Day Twelve
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"The calm was still over us broken with a light breeze at intervals. The first thing this morning about 7 am I was repairing one of the backstays which got the protective covering of spun-yarn round it chafed off.
In the afternoon Bosun and I finished clearing the pump well and then tightened up the wind screens round the poop while the watch washed down decks fore and aft.
During the evening the sailmaker came to borrow a book. We lent him one of Nat Goulds and then he started to entertain us. He related several yarns and talked about books he had read and we had the tale in each book related very vividly. He then proceeded on to plays. Some wonders he had seen at the "Victorian" Theatre, Sydney and one other. He knew Maggie Moore quite well. He used to see her every morning as he went to his daily toil, she passing him on horseback or driving. He picked her whip up for her once. She was, he says, a fine actress, born in Sydney at the back of the University. He also gave us bits of her songs such as he could remember.
All hands were deeply grieved this afternoon as it was decided for humane reasons to end the Boson's cockatoo, Bill's life. It has been suffering from rheumatism, pip and I am afraid other complaints that its life became a burden to it. The method of its execution was decided to be strangulation. The ceremony took place at 3.30 this afternoon and was well attended. It died without a murmer and its remains were reverently cast to the keeping of the deep. Its sad existance now being ended I hope it is enjoying a happy and peaceful time in the Happy Hunting Ground. Amen. A dead calm prevailed for the rest of the day."