Capt. don’t feel very amiable on account of the weather. Ship scarcely moving through the water, fears we are going to have a long passage. Everything goes ahead of this kind of weather. Distance to noon 100 miles. Read considerable and then retired at 9 p.m. Such lovely moonlight nights it seems a pity to go to bed, but I scarce get any sleep after four o’clock. They commence every morn at five to wash the decks. Coffee at 6 – up to dress at a quarter past.

Weather still continues hot. Two weeks out today. Made to noon 108 miles. Not made so much as I anticipated on account of the head sea causing her to dive some.

Quite an improvement in the weather, ship going 7 knots, something she has not done for several days. Made to noon 100 miles. Done a good day’s work on the machine.

Commences another fine day but head wind. This afternoon calm. 8 p.m. beginning of a light air. At noon 125 miles, not exactly our right course. One of the men caught me a fish so I presume I shall have it for my breakfast. It looks much like our porquis, but don’t happen to be one. Any way it’s fish, which is always acceptable to us.

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.

Went over the farm this morn with Commodore Hill for my escort. Found the sheep, lams, goat and 8 pigs looking remarkably well and happy, so clean and comfortable. The chickens are the finest we have ever had. The ice keeps up well so we have considerable fresh meat in the ice house yet, besides giving mariners a fresh mess every Sunday. This has been the smallest day’s work yet, only 27 miles.

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.

Busily employed fixing up the old thin dresses. Weather hot enough to go without clothing if it was only the fashion. Our health, thank God, so far is good. Made 71 miles.

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.