I suppose. Just for the record, I shall try to draw a plan of our cabin and the one next to it. They have a common entrance and not a sign of a door anywhere in the place. Sunday, 1 February 1948. Yesterday's swell has ceased somewhat during the night and this morning the sea is very quiet. Everybody is out pretending that they are the best of sailors, impervious to anything the sea can offer. I omitted to sketch the cabin yesterday so here it is: Water Deck Ship's side Two berths, Van bottom Two berths, me top Washroom for twelve Two berths Entrance Corridor 101 103 Corridor Our cabin mates are not particularly interesting but one old Scotsman, re- cently retired, has just spent six months in California, is now about to spend six more in Sydney and then will continue around the rest of the world. Capt. Johansen arrived for dinner last night and is pretty much as Len described him; he is not a bit interested in his ship and is simply looking for the day when he can leave her. This, by the way, is the last run of the Marine Phoenix on this charter and her place is to be taken by the Aorangi, which carried me and the 2nd Medium Regt., R.C.A., from Halifax to Glasgow. The weather is distinctly hotter now than it was yesterday and tomorrow I shall discard my heavy clothing and get into slacks and sport shirts. The departure from San Francisco was my first experience with colored paper streamers from ship to shore. I was under the impression that it was done only at Honolulu but apparently it is an old west coast custom. The ship being still in her wartime grey, the colors were very effective besides being rather touching. A strip is such a tenuous thing on which to hang one's departing emotions. Now, with the advent of calmer seas and warmer weather, the decks are pretty crowded and practically everybody except Van and me has a portable radio. The only place we can get away from them has no seats but it is worth standing to have a pleasant silence. Neither Van nor I has reached the point of knowing anybody's name though we have been introduced to several, mainly the people at out table. I suppose as time passes we shall get to know them but so far have felt no urge to be on any better acquaintance. In a week the nearness of land will supply a little more excitement; we are due at Pago Pago on the 10th, Suva on the 13th, Auckland on the 16th and Sydney on the 20th. The short jumps between ports will keep us animated but I am feeling desperately the need of exercise as, as I always do, I am eating with gusto and in quantity. However, six weeks from now and there will be a very different story, I'm afraid. The sick lad in the bunk below me was in hospital for ten days before em- barking at San Francisco, he tells me, but has had a very nice trip, visiting England, Holland, Sweden, the U.S. and back to Australia. Somewhere along the line he heard of our expedition and broke records by being the only man who has not asked to join us. Last night there was a bingo game, in which I did not indulge, and today, Sunday, the daylight hours are filled with divine services of various kinds,