e
_Spray_--Cocoanut fiber as a padlock--Courtesies from the admiral of
the Queen's navy--Off for St. Helena--Land in sight.

The Cape of Good Hope was now the most prominent point to pass. From
Table Bay I could count on the aid of brisk trades, and then the
_Spray_ would soon be at home. On the first day out from Durban it
fell calm, and I sat thinking about these things and the end of the
voyage. The distance to Table Bay, where I intended to call, was about
eight hundred miles over what might prove a rough sea. The early
Portuguese navigators, endowed with patience, were more than
sixty-nine years struggling to round this cape before they got as far
as Algoa Bay, and there the crew mutinied. They landed on a small
island, now called Santa Cruz, where they devoutly set up the cross,
and swore they would cut the captain's throat if he attempted to sail
farther. Beyond this they thought was the edge of the world, which
they too believed was flat; and fearing that their ship would sail
over the brink of it, they compelled Captain Diaz, their commander, to
retrace his course, all being only too glad to get home. A year later,
we are told, Vasco da Gama sailed successfully round the "Cape of
Storms," as the Cape of Good Hope was then called, and discovered
Natal on Christmas or Natal day; hence the name. From this point the
way to India was easy.

Gales of wind sweeping round the cape even now were frequent enough,
one occurring, on an average, every thirty-six hours; but one gale was
much the same as another, with no more serious result than to blow the
_Spray_ along on her course when it was fair, or to blow her back
somewhat when it was ahead. On Christmas, 1897, I came to the pitch of
the cape. On this day the _Spray_ was trying to stand on her head, and
she gave me every reason to believe that she would accomplish the feat
before night. She began very early in the morning to pitch and toss
about in a most unusual manner, and I have to record that, while I was
at the end of the bowsprit reefing the jib, she ducked me under water
three times for a Christmas box. I got wet and did not like it a bit:
never in any other sea was I put under more than once in the same
short space of time, say three minutes. A large English steamer
passing ran up the signal, "Wishing you a Merry Christmas." I think
the captain was a humorist; his own ship was throwing her propeller
out of water.

Two days later, the _Spray_, having recove