Aboard the Pamelia we found Mr. Edwards, our former second officer, acting in the same capacity there. Her mate having left at Vasse, and gone home in the Dolphin, her former second mate took his berth, and Mr. Edwards the one left vacant by his promotion. Her crew seemed to us like old friends, and were greeted as such. They had been cruising on this coast ever since our departure, had been very successful, and anticipated a speedy return home. Their third mate had been taken very ill aboard the ship, and they had but a short time previously touched at Vasse for the purpose of leaving him, supposing that he could receive better attention ashore. Soon after they spoke the ship Canton, and were informed of his death. How the report originated I know not; for, in the following January, when we touched at that port, he was alive and well, and had been amusing himself kangaroo hunting. The Pamelia brought us letters that had been received by mail at Vasse. As I was one of the fortunate ones, I was much gratified at receiving good news from home, and had my mind set at rest regarding the welfare of all my friends for another year. On the 3d of November we lowered away for blackfish, of which the waist-boat captured one. A breeze springing up, the boats set their sails. The starboard-boat, by the carelessness of her manager, was capsized whilst merrily gliding along in pursuit of the fish, and her occupants, of whom I was one, got a ducking. When the boat went over, I was caught by the backstay that secured the mast, and had some difficulty in disentangling myself under water. The waist boat ran down, picked us up, and put us aboard the ship, where the whole affair was made a subject of laughter: this view always being taken of an accident to a boat where no person is seriously injured.