At length a laughable incident occurred, which served to enliven our dull life somewhat, and keep us from sinking entirely into a state of nonentity. Several of the crew, one calm day, were out on the jib-boom, endeavoring to hook some fish which were around the ship in great numbers, that they might indulge in the luxury of a mess of fresh fish for dinner. One of the number, in hauling up a large albicore, lost his hat overboard. Spanish Jack being on deck, sang out, “What you give me get your hat?” “Two heads of tobacco,” shouted the man. In a moment Jack was overboard, and in a few seconds had the hat. Placing it on his head, he started for the ship. Although it was nearly calm, yet the ship was going slowly through the water, and the breeze _happened_ to be freshening. At every stroke Jack would make he would lose the hat off, and, stopping to pick it up, he found he was losing ground. He now tried a new experiment—throwing it ahead of him, and then swimming to it; then throwing it again, and so on; but even this would not work, as every time he would throw the hat he would go _under_ himself, and come up snorting and blowing like a porpoise. The darkey now began to be frightened. He was all the time losing ground; the ship was leaving him astern; and the captain finally sang out to him, “Never mind the hat; come aboard!” but to no purpose; Jack stuck to the hat, fearing he should lose the reward if he did not get it. At last, however, after repeated threats from the captain, he was under the necessity of abandoning it, and struck out boldly for the ship, shouting, “_Santa Maria! Santa Maria! Madre de Dios!_” at every stroke. A rope was thrown him, but he was so exhausted he could not hold fast of it; finally one of the ship’s company went down the side and made it fast round his body. Jack was now hauled in on deck more frightened than hurt, and as _pale_ as possible for a darkey to be. On recovering so as to speak, his first words were for the promised reward of tobacco, which were given him, although he had not recovered the hat. All hands had a hearty laugh over this incident, and it seemed to infuse new spirits into every one. Thursday, July 8th, we spoke the ship “Atkins Adams,” a vessel that left Guam in company with us. She had taken but forty barrels since coming upon the ground.