deck one morning, and instantly recognized an old acquaintance.
Right ahead, looking nearer than I had ever seen it before, rose
the towering mass of Tristan d'Acunha, while farther away, but
still visible, lay Nightingale and Inaccessible Islands. Their
aspect was familiar, for I had sighted them on nearly every
voyage I had made round the Cape, but I had never seen them so
near as this. There was a good deal of excitement among us, and
no wonder. Such a break in the monotony of our lives as we were
about to have was enough to turn our heads. Afterwards, we
learned to view these matters in a more philosophic light; but
now, being new and galled by the yoke, it was a different thing.
Near as the island seemed, it was six hours before we got near
enough to distinguish objects on shore. I have seen the top of
Tristan peeping through a cloud nearly a hundred miles away, for
its height is tremendous. St. Helena looks a towering, scowling
mass when you approach it closely but Tristan d'Acunha is far
more imposing, its savage-looking cliffs seeming to sternly
forbid the venturesome voyager any nearer familiarity with their
frowning fastnesses. Long before we came within working distance
of the settlement, we were continually passing broad patches of
kelp (FUCUS GIGANTEA), whose great leaves and cable-laid stems
made quite reef-like breaks in the heaving waste of restless sea.
Very different indeed were these patches of marine growth from
the elegant wreaths of the Gulf-weed with which parts of the
North Atlantic are so thickly covered. Their colour was deep
brown, almost black is some cases, and the size of many of the
leaves amazing, being four to five feet long, by a foot wide,
with stalks as thick as one's arm. They have their origin around
these storm-beaten rocks, which lie scattered thinly over the
immense area of the Southern Ocean, whence they are torn, in