Scenes on the Pacific Ocean.—Difficulty of reaching the harbor of Panama, by sail ships.—Arrival at Panama.—The town of Panama, and its inhabitants.—Passage across the isthmus, to Chagres.

After a stay in California of a little more than five months, I took my departure for home by way of the ocean, on board a sail ship bound for Panama, the 21st day of October, 1849. As there is often a difficulty in getting out of the bay of San Francisco into the ocean, with sail ships, on account of a strong wind that is much of the time blowing through the straits eastward from the ocean, and the dense fog that envelops the sea, at the entrance of the bay, we were detaind nearly two days before we could pass the straits into the ocean.

Our passage from San Francisco to Panama, was accomplishd in 40 days, a distance of about 4000 miles, tho’ along the coast, it would not much exceed 3500. This passage was considerd by the master of the vessel, as expeditious as is common upon waters of as little wind as is not unfrequently witnessd upon the Pacific ocean.

Whilst on my passage from Oregon last spring, to California, I saw a short distance from ship, a whale, in an attempt at running a race with us. He kept along in a parallel course with the ship, one or two miles, and then left us. Ship-masters say they will outrun the fleetest ship.

But we saw on our passage from San Francisco to Panama, but few of the monsters of the deep, so often describd in history and romance, although this coast is the place to which whalemen resort. At a distance from ship, we saw now and then a few whales, spouting the briny waters high into the atmosphere—and then again, a shoal of porpoises surrounding the ship—some of which, our sailors caught with their hooks and lines.—The flesh of the porpoise is of a reddish color, and coarse, but tolerably pleasant to eat.

The dolphin is a small fish of only two or three feet in length—and has the power of changing its color. The flesh is said to be poisonous in some degree, and is therefore not good for food. These fish are shy and hard to take, except by stratagem.

Our captain is an old whaleman, and his vessel was fitted out from Nantucket, for that purpose. On our way south,—he one day took 4 or 5 men into a whale-boat, and started out from the vessel in pursuit of some black fish we saw at a short distance from us. We had not watchd him long before we saw him returning with a large black fish in tow of his whale boat. He presently came along side, and down the halyards were let—to haul the monster upon deck,—and in a few minutes, was seen stretchd athwart the ship, a giant fish, weighing about 2500 pounds,—out of which, was obtaind 4 barrels of oil.

This was a specimen of whaling on a small scale. The fish here caught, was a species of whale, and was organizd similarly. A few inches from the end of his snout, upon the top of it, was a valve, about 3 inches square, out of which, the animal spouts.

After tossing and rolling about upon the wide Pacific, till I was utterly tird of my situation, we at length arrivd at the outer confines of Panama bay, on Monday, Nov. 26. Although this bay is more than 100 miles wide at the entrance, yet it is so situated, that most of the year, there is a wind from the Caribbean sea, blowing across the continent outward from the harbor of Panama, which renders an entrance into it slow and difficult. We, however, after tacking the ship the tedious number of 10 times, arrivd in safety at the harbor of Panama, on the evening of Friday, Nov. 30.

Our arrival at Panama, was an epoch of satisfaction to me, as well as my fellow passengers, after having experienced so many days of monotony upon the ocean.

The anchorage for ships is inconveniently situated from town, being nearly 3 miles distant.

After having arrivd at the town, and wanderd over it somewhat, I found it to be located upon a rock, formd of successive layers of apparent lava. But as my opportunity of examining it was scanty, I could not well determine its character. The town wears a dilapidated appearance, from its extreme age, and a want of attention to repairs. Many of the houses are large,—and three stories high, with broken down roofs, and with grass growing out of every corner, and upon the roofs. They have the oddity of being built partly of bricks, and partly of stone, intermingld together in the body of the walls. They have windows arrangd similar to windows in houses of the states, but without sash or glass, being left entirely open. No chimneys are built to any of the houses, and cooking is done with small portable furnaces, or a fire is built upon the ground, between 2 small rocks set up edgewise, so as to contain the fuel. In the cooking apartments, an arrangement is made for the escape of the smoke at the top of the room, so that it may not communicate with their dining or sitting rooms.

The town, previous to the gold excitement of California, was in a great measure, vacant of inhabitants, and large and commodious rooms may have been hird for the small sum of 12½ cents per day. The streets are mostly narrow, but they are tolerably well pavd, and are washd nearly every day for ¾ of a year, from the all copious fountain of the heavens above. No drays or coaches are seen to mar the beauty of the streets, and grass is seen growing even in the middle of the streets, and along its sidewalks. This was once a populous town, but now—like most other Spanish towns along the western coast of America, is seen the marks of imbecility, indifference and decay. They have a small market or two, to which all classes indiscriminately, resort for their daily support. The town next to the bay is walld around, upon which, a few cannon were placd for its former defense.

The inhabitants speak the Spanish language. They are cleanly in dress, plain in their manners, and familiar in their conversation. They are unassuming in their style, and liberal in their hospitalities.

I am inclind to think the character of the American Spanish has hitherto been misrepresented. During my stay in California, I was located among that people, and I ever found them willing to part with half their last meal to feed a hungry man. Although the Spanish ladies are almost universally neat washers, yet their is a want of taste in their dress, it being loosely, though not fantastically adjusted about their persons. In their behavior, their sitting and reclining postures have an unchaste appearance, though this may arise from want of proper training.

The width of the isthmus from Panama across to the bay of Darien, is not much different from 50 miles—but by the way of the old Panama road to Chagres, the distance is about 64 miles. Through this route the present emigration passes.—From Panama, there is a portage of about 24 miles, to Cruses, a town of about 150 houses, at the present head waters of the Chagres river. There is also, another town of similar importance, about 5 miles below, upon the Chagres river, calld Gorgona. To this town, also, there is a road which leads off from the Cruses road about half way distant from Panama to Cruses.

The present Cruses road is probably of as ancient date as the town of Panama. It has once been pavd, and a tolerably good road for pack animals to pass, but too narrow to admit of carriages. Across the portage, the country is uneven, though not mountainous, and much of the way, the road is cut through hills of soft rock. At present, the pavement is almost all broken up, and the road is muddy and disagreeable to pass, much of the year, even with pack animals. Most of the property that now passes that road, is carrid upon the backs of native citizens,—though horses or mules can be hird at either end of the rout for the transportation of property.

The houses of Cruses and Gorgona, and also a few scattering houses along the portage, are made of Bamboo, a reed which grows very tall, but small in size. These reeds are set upon the ends, and firmly crowded together to the size of the requird wall. At the corners of these walls, are set posts of sufficient strength to support the roofs, which are thatchd of the cocoa leaf. After the roofs are completed, no rains can penetrate them. The slender appearance of these houses, seems to be a proof that no tornados or heavy winds exist along the isthmus,—and some families live in tenements of nothing but a roof placd upon posts in the form of a Dutch barrack.

The remainder of the way from Cruses to Chagres, is down the Chagres river,—a stream of considerable importance in time of high water, though not of sufficient depth to admit of the navigation of any but small class steamboats, in times of common stages of the river.

The country across the isthmus truly indicates a want of yankee enterprise. No agricultural interests are resorted to for the support of the inhabitants. All appears drear, and the country is thickly coverd with low, leafy kinds of timber, heavily laden much of it, with vines of various kinds, pending their branches near to the ground. Now and then, however, along the way is seen a small opening or lawn, where a few cattle are grazing—and these of the thriftiest kind,—indicating the advantages which might be derivd from the improvement of the soil upon the isthmus.