The Master, Captain F. Chrimes, was a Lancashire man, of rather striking personality and appearance. Some writer, who had travelled on the ship as a passenger, has already portrayed him in one of his published books. Captain Chrimes admired the men and, although in his official and daily inspections he assumed an air almost of indifference to what he saw, he was really closely observant and suggested much--and did more--to make the conditions of life on board less uncomfortable. In quiet hours he chatted deferentially with the Brigadier, played chess with the doctors, or gently "pulled the legs" of the young officers. Of stories, he had a fund. These ranged from stirring personal experiences with lions in the East African jungles to a pathetic incident connected with the death of his family's favourite cat. As a mark of affection, the corpse of this cat was buried in the garden at the foot of an old grape vine. In the first subsequent crop of fruit--so the Captain related--each grape appeared with a slight coat of fur! On the whole the voyage was pleasant enough and almost without unusual incident, bar an accident or two to individuals. Perfect good feeling existed amongst the different units during the whole of the journey. Many friendships were made, and these early associations proved of great value later on during the stress of work in the field. For the first few days out wireless communication was kept up with the S.S. "Geelong." The equator was crossed on about the twelfth day but, at the expressed wish of the Brigadier, King Neptune held no court. Early on the 24th June the African coast, just south of Ras-Jard-Hafun, was sighted. Near here was observed the first ship seen since leaving Australia. A few dhows were visible close in shore, and in the bay sharks and rays could be discerned in motion. For a few hours attention was centred on this first glimpse of a foreign land. "The doctor has left off vaccinating us to go and admire the scenery," said one man in a letter home. The foreshore, cliffs, and mountains of Somaliland were searched with glasses for signs of habitations. So desolate, however, appeared the country, and so few the signs of life, that, as a diversion, the men cheered whenever an occasional school of porpoises or a solitary albatross came more closely under view. Cape Guardafui was passed soon after lunch, and the following evening the ship stopped her engines for half an hour in order to exchange messages with Aden, which was dimly visible through the thick bluish haze of stifling heat.