Captain Scruggs appears to be, and I believe he is, an entirely truthful man; but as for Goggins, he would lie for a worn-out chew of tobacco (he often tells monstrous falsehoods to the skipper concerning the men); and even Mr. Rarx must come under the same ban. It seems to me that this ship makes a great deal of water. Twice in every watch, night and day, since we have been south of 50°, the ship has had to be pumped out; and in twelve hours yesterday, when the wretched pumps broke down again, we made twenty-eight inches of water. It is all very fine to say that wooden ships are lighter in bad weather than iron ones, and to allude to the latter as diving-bells, but this ship is wetter than the iron “Mandalore” was running before a heavy sea, and the latter possessed the inestimable advantage of never leaking even when driven into a high head-sea. Captain Scruggs was in a state of mind when, after wearing round on the port tack this morning, he found that we couldn’t head up much better than north true. Of course, we had the customary eruption during the manœuvre, and he raged quite furiously at the helmsmen, who, unfortunately, were the two dullest men in the ship--Pettersen and Eckers. As I say, the captain wrought himself into wild gusts of passion, and when he found the ship off to north-northwest he had apparently exhausted all methods for easing his mind. But we reckoned without our skipper, being a man of much resource, and he conceived a brilliant plan. After standing motionless and speechless for a full minute he strode to the weather wheel-house door, tore it open, and crash! slammed it to. Again, another bang, worse than the first. Once more a great crashing rent the air that shook the structure, while the old man ground his teeth and worked his brush-like eyebrows as though they were on a string, as he stamped over to leeward, muttering to himself and shaking all over. It was a mirth-compelling scene. A little anecdote will show him in yet another phase: we asked him, a day or two ago, who was the best helmsman in the ship, and he replied, waspishly, “There hain’t no best among ’em; they’re all d---- bad; fed like kings, and this is what you get.” Latitude, 57° 30′ south; longitude, 67° west. +July 23+