As we were to be here over Sunday, and Monterey was the best place to go ashore on the whole coast, and we had had no liberty-day for nearly three months, every one was for going ashore.  On Sunday morning as soon as the decks were washed, and we were through breakfast, those who had obtained liberty began to clean themselves, as it is called, to go ashore.  Buckets of fresh water, cakes of soap, large coarse towels, and we went to work scrubbing one another, on the forecastle.  Having gone through this, the next thing was to step into the head,—­ one on each side,—­ with a bucket apiece, and duck one another, by drawing up water and heaving over each other, while we were stripped to a pair of trousers.  Then came the rigging up.  The usual outfit of pumps, white stockings, loose white duck trousers, blue jackets, clean checked shirts, black kerchiefs, hats well varnished, with a fathom of black ribbon over the left eye, a silk handkerchief flying from the outside jacket pocket, and four or five dollars tied up in the back of the neckerchief, and we were ``all right.’’ One of the quarter-boats pulled us ashore, and we streamed up to the town.  I tried to find the church, in order to see the worship, but was told that there was no service, except a mass early in the morning; so we went about the town, visiting the Americans and English, and the Mexicans whom we had known when we were here before.  Toward noon we procured horses, and rode out to the Carmel Mission, which is about a league from the town, where we got something in the way of a dinner—­ beef, eggs, frijoles, tortillas, and some middling wine—­ from the mayor-domo, who, of course, refused to make any charge, as it was the Lord’s gift, yet received our present, as a gratuity, with a low bow, a touch of the hat, and ``Dios se lo pague!’’

After this repast we had a fine run, scouring the country on our fleet horses, and came into town soon after sundown.  Here we found our companions, who had refused to go to ride with us, thinking that a sailor has no more business with a horse than a fish has with a balloon.  They were moored, stem and stern, in a grog-shop, making a great noise, with a crowd of Indians and hungry half-breeds about them, and with a fair prospect of being stripped and dirked, or left to pass the night in the calabozo.  With a great deal of trouble we managed to get them down to the boats, though not without many angry looks and interferences from the Mexicans, who had marked them out for their prey.  The Diana’s crew—­ a set of worthless outcasts who had been picked up at the islands from the refuse of whale-ships—­ were all as drunk as beasts, and had a set-to on the beach with their captain, who was in no better state than themselves.  They swore they would not go aboard, and went back to the town, were robbed and beaten, and lodged in the calabozo, until the next day, when the captain brought them out.  Our forecastle, as usual after a liberty-day, was a scene of tumult all night long, from the drunken ones.  They had just got to sleep toward morning, when they were turned-up with the rest, and kept at work all day in the water, carrying hides, their heads aching so that they could hardly stand.  This is sailor’s pleasure.