"We thought then our troubles were over, but not so. Well, the anchor is dropped; and the captain, who has been up all night, hoarse with bawling and swearing, goes down below to sleep. You go below also to get breakfast, and find that the steward does not consider himself bound to serve the passengers with clean cups any longer. On being remonstrated with, his answer will probably be, 'You may go to the devil.' Well, it is no use kicking against the pricks; therefore help yourself, and go to the cookhouse for hot water, and get everything requisite for breakfast. The talk then begins in the forenoon—after all the beauties of the bay have been pointed out over and over again, until you are absolutely sick of them—the cry then is, 'Where is the pilot?' The answer from some one is, 'Oh, all those ships are to go up the bay before us, and we must wait our turn. It may be a week before we get up yet.' Day draws on, but no pilot. Next morning no pilot; still dirty plates, and the steward grown more insolent. In the afternoon the pilot comes on board. He says, 'The wind is against us, we may lie here a week.' All next day the wind is against us, but the following day a breeze springs up, the sails are spread out to the breeze, a man is placed in the chains to heave the lead, and off we go. In the afternoon we reach Hobson's Bay, still a part of Port Phillip, but a different creek. Well, the anchor is again dropped, the pilot leaves the ship, and another is added to the 150 ships at anchor in the bay. We are still eight miles from Melbourne, which lies on the Yarra Yarra. The cry then is, 'When shall we get ashore?' 'Oh,' replies one, 'the inspector must come on board first, and the captain must go on shore to deliver up his papers, and a lighter or steamer must be engaged to take us up.' Well, in two days no steamer or lighter appeared: and Mr. W and I went off with a steamer that was plying about among the shipping, and paid 5s. each for a sail of eight miles. We reached Melbourne. We asked where a house was to be had. The reply was, 'There are no houses to let in Melbourne.' Lodgings we could have got at £2 each a week, but that we did not want. All that day we walked through the town searching for a house, but found none. We returned to the ship, and paid 7s. each for another sail. We came on shore next day for 2s. 6d., walked all day, and again failed in our object; but that night we stayed in an inn on shore, and next morning we had the pleasure of securing a wooden erection, miscalled a house, of two rooms, at the moderate rent of £1 per week. Joyfully we returned to the ship, expecting that a lighter would be alongside to take our luggage and our wives to the house we had rented; but, alas for the courtesy and attention of our captain! no such comfort awaited
