Monday, April 23rd.—­The gale blew as hard as ever, and quite as dead ahead.  About noon we made the island of Shaduan, or isle of Seals, so named by the ancients, when the sea and gulf abounded with seals.  There are still a few occasionally to be seen to the northward by the fishermen, and their skins are brought to Suez for sale.  We are making tacks backwards and forwards across the narrow sea, an exciting amusement for a yachtsman, as it requires constant attention.  The sailing directions say that this sea is ill surveyed, except in the direct channel.  There are many coral reefs and sunken rocks, and on whichever side you may happen to be wrecked, the natives are ready to rob, ill-treat, and kill you, or sell you as slaves in the interior.  It was on two projecting coral reefs from the island of Shaduan, that the ‘Carnatic’ was wrecked in 1869.  She ran ashore at four o’clock in the morning of the 13th of September, soon after having made the light on Rhas Garril.  We were at Suez in October of the same year, and everybody was then full of the sad particulars of the wreck, the soldiers being especially useful in bringing in the passengers’ luggage, which had been recovered from the Arabs.  One of our firemen, Abraham, was on board the ‘Carnatic’ at the time of the disaster, and lost all his worldly goods (not many, I should think, judging by what he has brought on board here).

The sea was very rough and disagreeable all day.  To us the temperature appears quite cool, indeed cold, though the thermometer still remains at 75 deg..  Our friends at Aden, who prophesied that I should want my sealskin jacket before leaving the Gulf of Suez, were not so far wrong in their prognostications as I imagined at the time.

Tuesday, April 24th.—­We are still beating to windward against a head gale, and by noon had made sixty-five miles to the good, right in the wind’s eye—­not a bad performance, considering that the gale was blowing with a force of nine or ten.  It has the merit of novelty too, for I suppose that for years no sailing ships have been seen in the Gulf of Suez.  The winds blow so steadily for months together, that for six months in the year you cannot get into the Red Sea, and for the other six months you cannot get out of it.

We passed the island of Rhas Garril, and soon afterwards a steamer went by, altering her course a good deal to inspect us.  She evidently thought we were a broken-down steamer, and intended to come to our rescue.  All yesterday and to-day we have been making flannel coats for the monkey, and covers for birdcages, and improvising shelters and snug corners for our pets.  At night especially the wind is quite crisp.  If this gale continues, it will be Thursday or Friday before we reach Suez; but it may possibly change to-night, and it looks now as if it were breaking.

[Illustration:  Beating up the Red Sea.]