Sunday May 14th At Fayal. Horta
Another beast of a night though I slept quite well - even in my sleep I knew that everything on ship board was tossing up and down from one side to another. I heard Mrs Robertson groan, the Portuguese same, a door banging for hours and finally a big tarpaulin was thrown in our room. The men were calling to each other and in my dreams I heard Adams call out to the Cap't that we were drifting towards Pico, the worst possible thing to happen. We went around the island again in the night to get to windward and beat about all day until 4 o'c in the afternoon when to our astonishment we sailed in to port anchoring a half mile from Horta. The health board and Custom House officials came on board and then we packed up and were off. There is a little fort in the harbor that seems a caricature. We walked up the street to this Hotel a five minute walk, Grace was very much enchanted and could hardly have gotten along without Mr Wallach's assistance which was jeered at by Townsend & Co. She took her supper in the parlor and the rest of us went to the dining room and fairly gourmandised [sic]. Every thing was delicious. Most tender young chickens, beef steak, boiled eggs, delicious bread, milk toast, a kind of native cheese, unsalted butter, nespras, preserved jellies and cake, goats milk, good tea and coffee and excellent water. Clean beds are hard as on the Sarah - bare floors and rough furniture. As on ship board the "Chambermaids" are men, would be howling [?] in a dress suit. A great profusion of fruit everywhere and the host & hostess, Mr & Mrs Edwards lavish in their attentions. We took a little walk. Mr & Mrs Lee & I & noticed some very fine wrought iron brackets for the street lamps. The buildings are high and large. We are dreadfully tired and glad to go to bed.