We make twelve pitches to the minute, and
the poor cable must feel very sea-sick by this time. We are quite
unable to do anything, and continue riding at anchor in one
thousand fathoms, the engines going constantly so as to keep the
ship's bows up to the cable, which by this means hangs nearly
vertical and sustains no strain but that caused by its own weight
and the pitching of the vessel. We were all up at four, but the
weather entirely forbade work for to-day, so some went to bed and
most lay down, making up our leeway as we nautically term our loss
of sleep. I must say Liddell is a fine fellow and keeps his
patience and temper wonderfully; and yet how he does fret and fume
about trifles at home! This wind has blown now for 36 hours, and
yet we have telegrams from Bona to say the sea there is as calm as
a mirror. It makes one laugh to remember one is still tied to the
shore. Click, click, click, the pecker is at work: I wonder what
Herr P- says to Herr L-, - tests, tests, tests, nothing more. This
will be a very anxious day.
'June 14.
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