205 miles from nine thirty last night. We passed outside of the spit and to the eastward, leaving sight of land shortly after two o'clock. There were a great number of whales about us all day. Especially was this true in the neighborhood of the Cape where there existed a quantity of the brown marine insectivora which, floating on the water, constitutes the whales' food. We could see as many as four whales at one time. One or two would raise their flukes out of water and bring them violently with a great swish down again. This was done, I understand, in order to scratch off the small barnacles and other marine growths that attach themselves to the whales and pester them. Most of the beasts we saw were ambling along slowly on the surface, blowing, and lifting their flukes out of water in the regular manner with an air of great comfort and relaxation. The food on the 'Mataram', as well as the accomodations, crew, officers, stewards and daily routine is of the most highly informal a nature. Firemen attired in their shirt sleeves make themselves at home in the smoking room when they are not on watch; the chief mate shuffles around the ship in his slippers; underwear or less is the uniform for the seamen, and everything is gloriously dirty and unkempt. It is the spirit of the vessel asserting itself, for what can be expected of the crew of anything when it is only as large as a river tugboat and only half as fast. Spent the morning listening to the history of the mutiny of the 'Bounty', the fate of Captain Bligh, and the story of the founding of Pitcairn and Norfolk Island. There is a gentleman on board who is a native of Norfolk Island and a direct descendent of one of the mutineers. It seems that the crew of the 'Bounty' mutinied and lowered the officers over the side in the small boats.