I was awake early and on deck at seven-thirty. The action of the sea did not prevent me from putting away a good breakfast. My room-mate wasn't with me but the other occupants of my table were friendly. They were an unbalanced pair. One was an elderly man about fifty-five and he had his grandson with him, a young man about nine. Grandpa was an Elk and although he was alone most of the trip he kept well organized. As a result I had the company of the grandson whenever he could find me.

After breakfast the young Elk and I did ten round trips around the boat. I don't know how far we walked but it was far enough. On starboard side we walked forward into the wind, requiring considerable effort. We went aft on the port side with the wind boosting us. It was the kind of a hike that was thoroughly enjoyable. The roll of the decks - salt spray - sharp wind and tossing ocean formed a wonderful setting for stretching the pedal extremities. We talked about model airplanes, school, trains, cities and ships. My young friend wanted to know if the log line ran back to San Francisco. I couldn't help myself - I had to tell him a yarn about the method of measuring the distance we traveled each day.

The story of the log line reminds me of the stories ship's officers unfold to gullible passengers who are too nosey. The palatial Malolo of the Matson Line, running to Honolulu, takes several hours longer on the trip to the mainland than on the outward voyage. The explanation offered me by her third officer was that it was uphill from Honolulu to San Francisco. He even argued about it.

After our walk, I read for a while on the boat deck and then did ten more trips around the promenade deck before going down to dinner. After dinner I wrote some letters home. I sent a ship's newspaper that misspelled my name as usual. For some reason I told my friends the ship's position at noon, latitude 43 26', longitude 124 58', 388 miles from San Francisco and 424 miles to Seattle, average speed 20.95 knots. The letters with all this information would be mailed in Seattle Monday morning and probably be received Wednesday. I wonder if it was interesting to read at a time when the recipients knew that I was in Vancouver.

The afternoon passed without anything unusual taking place. At dinner Sunday evening I met several very nice people from Los Angeles. The outstanding fact to come to my attention was the existence of numerous diamonds upon the persons of my fellow travellers. I was traveling in wealthy company.

The evening was quiet and every one was taking the trip in a peaceful manner. For a time I was again alone and a bright idea manifested itself. The cigar stand provided me with a deck of cards and I scouted the lounge for victims. I spotted an unoccupied table adjacent to a table occupied by three girls who were playing cards. I established myself at the empty table and started to lay out a hand of solitaire. Before I got my game started one of the girls invited me to play a game of cards with them. Now, my only card game is solitaire and they proposed bridge. I was brave and agreed to let them give me a lesson. When I tried to back out they insisted that I try my luck and we had a pleasant evening. I did not learn the complete identities of my new friends - one was a young girl about sixteen, named Grace, her older friend's name was Edna, and the third girl was a Miss Tilden, advertising manager for Magnin's at Seattle.

After about an hour and a half of cards the girls learned all about my proposed trip and they fell to advising me. They drew me a map of Seattle and told me how to get around town. Edna also furnished some good suggestions regarding the trip to Skagway. Their information was very helpful to me.

I had the last dance with Edna. It was a waltz and the roll of the boat complicated our steps. It was lots of fun though. My room-mate has not shown himself today. He met an elderly lady friend who seems to be quite entertaining. He has forgotten to be "ill."

Before retiring at eleven-forty I made a few notes in my diary. My recollection of the day's events brought to mind the beautiful deep blue color of the ocean. We were over a hundred miles off shore and it seemed like we were crossing the ocean. The churning of the twin screws formed fascinating figures in the colorful sea and I was attracted many times to the stern of the boat.