From the 19th to the 24th, when Pareea and Koah left us to attend Terreeoboo, who had landed on some other part of the island, nothing very material happened on board.  The caulkers were set to work on the sides of the ships, and the rigging was carefully overhauled and repaired.  The salting of hogs for sea-store was also a constant, and one of the principal objects of Captain Cook’s attention.  As the success we met with in this experiment, during our present voyage, was much more complete than it had been in any former attempt of the same kind, it may not be improper to give an account of the detail of the operation.

It has generally been thought impracticable to cure the flesh of animals by salting in tropical climates, the progress of putrefaction being so rapid, as not to allow time for the salt to take (as they express it) before the meat gets a taint, which prevents the effect of the pickle.  We do not find that experiments, relative to this subject, have been made by the navigators of any nation before Captain Cook.  In his first trials, which were made in 1774, during his second voyage to the Pacific Ocean, the success he met with, though very imperfect, was yet sufficient to convince him of the error of the received opinion.  As the voyage, in which he was now engaged, was likely to be protracted a year beyond the time for which the ships had been victualled, he was under the necessity of providing, by some such means, for the subsistence of the crews, or of relinquishing the further prosecution of his discoveries.  He therefore lost no opportunity of renewing his attempts, and the event answered his most sanguine expectations.

The hogs which we made use of for this purpose, were of various sizes, weighing from four to twelve stone.[5] The time of slaughtering was always in the afternoon; and as soon as the hair was scalded off, and the entrails removed, the hog was divided into pieces of four or eight pounds each, and the bones of the legs and chine taken out, and, in the larger sort, the ribs also.  Every piece then being carefully wiped and examined, and the veins cleared of the coagulated blood, they were handed to the salters, whilst the flesh remained still warm.  After they had been well rubbed with salt, they were placed in a heap on a stage raised in the open air, covered with planks, and pressed with the heaviest weights we could lay on them.  In this situation they remained till the next evening, when they were again well wiped and examined, and the suspicious parts taken away.  They were then put into a tub of strong pickle, where they were always looked over once or twice a day, and if any piece had not taken the salt, which was readily discovered by the smell of the pickle, they were immediately taken out, re-examined, and the sound pieces put to fresh pickle.  This, however, after the precautions before used, seldom happened.  After six days, they were taken out, examined for the last time, and being again slightly pressed, they were packed in barrels, with a thin layer of salt between them.  I brought home with me some barrels of this pork, which was pickled at Owhyhee in January, 1779, and was tasted by several persons in England about Christmas, 1780, and found perfectly sound and wholesome.[6]