This process has long ceased to be of a pleasant character. The movements of the boat are such that existence down below in the closed-up compartments, aired only by the ventilator machines, is causing headache and sickness among the men; part of the crew are losing their appetites. Yet it is quite out of the question to remain on deck, which is continuously swept by the seas. It is somewhat drier on the conning-tower behind the shelter of the "bath-tank" and on the lee side of the tower, which is sheltered from the sea and wind. Here a few of the watch off duty are huddled together, holding fast to the rails, inhaling the fresh air and shaking themselves when a particularly heavy breaker rolls up round the conning-tower covering them in salt spray. Thus we travel on the whole day. A couple of steamers, whose smoke-clouds appear in the distance, we avoid above water by altering our course, after we have made out their route by careful sounding and observation. This sounds more difficult than it really is. You first of all make sure of the position of your own ship by soundings and calculations, after you have roughly estimated the position of the unknown vessel on the map. If the relative positions of these two are compared on the map with the most important steamer routes, it is possible to judge with some certainty the course the unknown ship must take. Such a calculation was soon to prove of great importance to us, and was in this case, as will be seen, of great significance. Towards evening it clears up slightly, and the sea grows calmer. The sun sets under brilliantly illuminated clouds in the west. All the watch off duty have come on deck to get some fresh air and smoke a hasty cigar or cigarette. Below deck smoking is strictly forbidden. The men are all huddled together on the sheltered side of the conning-tower, tightly packed and pressed against the wall. It is a strange sight, rather like a swarm of bees, this cluster of men in rough, heavy sea clothes. There is not much etiquette observed here; I know the men have no easy job down below there, and when one of them sticks his head through the tower hatch to draw a few puffs at his pipe, I gladly grant him the short respite. Moreover, all eyes are fixed unconsciously on the horizon, and this is a good thing. The more men there are to watch, the more can be observed, and many of our crew have the eyes of an eagle. Suddenly in the clear twilight of the June evening two masts appear in the distance on the port side; a funnel follows, and soon the hull of a steamer appears on the verge of the horizon. With the help of our excellent prismatic glasses we hold her steadily under observation, our object being to make out her course in order to steer clear of her. We have soon measured her distance, and I take up the map, compare, reckon, look at the vessel again, then pause bewildered. From the course she is following the steamer will never reach a port. Is it possible then?