as print. They can't seem to get north of 7 degrees
N.; they are still there the next day:

(Diary entry) May 12. A good rain last night, and we caught a good
deal, though not enough to fill up our tank, pails, &c. Our object
is to get out of these doldrums, but it seems as if we cannot do it.
To-day we have had it very variable, and hope we are on the northern
edge, thought we are not much above 7 degrees. This morning we all
thought we had made out a sail; but it was one of those deceiving
clouds. Rained a good deal to-day, making all hands wet and
uncomfortable; we filled up pretty nearly all our water-pots,
however. I hope we may have a fine night, for the captain certainly
wants rest, and while there is any danger of squalls, or danger of
any kind, he is always on hand. I never would have believed that
open boats such as ours, with their loads, could live in some of the
seas we have had.

During the night, 12th-13th, 'the cry of A SHIP! brought us to our
feet.' It seemed to be the glimmer of a vessel's signal-lantern rising
out of the curve of the sea. There was a season of breathless hope while
they stood watching, with their hands shading their eyes, and their
hearts in their throats; then the promise failed: the light was a rising
star. It is a long time ago--thirty-two years--and it doesn't matter
now, yet one is sorry for their disappointment. 'Thought often of those
at home to-day, and of the disappointment they will feel next Sunday at
not hearing from us by telegraph from San Francisco.' It will be
many weeks yet before the telegram is received, and it will come as a
thunderclap of joy then, and with the seeming of a miracle, for it
will raise from the grave men mourned as dead. 'To-day our rations were
reduced to a quarter of a biscuit a meal, with about half a pint of
water.' This is on May 13, with more than a month of voyaging in front
of them yet! However, as they do not know that, 'we are all feeling
pretty cheerful.'

In the afternoon of the 14th there was a thunderstorm, 'which toward
night seemed to close in around us on every side, making it very dark
and squally.' 'Our situation is becoming more and more desperate,' for
they were making very little northing 'and every day diminishes our
small stock of provisions.' They realise that the boats must soon
separate, and each fight for its own life. Towing the quarter-boats is a