On our way from Manila the Captain invited me to go down with him to
the knight head, at the foot of the bowsprit, where you may extemporize
a good seat protected with ropes. There you have a good view of the
ship, and, taking the foremast for a guide, can learn the names of the
different sails, see the arrangement of the jibs, and, leaning over,
watch the cutwater dividing the billows, throwing up sheets of foam,
the spray saluting you as often as the ship buries herself in a huge
wave. We indulged ourselves in some mathematical calculations as to
the bulk of water displaced by the ship as she floated, with several
problems adjacent. This ship is two hundred and ten feet long. Malone
Block, in Boston, where we formerly lived, has six dwellings, each
twenty-three feet long, making the block a hundred and thirty-eight
feet, so that the ship is once and a half the length of that block! We
did much ciphering on the wood work, which may not have escaped the
paint brush, or the constant wear from the weather. If it survives, a
reader may find there some curious calculations in the mensuration of
solids.