Later in the day I got together the whole crew, and told them, as they evidently thought there was some one in the ship, we would search from bow to stern. The first mate was angry. He said it was folly, and to yield to such foolish ideas would demoralise the men. He said he would keep them out of trouble with the handspike.

I let him take the helm, while the rest began a thorough search, all keeping abreast, with lanterns. We left no corner unsearched. As there were only the big wooden boxes, there were no odd corners where a man could hide. Men much relieved when search over, and went back to work cheerfully. First mate scowled, but said nothing.

22 July. Rough weather for the last three days, and all hands busy with sails, no time to be frightened. The men seem to have forgotten their dread. The mate is cheerful again, and all on good terms. Praised men for work in bad weather. Passed Gibraltar and out through Straits. All well.