Friday, October 18th, 1867

The anniversary of my dear husband’s birthday. Have just been celebrating it in champagne. Almost too much with the thermometer at 80 in the shadiest part of the ship. Wind better today, but a nasty head sea which almost pitches me off my char. No machine work today. Made to noon 153 miles. Twenty three days out today. If we had been on our regular track presume we should be in Liverpool by now.