Another change in the weather. Last night our room felt like an oven. At 4 a.m. I was glad to draw the bedclothes over me, windows all shut and raining. At 9 a.m. had a conversation with a Brig called the Wanderer from Virginia, bound to Rio Janeiro, fifty days out – so he is worse off than us. We see plenty of vessels in this part of the ocean but none except ourselves bound to Cal. Another vessel on the lee side hoisting his flags to us but he is too far off for us to distinguish them.

The last two days we made so little progress I did not think it worth noting. However we have a fair wind now, going seven and a half knots, sometimes eight. I only hope it may continue so we may make up some of our lost time. We are now fifty one days out, ought to hav been as far along in about thirty five. Our Brig that we met with on Tues., the Wanderer, has been in company with us ever since – until now he has just steered off about his business.

I have had neuralgia in my shoulder the last three days so I could with difficulty comb out my hair. Husband says I have been working too hard on the machine. With this exception, my health has been pretty good so far. I presume I took cold standing on deck in a thin jacket, we were too busy telegraphing I could not spare the time to come down for a shawl. Up to noon made 80 miles. If we keep this breeze all night we shall tell up considerable in the reckoning tomorrow. The bell rings for tea so I must close for the present.

Been going nine knots all night. 10 a.m. looks now rather gloomy, only going four knots. Slight rain, wind dying away up to Rio Janeiro about eighty miles off the land.

There is a beautiful land bird flying around the ship with a red topknot. They are trying to catch it for me. Mr. Mason says it is a South American nightingale. They have not succeeded.

No sun today. Made 199 miles, the best day’s work since we came out.

It is raining fast. Past Rio. We have been depending on trade winds but up to this time we have had none. The wind is now ahead and we are looking out for a Pampero, or otherwise a furious gale very prevalent in this vicinity. A hog to be slaughtered this afternoon. How my mouth waters for the mock turtle, but of that tomorrow.

Escaped the pampero that we were expecting, I presume we got the rain instead of wind. Nearly fair going now, about six knots. Made to noon 79 miles. There has been a disagreeable head sea all day or we should be going now 7 or 8 knots. Notwithstanding the hot weather the Capt. has increased considerable in weight. As we have no scales large enough to weigh him, I can’t say how much. His health so far has been very good only when we have a calm or head wind. Still I trust we shall not be much behind time.

The weather is considerable cooler although hot enough in the sun. The therm. yesterday and today 69, 70.

A lovely day for the washing, getting along slowly made 120 miles. Therm this morn. 64. The weather is now eighteen degrees colder than it was ten days ago, the days increasing all the time. We are now about two thousand and sixty miles from Cape Horn, which is considered about half way. Been making preparations for the weather getting into the stormy regions. Been a busy day on deck, all hands employed fixing the head of the foremast or lashing it I believe is the mariner’s frazology for it. I presume the mischief was done in the Equinoctial gale we encountered on the 29th. And 30th. Sept. and pitching into the head seas as we have done ever since. Our reckoning today amounts to 109 miles. Eight weeks tomorrow since we left N. York.

There is something in this air that plays the mischief with the clothing. I have to keep turning them over and wiping, brushing and sponging, otherwise they would not be fit to wear. Our gloves are all spotted, neither husband or I have a pair but what is all over red spots. Indeed I have had quite a busy day myself. My boots that were at the bottom of a trunk were all mouldy when I took them out. It is now 9.30 p.m. we are going 8 knots, the sea is so smooth I can scarce feel her move. I am very tired so good-night.

Was sick in bed most of yesterday so made no note of proceedings. Made 107 miles yesterday, today 103. Going along nicely this afternoon, fine beautiful day, smooth sea and a nice fresh breeze. Tried to do some work on the machine but neuralgia in my head prevented me.

Made 144 miles. Looked very much like a storm but has blown over. A Bark and Brig in sight but I dare not venture on deck to see them on account of my neuralgia. I can scarce conceive it is Nov – a quite good daylight now at 7 o’clock and daylight at half past four in the morn. This delightful weather adds much to our lengthy passage, the time don’t appear half so long. Capt. says who would ever have thought I’d go to California. He is quite reconciled to it and looks remarkably well notwithstanding.

Made 136 miles. Exchanged signals with a nice little Eng. Brig from Exeter Eng. Bound to the Falkland Islands with his wife on board. We have been out on deck taking an obsquintal view of each other.

This day 154 miles with Sunday at sea. About eighty miles from land called Uruguay. Weather still cooler so that I am able to wear a thick dress now. Likely by next Sund. We shall have it cool enough for a fire. We have been looking out again for pamperos or any other kind of gales, but up to this time thank God we have escaped. My neuralgia is better today so I hope it may continue, for I lost nearly the whole of last week. I must make up some of it this.

2 p.m. Dined today of roast lamb and green peas mint sauce plum pudding, etc.

7.15 p.m. just come down off deck after watching the sun set, and such a lovely sunset, I was so carried away with its beauties I for a time could fancy myself in another world. There was a beautiful pale green sky with a rich gold border with golden wheat scattered over it and some tied up in bundles. How I did wish that some of our friends were there to enjoy the scene with me. The rays of the sun shining upon it was truly a magnificent sight.