the Java surrendered to the Spray .
The acute pain of solitude experienced at first never returned. I had penetrated a mystery, and, by the way, I had sailed through a fog. I had met Neptune in his wrath, but he found that I had not treated him with contempt, and so he suffered me to go on and explore.
In the log for July 18 there is this entry: “Fine weather, wind south-southwest. Porpoises gamboling all about. The S.S. Olympia passed at 11:30 a.m. , long. W. 34° 50′.”
“It lacks now three minutes of the half-hour,” shouted the captain, as he gave me the longitude and the time. I admired the businesslike air of the Olympia ; but I have the feeling still that the captain was just a little too precise in his reckoning. That may be all well enough, however, where there is plenty of sea-room. But overconfidence, I believe, was the cause of the disaster to the liner Atlantic , and many more like her. The captain knew too well where he was. There were no porpoises at all skipping along with the Olympia ! Porpoises always prefer sailing-ships. The captain was a young man, I observed, and had before him, I hope, a good record.