From the shore we received a signal to ask if we had a clean bill of health, and soon after the officer commanding the station came off to visit us in a boat pulled by several hefty bluejackets. He announced that at the moment of our arrival an interesting and unusual event had taken place: the birth of a child. I learned from him that I could get what coal I required to take me on to St. Vincent. August 2nd was a rather muggy day. The ship was surrounded by thousands of fish of a dark purple colour with white patches on their tails. They rushed at anything edible that was thrown overboard, and the water was lashed into foam by their efforts to get at it. It was really a wonderful sight. They could not be induced to take a hook and fought very shy of anything with a line on it. Green, the enthusiast, tried all morning to catch some, but without success. He succeeded, however, by putting out more line, in catching a red spiny variety at a deeper level. He also caught a shark. I sent ashore the scientists, and later went myself with McIlroy and Macklin. On landing, Macklin saw an officer of marines to whom he said: “Your face is familiar to me. Where have I seen you before?” Apparently they had met somewhere in Russia. It was rather extraordinary meeting again in this out-of-the-way little spot in tropical mid-Atlantic. We went on to the “Club,” where we met several more officers of the station and a number of the Eastern Telegraph Company’s officials. The island is bare, sandy and desolate looking. The barracks and officers’ quarters are at sea level. The latter consist of neat little bungalows, about which some pretty blossom has been induced to grow. The troops and naval ratings wear solar topees, khaki shorts and shoes. Usually they have no stockings. The soldiers have khaki shirts, and the ratings white jumpers. There are a number of women on the island. They wear light cotton dresses and often have no stockings—a sane and healthy fashion for this part of the world. After lunch Macklin went off to see one of the sights of the island—the nesting-ground of the “Wideawakes.” He writes: