At two o'clock we saw Diamond Head, the easternmost headland of Oahu,
rising from the sea. By four o'clock we were abreast of it, and
steaming along the coast. The cape itself rises grandly from the midst
of a grove of cocoa-nuts, and the shore all along, with the sharp high
mountains of the Pali as a background, is fine and picturesque. A
coral reef stretches far into the sea, and outside this we lay waiting
for a pilot to take us into Honolulu Harbour.

It was a long business mooring us by hawsers, from our stem and stern,
but we were at last safely secured in a convenient place, a short
distance from the shore, and where we should be refreshed by the sea
breeze and the land breeze alternately. It was six o'clock, and nearly
dark, when we reached the shore; the town seemed entirely deserted;
all the little wooden houses were shut up, and there were no lights
visible. The post-office was closed, but it was a terrible blow to
hear there were no letters for us, though we still hoped that there
might be some at the British Consulate.

After a short time we returned on board the yacht in time for a late
dinner. The first lieutenant of H.M.S. 'Fantôme' came on board to pay
us a visit during the evening, and told us all the latest English and
American news, lending us some files of English papers--a great treat,
but no compensation for our disappointment about the letters.

_Thursday, December 28th_.--Tom and I went ashore at seven o'clock to
make arrangements for repairing our mizen-sail. We soon found a
sailmaker, who promised to set all hands to work and complete the job
as quickly as possible. Being detained by a heavy shower of rain, we
occupied the time in a gossip about Honolulu and its sayings and
doings. When the shower was over, we walked through the town, which is