We were forty days at the Sandwich Islands, and on the 21st of September weighed anchor, and sailed away from the fertile vales of Oahu. Passing along the western shores of the group, we steered to the southward, until the trade winds carried us within a few hundred miles of the equator; where meeting, between the parallels of seven and ten, a strong easterly current, reacting from the north-eastern trades, we were swept three hundred miles to the eastward.

During this period we had light, variable winds, attended by a confused, uneasy sea, and one continual series of rains. The like was never seen; it poured in torrents for seventeen days; the tar of the standing rigging appeared white-washed; sails wet, chafed, and torn; decks sodden and spongy, and the heat below oppressive.

One night, as usual, the windows of heaven were opened, and the rain came down, beyond all ancient similes. I was wet to the bones, and am convinced they too were damp; the heavy canvas was slamming and beating against the masts and tops, with a noise like the report of cannon, whenever the ship gave a quick lurch, giving the idea, of flying out of the bolt ropes; indeed I wished they would, for the yards had been braced every way to woo the fitful breezes, which only for a moment would fill the leaden sails, and then hop around to another quarter. The night was black as Erebus! except when the lightning flashed out in a blinding glare, with a pale, blueish dazzle, like to the flash of a gun, or a burning blue light; illuminating the mazes of rigging, lofty spars, and clusters of the watch, crouching under partial shelter of the hammock-nettings;—then all was dark again. I was standing on the poop, up to my ancles in water, although feeling as if swimming; a little old quarter-master directing the helmsman was at my elbow—I could not see, but I felt him,—he too was at times trying to feel the white feathery dog vane, to know where the wind was! It was old Harry Greenfield! None of your low-crowned, flowing-ribbon'd, wide-trouser'd dandy Jacks, pricked all over with china-ink, like a savage; but a short, stout, wholesome little "tar of all weathers," with a pleasant, rosy, good-humored visage, bronzed and wilted to be sure, and rather mouldy about the head, for he had "served his full time in a man-of-war ship"—nearly half a century—and no doubt had taught many a sucking reefer, and given excellent advice to lots of sapient lieutenants—I know he has to me often; in a word, to complete his portrait, he was the image of Durand's Santa Claus! "Well," said I, "old gentleman, how are you to-night?" "Dry as dust, sir." "What! I thought you wet!" "Fat!" said he, misunderstanding me, "what on—salt junk? You might carry a lump of it from here to Jerusalem, and not get enough fat to grease the pint of a sail-needle." "No! wet I say." "Ah! yes, sir! You're right, my hands and feet are shrunk up like a washerwoman's thumb, but I meant inside, sir." "Well, here's the key of the locker, go down and take a glass of grog, but mind you allow for variation." "Aye, aye, sir—no higher nor nor-west." Presently he came splashing back to his old stand. "Mr. Blank, I don't see any shells, tappa, and them sorts of curiosities stowed away in your state-room." "What of that?" "Presents to your friends, sir?" "Oh, no, I heard of a witty lady, who had a nautical lover constantly sending her navy trash, that she had it all packed in the attic to prevent the drawing-rooms being taken for a sailor boarding-house." "Sensible woman, that," chuckled old Harry; "you may buy the same things for half the money in Water-street, besides hubble hubbles made in Hamburgh." The rain came down with renewed violence, if possible, and I became so completely saturated, and water-logged, as to be on the point of requesting a couple of stout top-men to take me by head and heels and wring me comparatively dry, when our confab was interrupted by a sharp squall; but just as as the frigate began to move lively through the water, the wind died quietly away, the topsails flapped against the masts, and all became dark and rainy as before. Could a saint help anathematising such weather? "It's unpleasant business this going to sea," chimed in old Santa Claus, deprecating my wrath against the unfeeling elements; "you ought to try a smoker, I did once." "You did?" said I, incredulously. "Yes, sir, I was paid off from a merchantman in Orleans, and took passage in one of them smokers, bigger than a three-decker."

"But tell me, my old sea dog, why don't you leave the broad ocean, and settle down quietly on shore?" "Why; sir, I can't afford it!" "No! well, let me hear your ideas of life!" Moving close to my side, while the light from the binnacle flashed upon his pleasant face and dripping garments, he took a reflecting glance at the compass and then began: "D'ye see, sir, I want a country seat—with a nice sail-boat. I'd get up early, and take a good sniffler of brandy, with a dash of peppermint; then I'd go somewhere or another and take breakfast—call for me horse, and ride away eight or ten miles in the country—(he looked like a horseman!)—when I'd get half slewed, and come to town and visit the ladies—." Here he appeared palled. "Go on," I said "Then, sir, I'd take a glass of old Madeira—with an egg in it—every half hour—until bed-time, mind ye—when, with another sniffler"—

"Eight bells!" sung out the orderly at the cabin doors. The watch was called to take their accustomed drenching, and I went below, without-hearing the conclusion of old Greenfield's yarn.

This weather, caused probably by the Equinox, lasted until the 11th of October, when the winds sprang from the South, blew away the wet clouds, and carried the ship to a longitude of 128° in 5° North latitude, when the breeze gradually veered to the Eastward, and we crossed the Equator. On the morning of the 25th we discovered the easternmost Islands of the Marquesas—passed Hood's Island, and the following day anchored in Nukeheva—the Anna Maria bay of Mr. Gouch—Surveyor of the Daedalus, one of Vancouver's squadron—who, in ignorance of the previous discovery by the Spaniards under Alvaro de MendaÑa, had named the group after his commander, Hergest.