It was a glorious passage from Madeira outward. The weather was fine, the passengers were contented and happy, and altogether we were sorry when we got to the Cape and each went their separate ways. There had been some discussion on the previous voyage as to whether the ship could lay in the Company’s berth, or whether she was not too big to do so. There was only one way to settle this, and that was to put her in it and try. This I did, and I remember there were some complimentary notices in the Cape papers on the transaction. We went up the coast that time as far as East London, and had the best of luck in getting rid of our cargo. I profited greatly by the study of a little work on South African coast weather by my friend Captain Hepworth, who had obtained a wonderful insight into it. To know what the weather on that coast is likely to be is no small advantage in taking up an anchorage. Further, I began to discover that Harry Escombe was more than right in his remarks, and that to keep pace with the time there could be no resting on your oars, but a constant search for, and acquisition of knowledge. On the road back to Algoa Bay my old coasting knowledge saved me some miles, for time was short to save daylight. She was doing fourteen knots, and I slipped along inside Bird Island with happy results. H.M.S. _Boadicea_ was there, and we resumed former acquaintance, but when sailing day came Admiral Salmon expressed a wish that we should not leave before midnight, as a ball was to take place and a young lady friend of his wished to see a little of it. He promised to put her on board by midnight, observing that mail steamer captains were only like “so many tame cats,” and as the agent was agreeable we stayed until that hour, when we left for the Cape. In the early hours of the morning, however, we had an accident. The strap of the high-pressure eccentric got hot and seized to the sheave, the result being a breakdown which might have been very considerably worse. This, however, was just one of those cases when my chief engineer was at his best. He hung up the end of the link with a piece of chain, and a screw to adjust its proper length, and in a short time was ready to proceed, but was not prepared under any conditions to turn the engines astern. We got into Table Bay the next evening, but had to creep in very cautiously to get the anchor down. We were visited from the shore, and arrangements were made to repair damages, we remaining in the bay until they were completed. This was dreadful; it meant delay in final loading and coaling, and also meant things being in a mess on sailing day. I went to bed considering the matter. Daybreak brought one of those beautiful fine mornings when it is a pleasure to be alive. I had had all night to think over the problem and had made up my mind as to what was the proper thing to do. I ordered steam to move, and sent for John Tyson, my chief. To him I said, “Get the stern anchor ready