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163
Symzonia: Voyage of Discovery
·
Captain Adam Seaborn
69
At
noon,
on
the
24th
of
December,
we
anchored
in
14
fathoms
water,
on
a
fine
sandy
bottom.
This
land,
out
of
gratitude
to
Capt.
Symmes
for
his
sublime
theory,
I
immediately
named
Symzonia.
The
coast
lay
about
S.
S.
W.
and
N.
N.
E.
In
the
roadstead
we
were
sheltered
from
all
winds
except
those
which
blew
directly
along
shore.
These
were
not
much
to
be
feared,
for
we
had
found
the
prevailing
W.
S.
W.
winds
to
blow
as
steady
as
a
trade
wind
for
several
days
without
any
gales
or
stormy
weather.
I
passed
an
hour
in
surveying
the
enchanting
scene
by
which
I
was
surrounded,
and
in
making
preparations
for
a
visit
to
the
inhabitants
of
this
internal
world.
I
shaved
my
beard
as
smooth
as
I
could,
put
on
my
best
go-ashore
clothes,
and
swung
my
hanger
by
my
side,
to
make
my
appearance
as
imposing
as
possible.
Here
a
difficulty
occurred.
I
wanted
an
officer
to
leave
in
charge
of
the
boat,
on
whose
firmness
and
discretion
I
could
rely
in
case
of
difficulty
with
the
natives.
I
could
not
take
Albicore,
without
leaving
Slim
in
command
of
the
Explorer,
which
was
not
to
be
thought
of.
I
would
not
take
Slim
with
me,
for
he
would
be
more
likely
to
contrive
some
way
to
get
my
throat
cut
out
of
sheer
malice,
than
to
use
prudent
measures
for
my
safety.
Will
Mackerel
was
so
hasty,
that
he
would
probably
shoot
the
natives
like
pigeons,
should
he
fancy
them
to
be
offering
any
offence
or
insult
to
his
commander.
I
therefore
determined
to
take
Jack
Whiffle,
ostensibly
to
act
as
cockswain,
with
six
of
my
best
men,
furnished
with
a
musket,
a
pair
of
pistols,
and
a
sabre
each.
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