Rain again from morning to night, with a few half-hour intervals. Wind this time from S.W. and warm; rain not so heavy as last week. There was not an hour dry enough to page break page 145 give the yawl her last coat of paint, so that her launch will be two days later than it otherwise would have been. They made a pair of oars and a yard; the women employed cutting the sail. Wortley and I bought a large hapuka—a fish about the size of the largest cod—on which we all dined together, leaving enough for a second meal. It was not a first-rate fish, but very fair, tasting something like a grey mullet—the cost only four shillings from the Maoris. Mr Jackson has determined to go to Callao in the Salacia, and from thence with her to the island where she loads guano, thence round the Horn home. The trench has kept the skirts of the house pretty dry; we are not at all inconvenienced by rain today. Wortley has got his floor and linings, his chimney and shingles, and sits like a prince by his own fireside, defying the elements. He contemplates a speculation in a boat—a coaster called the Flirt—to run between this and Sumner and Nelson, and other parts.