[Diary entry] May 2.  Latitude 1 degree 28 minutes N., longitude 111 degrees 38 minutes W. Another hot and sluggish day; at one time, however, the clouds promised wind, and there came a slight breeze —­just enough to keep us going.  The only thing to chronicle to-day is the quantities of fish about; nine bonitos were caught this forenoon, and some large albacores seen.  After dinner the first mate hooked a fellow which he could not hold, so he let the line go to the captain, who was on the bow.  He, holding on, brought the fish to with a jerk, and snap went the line, hook and all.  We also saw astern, swimming lazily after us, an enormous shark, which must have been nine or ten feet long.  We tried him with all sorts of lines and a piece of pork, but he declined to take hold.  I suppose he had appeased his appetite on the heads and other remains of the bonitos we had thrown overboard.

Next day’s entry records the disaster.  The three boats got away, retired to a short distance, and stopped.  The two injured ones were leaking badly; some of the men were kept busy baling, others patched the holes as well as they could.  The captain, the two passengers, and eleven men were in the long-boat, with a share of the provisions and water, and with no room to spare, for the boat was only twenty-one feet long, six wide, and three deep.  The chief mate and eight men were in one of the small boats, the second mate and seven men in the other.  The passengers had saved no clothing but what they had on, excepting their overcoats.  The ship, clothed in flame and sending up a vast column of black smoke into the sky, made a grand picture in the solitudes of the sea, and hour after hour the outcasts sat and watched it.  Meantime the captain ciphered on the immensity of the distance that stretched between him and the nearest available land, and then scaled the rations down to meet the emergency; half a biscuit for dinner; one biscuit and some canned meat for dinner; half a biscuit for tea; a few swallows of water for each meal.  And so hunger began to gnaw while the ship was still burning.

[Diary entry] May 4.  The ship burned all night very brightly, and hopes are that some ship has seen the light and is bearing down upon us.  None seen, however, this forenoon, so we have determined to go together north and a little west to some islands in 18 degrees or 19 degrees north latitude and 114 degrees to 115 degrees west longitude, hoping in the meantime to be picked up by some ship.  The ship sank suddenly at about 5 A.M.  We find the sun very hot and scorching, but all try to keep out of it as much as we can.

They did a quite natural thing now:  waited several hours for that possible ship that might have seen the light to work her slow way to them through the nearly dead calm.  Then they gave it up and set about their plans.  If you will look at the map you will say that their course could be easily decided.