Wednesday. June 7th. Barque Sarah.
A half and half night and to the complete amazement of everybody awoke to find ourselves in a dead calm between Graciosa and San Jorge. Terceira in sight at our rear. We have drifted with the tide – a sapphire blue sea, San Jorge is very long and narrow and rugged near by. We have been in sight of Pico ever since we left St Michaels but have seemed to come no nearer to it. We have been betting as to when we shall get in – each of us taking two hours in the day – mine between 4.30 & 5.30. Mr Adams has taught me the names of the sails. Mr Sanisberry has been raising fun and mischief all day. He read [?] a Chinese Romance in rhymes read by Pauline Piston at the last Literary Club. It was quite bright[?] All calling to me to look out for a school of porpoises ahead. I never saw anything more beautiful than this blue, blue sea with these four misty, pink islands on the horizon – Pico beyond, San Jorge and Fayal just coming into view.
Later. Had a little talk with Mr Sanisberry this evening. He gave me advise about [?], which I was sorry to have needed but shall certainly take. He was in a perfect rage and seemed to know the gossip of the Sarah pretty thoroughly. Mr Townsend hurt his back playing match[?] games.