We found a long swell outside, but not nearly as much as we had anticipated, though we are as yet under shelter of the land. As for the wind, it is now almost calm, the hour being three in the afternoon; but there is nothing set above the topsails on account of frequent squalls of considerable violence. The men are now so heavily wrapped up in clothes as to resemble nothing so much as corpulent mummies. They have to waddle instead of walk, and many of them have tied pieces of gunny sacks over their rubber boots. This, singularly enough, is a wonderful protection against cold; and they assert that if nothing else is handy, by simply pulling a pair of heavy socks over their boots their feet do not grow numb. It is strange that it should be so cold with the mercury no lower than 36°; yet here are stout, hardy men who have to knock off work sometimes to beat some life into themselves when the mate isn’t looking. My own clothes now weigh twenty-two pounds, or seventeen without the boots; this includes three suits of underwear and a sheepskin coat with the wool on, just as it came from the flank of the animal. Every one knows how the spectators rattle and shake at a football game in spite of thick wraps when the thermometer is no lower than 50°; how much more penetrating it must be here, then, when the mercury is nearly twenty degrees lower, and when the atmosphere is charged with that bitterness peculiar to the air at sea in the higher latitudes! It cannot be said that we have done particularly well so far on this voyage, for we have been nine weeks at sea this day and have only just pushed out into the Southern Ocean. I wonder how long it will be before we can point our jib-boom for the north star again? Latitude, 54° 50′ south; longitude, 63° 36′ west. +July 14+