After supper the sailors lighted their pipes, (cigars, those
of us who had them,) and we had to tell all we had seen ashore.
Then followed conjectures about the people ashore, the length of
the voyage, carrying hides, etc., until eight bells, when all hands
were called aft, and the "anchor watch" set. We were to stand two
in a watch, and as the nights were pretty long, two hours were to
make a watch. The second mate was to keep the deck until eight
o'clock, and all hands were to be called at daybreak, and the word
was passed to keep a bright look-out, and to call the mate if it
should come on to blow from the south-east. We had also orders
to strike the bells every half-hour through the night, as at sea.
My watchmate was John, the Swedish sailor, and we stood from
twelve to two, he walking the larboard side, and I the starboard.
At daylight all hands were called, and we went through the usual
process of washing down, swabbing, etc., and got breakfast at
eight o'clock. In the course of the forenoon, a boat went aboard
of the Ayacucho and brought off a quarter of beef, which made us
a fresh bite for dinner. This we were glad enough to have, and the
mate told us that we should live upon fresh beef while we were on
the coast, as it was cheaper here than the salt. While at dinner,
the cook called, "Sail ho!" and coming on deck, we saw two sails
coming round the point. One was a large ship under top-gallant
sails, and the other a small hermaphrodite brig. They both backed
their topsails and sent boats aboard of us. The ship's colors had
puzzled us, and we found that she was from Genoa, with an assorted
cargo, and was trading on the coast. She filled away again, and stood
out; being bound up the coast to San Francisco. The crew of the
brig's boat were Sandwich Islanders, but one of them, who spoke a
little English, told us that she was the Loriotte, Captain Nye,
from Oahu, and was engaged in this trade. She was a lump of a thing