A Glorious Night.

With the exception of a pampero (so called from the pampas of Argentine, over which it blows) that compelled the ship to heave-to for 24 hours when off the River Plate, she met with moderate and favourable weather that carried her into the south-east trade winds, which, however, were light, and not so steady as they usually are in those latitudes. "On the northern edge of the trade wind," writes Captain Duder, describing a wonderful experience the ship had, "we passed through a belt of the ocean about 50 miles wide that was like molten silver. Every star in the sky was shining bright and clear, the sea was densely full of every kind of tropical sea animalculae, which caused the water to sparkle like myriads of brilliants. The scene was wonderful and beautiful, butpage 23 withal so weird that it created a most uncanny feeling. Even our steel-nerved captain felt the influence, and he ordered all light sails to be taken and furled.

"While I and two other seamen were out stowing the jib-topsail and two flying jibs we saw, greatly to our astonishment, three pretty little heads bobbing up and down in the silver sea under the jib-boom. One grizzled old 'matlow' (a sailor's name for an old salt, from the French 'matelot') declared they were mermaids, and he recalled how on a similar night near the same region, he had many years before seen the same sort of thing. After all the light sails had been stowed and the watch, with their pipes lit, had made themselves comfortable on deck, the conversation turned to the wonderful and beautiful night with the added marvel of the three mermaids (so-called) under the bow. Opinions varied of course. The younger hands were very sceptical, but the old ones had no doubt whatever that the heads we had seen were the real thing.

"Seamen following their trade all over the world, in every latitude, in gale and calm, in varied climes, see many beautiful and magnificent sights, but that entrancing night of forty-five years ago was easily the most rare, the most beautiful and awe-inspiring I have ever experienced, or ever hope to experience."

When the ship picked up the north-east trade wind she found it very strong, at times amounting to a moderate or a fresh gale, which lasted to the 30th north latitude. All plain sail was set and hung on to, a number of them being blown away, but always replaced by others, night or day. At times the ship drove bows under, and one afternoon one heavy sea rolled so high that the belly of the maintopmast staysail was torn right out of the sail, and the decks were swept clean of everything movable from fo'c'sle head to poop. Light, variable and squally weather was experienced in the run from the trades to the mouth of the English Chanel, a converging point for hundreds of ships from all over the world, and one of great interest to the homeward bound seamen as old friends among the craft would be recognised and furnish material for much talk about other crews and other voyages full of stirring incidents.

After passing the Western Islands the ship got favourable fresh winds for some days which carried her up to sight the Lizard Light. That night the wind came down Channel from the eastward and freshened to a very hard gale. During this time about twenty-five large ships and barques with smaller craft had got bunched, all hove-to, and down to a few of the smallest and the strongest sails. On the afternoon of the third day the wind eased, and the order came on the City of Auckland to reef and set the upper topsails.

When the men were up on the yard they saw another ship about five miles off doing exactly the same as the City of Auckland. Apparently none of the other skippers thought it prudent to make sail at that state of the weather, and these two ships soon forged away from the rest of them. Twenty-four hours later the City of Auckland was in Torbay on the port tack, the wind north-east, and the ship laying well up the Channel; everybody elated, homeward bound, Old England right alongside, and London (and pay-day) close ahead of them.