Porpoises gamboling all about. The S.S. Olympia passed at 11.30 a.m., long. That may be all well enough, however, where there is plenty of sea-room. But over-confidence, I believe, was the cause of the disaster to the liner Atlantic , and many more like her. The captain knew too well where he was.
Porpoises always prefer sailing-ships.
The captain was a young man, I observed, and had before him, I hope, a good record. On the morning of July 19 a mystic dome like a mountain of silver stood alone in the sea ahead. Although the land was completely hidden by the white, glistening haze that shone in the sun like polished silver, I felt quite sure that it was Flores Island. At half-past four p.m. it was abeam. The haze in the meantime had disappeared.