This morning we were quite entertained at meeting a number of the so-called “Catamarans,” the crazy crafts of the fishermen, who appear to be amphibious animals on this coast. Their boats consist of a few logs lashed together, over which the water breaks at every moment without apparently disturbing the occupants in the least. They fish, walk about, sit, lie down or stand, eat, drink, and sleep, to all appearance as contented and comfortable as we are in our princely steamer. Usually they go into port at nightfall, but are occasionally driven out to sea by the wind, and may sometimes be met with two hundred miles and more from the shore. To-day we have fairly come upon the South American coast. Yesterday we could catch sight occasionally of low sand banks; but this morning we have sailed past the pretty little town of Olinda, with its convent on the hill, and the larger city of Pernambuco, whose white houses come quite down to the sea-shore. Immediately in front of the town lies the reef, which runs southward along the coast for a hundred miles and more, enclosing between itself and the shore a strip of quiet waters, forming admirable anchorage for small shipping. Before Pernambuco this channel is quite deep, and directly in front of the town there is a break in the reef forming a natural gateway through which large vessels can enter. We have now left the town behind, but the shore is still in sight; a flat coast rising into low hills behind, and here and there dotted with villages and fishing-huts.