity of this vast ocean than any description I can write.  At the same time, when we wanted to get into the boat, we found there was a considerable roll on, and that it was no easy matter without the aid of a gangway or ladder.  We rowed a little way from the yacht, and, considering how quiet it had seemed to us when on board, it was wonderful to observe how she rolled in the trough of the sea, without sails to steady her or motive power to guide her.  The Lota coals, though black and dirty beyond description, burn up very quickly, and in about an hour we were steaming merrily along, the Arabian horseshoe on our bowsprit’s end being now pointed direct for the island of Tahiti, instead of for wherever the wind chose to blow us.

Thursday, November 9th.—­A flat calm at 6 a.m.; a very light fair wind at 9 a.m.  In spite of my remonstrances, Tom determined, at half-past nine, to cease steaming and try sailing again.  About twelve o’clock a puff came that sent us along at the rate of 10-1/2 knots for a short time; but it soon dropped, and during the rest of the afternoon and evening, our average speed was only three or four knots an hour.  This is very poor work for the trades, but I don’t believe we are really in them yet, in spite of the wind charts.  It is possible that they may vary in different years; besides which it is now the height of summer, with the sun south of the line, which would naturally make them lighter.

Saturday, November 11th.—­At last we seem to be feeling the influence of the trades, as the wind continues to blow from the same direction, though it varies much in force.  Sometimes we are going along at the rate of 11-3/4 knots, sometimes barely five.  In the afternoon we had the usual Saturday singing practice.

Sunday, November 12th.—­Another lovely day.  We had the Litany and hymns at eleven, evening service and sermon at four.

Just before morning church some one turned on the water in the nursery bath, and forgot to turn it off again, so that when we came aft from the saloon we had the pleasure of finding everything in the children’s cabins afloat, and that a good deal of water had got down into the hold.  It was rather annoying at the time, but, I dare say, like many other present troubles, it was a good thing in the end.  It obliged us, at any rate, to have all the stores brought up on deck, and led to our taking an inventory of our resources sooner than we should otherwise have done.  I am sorry to say we found that, owing to the departure of our head steward and the illness of his successor, they have not been husbanded as carefully as they should have been, especially those provided for use forward.  Sailors are more like children than grown-up men, and require as much looking after.  While there is water in the tanks, for instance, they will use it in the most extravagant manner, without thought for the morrow; and they are quite as reckless with their other stores.