a comfortable spot under the bob stay spread out with my feet on the boom chains. It happened that there was a beautiful moon half obscured by the mist clouds of Guadalcanal. It was quite fine watching the foam curl off the bow and the white water flashing to beam in the light of the moon. I actually fell asleep in this position, which had more motion in and about it than all the others. Thursday, October 6. (New Georgia). We arrived at Bili Village, an outpost of the Seven Day Mission, at the entrance to the Maravo Lagoon. We had come 120 miles in our twenty-four hour run. We took a fine anchorage at Bili and tucked in our first meal since yesterday noon. After munching heavily on all the grape nuts that were left in on the 'Awa' we went ashore to the sand beach and had a fine swim. Tate stole the only native canoe in the place for a half hour paddle which ended up in all of us capsizing. There are two very high peaks near Bili on New Georgia which spread up into the clouds. They make the place very beautiful, and as there was again a moon we were treated to another sentimental evening. I dropped my pocketbook with all the money I have in the world in it, and managed to jump overboard when the ship was about forty miles off shore and get the thing. Friday, October 7. (New Georgia). Spent the whole day steaming north in the long Maravo Lagoon. In the evening we arrived at Hameri on Ramata Island. It is a copra plantation owned by a man called Newell and his wife. He is not a very nice sort of a person. After a rather unpleasant career in the government at Tulagi he married this present Mrs. Newell, who is about twenty years older than he, evidently for her money. At least that is the gossip in the Solomons. Newell is a perfect type. All the outcast souls of the outcast Englishmen who have found they are unfitted for life