All this time we were beating gaily up to windward in company with our consort, both boats proceeding at much the same rate, and frequently hailing each other and sailing nearly alongside. On the third day from that of our departure, we saw upon our right, towering in great blue masses out of the sea, the high land of Santa Martha. Mariners say that it is higher than the Peak of Teneriffe, and that when the weather is very clear, there is a certain circuit of the Caribbean sea, not far from hence, where, from the tops of a lofty vessel, you may see at once the distant ridges of Hispaniola, the Blue Mountains of Jamaica, and the Peak of Santa Martha upon the main land. The next day, the coast line being far distant, and being cloven, as it were, by the great river De la Hacha, which here comes into the sea, we saw riding at anchor, in-shore from us, a squadron of small ships. We being still well at sea, the water beneath was of a deep blue; but where the Pearl Fleet, for such they were, lay, the hue of the sea was a light green. It was as glorious an afternoon as ever shone under the tropics, as bowling cheerily before the sea-breeze, we ran down for our sister ships, they lying at their anchors above the great bank of pearls. There were fourteen or fifteen barks similar to our own, and at some distance was a stately frigate, which protected them, lying-to. ‘That is the convoy of the Pearl Fleet,’ said Garbo; ‘we must first speak her, and she will allot our station on the bank.’