While our voyage had been a successful one, our outfits were not all exhausted; we had material enough for the capture of a few more sperm whales provided we could see them. The captain, however, was anxious to reach home, and orders were no longer given to shorten sail at night. So the old _Seabird_ made pretty good time for a vessel of her type. There was not a member of the crew who had not heard of Pitcairn, and one had visited the spot, and he was loud in his praises of it and the people. This was before the departure to Norfolk in the early fifties of the last century. He told us of the kindness of the Pitcairners, of the noble bearing of the men and of the beauty and kindness of the women. “I took a great fancy to two of them—John and Ruth Quintail,” he said. “They were grandchildren of one of the mutineers. John was twenty and Ruth eighteen. They did everything they could do for a common sailor like me. They were both pretty religious like most of the people, but they were full of fun. They could swim like ducks, and while I was there Ruth swam round the island. She used to wear an orange blossom in her beautiful hair. Our American girls are called fair, but she was the fairest girl I have ever seen. I suppose Ruth and John are at Norfolk Island now and will never go back to Pitcairn.” Our interest constantly deepened, and I think that even the staidest old tars were as expectant as if they had been boys. There are no coral reefs around Pitcairn; it is of volcanic origin and is sometimes likened to a rock rising out of the ocean. It is only two and a half miles in length, and a mile in width. It was about midday when we caught sight of it. While the ocean seemed rather calm, yet as we drew near I noticed what I had already read, that the waves dashed fiercely against it. There was only one place suitable for landing, and even then a boat had to be skilfully managed in order to avoid disaster. When not far from shore the ship was hove to, and then a white flag was displayed which told that they saw us and that we were welcome. Soon a boat put out and, as it came alongside, I noticed that it was a dugout. One of the two occupants was particularly interesting to me. As he moved about the deck he caught sight of me and, approaching, said: “You and I must be of about the same age. I am sixteen and my name is James Russell.” He was so pleasant and unassuming that I could not help saying to myself that he would never make a sailor. Our visitors extended to the captain a cordial invitation to visit the island and assured him of a warm welcome. Of course this was intended to include officers and crew. The captain made fitting acknowledgment, rather unusual for one generally so abrupt, and replied that on the morrow there would be shore leave for all except the few required to manage the ship.