ova's stokehold formed in the
tropics, unless there was a good wind to blow down the one canvas shaft,
was a real test of staying power, and the actual shovelling of the coal
into the furnaces, one after the other, was as child's play to handling
the 'devil,' as the weighty instrument used for breaking up the clinker
and shaping the fire was called. The boilers were cylindrical marine or
return tube boilers, the furnaces being six feet long by three feet wide,
slightly lower at the back than at the front. The fire on the bars was
kept wedge-shape, that is, some nine inches high at the back, tapering to
about six inches in front against the furnace doors. The furnaces were
corrugated for strength. We were supposed to keep the pressure on the
gauge between 70 and 80, but it wanted some doing. For the most part it
was done.

We did, however, get uncomfortable days with the rain sluicing down and a
high temperature--everything wet on deck and below. But it had its
advantages in the fresh water it produced. Every bucket was on duty, and
the ship's company stripped naked and ran about the decks or sat in the
stream between the laboratories and wardroom skylight and washed their
very dirty clothes. The stream came through into our bunks, and no amount
of caulking ever stopped it. To sleep with a constant drip of water
falling upon you is a real trial. These hot, wet days were more trying to
the nerves than the months of wet, rough but cooler weather to come, and
it says much for the good spirit which prevailed that there was no
friction, though we were crowded together like sardines in a tin.

July 12 was a typical day (lat. 4 deg. 57' N., long. 22 deg. 4' W.). A very hot,
rainy night, followed by a squall which struck us while we were having
breakfast, so we went up and set all sail, which took until about 9.30
A.M. We then sat in the water on the deck and washed clothes until just
before mid-day, when the wind dropped, though the rain continued. So we
went up and furled all sail, a tedious business when the sails are wet
and heavy. Then work on cargo or coal till 7 P.M., supper, and glad to
get to sleep.

On July 15 (lat. 0 deg. 40' N., long. 21 deg. 56' W.) we crossed the Line with
all pomp and ceremony. At 1.15 P.M. Neptune in the person of Seaman Evans
hailed and stopped the ship. He came on board with his motley company,
who solemnly paced aft to the break of the poop, where he was met by
Lieutenant Evans. His wife (Br