On Saturday, the 28th of February, 1835, about five o'clock in the evening, we left Scarborough Bay, and, as hidden rocks are numerous along the shore for a considerable distance, caution was necessary in steering to the westward. The gentle trade-wind drove us steadily along, and, as the current was also in our favour, we glided softly through the waters. As long as daylight served, the sailors amused themselves with catching king-fish; this they did with long lines cast out from the stern of the ship, and hooks baited with thin slices of fat pork. They appeared to be very plentiful, for frequently every hook was occupied, and I am sure there were more than a dozen lines in requisition. The run from one island to the other did not take more than an hour and a half, but the whole night was consumed in sailing along the northern shore of Trinidad. There was much thunder and lightning, and heavy showers of rain during the night; but when the sun rose on Sunday, the first of March, the scene which burst upon our wondering sight was one of the most sublime and beautiful in nature. We were close under the land, at the western extremity of the main island; in the foreground were bleak and barren rocks, undermined by hollow caverns, and clothed at their summits with all that luxuriance of flower and forest-tree which gives so much beauty and brilliancy to West Indian scenery.