We now stopped before Bonanza: this is, properly speaking, the port of San Lucar, although it is half a league distant from the latter place. It is called Bonanza on account of its good anchorage, and its being secured from the boisterous winds of the ocean; its literal meaning is “fair weather.” {273} It consists of several large white buildings, principally government store-houses, and is inhabited by the coastguard, dependents on the custom-house, and a few fishermen. A boat came off to receive those passengers whose destination was San Lucar, and to bring on board about half a dozen who were bound for Cadiz: I entered with the rest. A young Spaniard of very diminutive stature addressed some questions to me in French as to what I thought of the scenery and climate of Andalusia. I replied that I admired both, which evidently gave him great pleasure. The boatman now came demanding two _reals_ for conveying me on shore. I had no small money, and offered him a dollar to change. He said that it was impossible. I asked him what was to be done: whereupon he replied, uncivilly, that he knew not, but could not lose time, and expected to be paid instantly. The young Spaniard, observing my embarrassment, took out two _reals_ and paid the fellow. I thanked him heartily for this act of civility, for which I felt really grateful; as there are few situations more unpleasant than to be in a crowd in want of change, whilst you are importuned by people for payment. A loose character once told me that it was far preferable to be without money at all, as you then knew what course to take. I subsequently met the young Spaniard at Cadiz, and repaid him, with thanks.