s we were leaving, and to hope for a quick and
prosperous voyage; then, when the wind was favourable, its health was
drunk, with the request that it would remain so; when it was contrary,
with the request that it would change; when we saw land, we saluted it
with a glass of wine, or perhaps with several, but I was too ill to
count; when we lost sight of it, we drank a farewell glass to its health:
so that every day brought with it three or four distinct and separate
occasions for drinking wine. {21}

The sailors drank tea-water without sugar every morning and evening, with
the addition of a glass of brandy; for dinner they had pease, beans,
barley, or potatoes, with salted cod, bacon, "or junk;" good sea-biscuit
they could get whenever they chose.

The diet is not the worst part of these poor people's hardships. Their
life may be called a continual fight against the elements; for it is
precisely during the most dreadful storms, with rain and piercing cold,
that they have to be continually upon deck. I could not sufficiently
admire the coolness, or rather the cheerfulness and alacrity with which
they fulfilled their onerous duties. And what reward have they? Scanty
pay, for food the diet I have just described, and for their
sleeping-place the smallest and most inconvenient part of the ship, a
dark place frequently infested with vermin, and smelling offensively from
being likewise used as a receptacle for oil-colours, varnish, tar,
salt-fish, &c. &c.

To be cheerful in the midst of all this requires a very quiet and
contented mind. That the Danish sailors are contented, I had many
opportunities of observing during the voyage of which I am speaking, and
on several other occasions.

But after all this long description, it is high time that I should return
to the journey itself.

The favourable gale which had thus wafted us to the coast of Iceland
within seven days, now unfortunately changed its direction, and drove us
back. We drifted about in the storm-tost ocean, and many a Spanish wave
{22} broke completely over our ship. Twice we attempted to approach the
Westmann Islands {23} (a group belonging to Iceland) to watch an
opportunity of casting anchor, and setting ashore our fellow-traveller
Herr Bruge; but it was in vain, we were driven back each time. At
length, at the close of the eleventh day, we reached Havenfiord, a very
good harbour, distant nine miles from Reikjavik, the capital of Iceland.

In spite