6. Van and I spent a large part of the morning in one of the forward gun tur- rets, to which we are given free access on account of our scientific need for ob- ervation. The sun was hot and strong and both of out faces are quite red from it. The temperature in the dining saloon this evening was 86 degrees and for the next week at lease it will get hotter. We are beginning to get better acquainted with some of our fellow passengers also, and at this stage of the game there is not much to write about save them, their activities and other such trivialities. For ex- ample there is the Rev. Weems, in our cabin; he spent the first two days in his bunk and explained to me that it was because he had worked so hard at digging post holes the day before our sailing that his stomach muscles strained and unable to retain any food. That's all right, and it's none of my business where the Rev. Weems spends his money, so to speak. But there is a Mrs. Weems and a young soné who is t ravelling with her. The boy calls for his father every morning when we are get- ting dressed. They go out together and a few minutes later Mrs. Weems comes barging into the cabin shrieking for her son. Wrapping ourselves in some sort of covering, we explain that he has gone out with his father; she looks us up and down to make certain that the soné and father are not hidden under whatever blanket or other cover- ing we have concealed our nakedness with, snorts and leaves. It happens every morning. We do not cross the date line until some time between Pago Pago and Suva. Capt. Johnsen says that the air mail service from Suva is more frequent than from Pago Pago but I think I shall mail this from the first port anyway. It will be two or three days before we reach Suva and I can make enquiries at the Post Office at Pago anyway. During the day we saw some flying fish, which prove that we are now in tropic waters. There have been albatross following the ship almost since the second day; and we had both albatrosses and gulls then but the gulls have dropped out of the race now. Our nearest land at the moment is the Hawaiian group, about five hundred miles away. Our day's run now is averaging something under 400 miles per day. Wednesday, 4 February 1948. The temperature in the dining saloon at breakfast time was 90 degrees but did not rise at all during the day, in fact was 88 at dinner time. There really is not much else of any importance to record during the past twentyfour hours. Deck sports started this afternoon and men and women in various stages of nudity have been running all over the ship. They do not quite realize the ferocity of a tropic sun, I think, and there will be some sore backs tomorrow. The food continues to be very good but not much else about the ship deserves and very favorable adjective. Time drags considerably and I am deeply indebted to the many people who gave me who-dun-its and crossword puzzle books. The small group with which Van and I spend most of our time does not constitute enough players to make up a bridge four. I think I can close this up and start a few letters for mailing when we reach Pago on the 10th. Thursday, 5 February 1948. Another hot day today, 91 degrees in the dining saloon, but there will be at lease another ten days of this and not much drop after that as it will ne warm in Sydney at this time of year. Then when we move up to the Cape, it will get warmer again and I might as well prepare myself now for the fact that it will not again be below 80 until I am practi- cally back in the U.S. again. Van was slightly under the weather this morning and did not get through his breakfast or lunch. Seems fairly fit again this evening and I judge it to be a slight touch of sun.