Lehner, P. 1964 Nov. 24 Tuesday finally arrived, bringing with it a calm sea, a light easterly breeze and overcast sky; George and Ken had the first watch and collected what has tentatively been identified as a Kermadec Petrel (it was first thought to be a Herald's Petrel); Binion and I took the watch at 9:00 and 45 minutes later collected a White-necked Petrel - the crew is now beginning to feel we're losing a lot of valuable time by having to maneuver to pick up birds; we passed a long line of fish balls with cane poles and flags - they were strung out east and west and undoubtedly marked a fish net, but no ships could be seen: large swells came at us all morning from the northwest but were of long enough wave length that they did not slow us down; as birds became very scarce on the watch, I began focusing more of my attention on the flying fish that were appearing above the water in increasing numbers; their rapidly swishing tails can be heard when they leave the water close to the ship and their enlarged pectoral fins can be seen to quiver until they gain momentum; I remembered that Mr. Ashton had said he once spent a day timing them in their flight and found that they averaged 7 seconds out of water, the longest being 42 seconds; one could see the results of natural selection on these fish by noticing that the only ones leaving the water at any distance from the ship were large ones, i.e. one that had learned to flee at an unusual noise or sight and therefore survived; also, I noticed that the large ones very seldom stayed airborne in front of the ship, but dove instead, whereas the small ones would glide just in front of the bow; running the ship among these fish had produced an interesting phenomenon - although we can give the larger fish credit for nourishing an instinct which says leave the water and flee at an unusual sense reception, the question arises that since the ship is partly in the water and partly out, (over)