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Wednesday, May 12, 1909
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Once again we record the passing of the cook. He got his bumps today. The old one, who was a really good cook whenever he wanted to be, finding himself unable to get a billet without a recommendation, and being properly penitent, came looking for his old job back. I've taken him on again, on his promise to be good. I hope to get an Arab from Aden soon, however, and then we are going to have one or two bubbly bubbly water dinners around this joint, I tell you. Just to show that we can do it when we want to.

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Thursday, May 13, 1909
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Butti and I took a nice sail over into Kilindini this afternoon. There was a nice breeze outside, and the Mdudu just slicked through the wet like a duck,- but considerably faster. The worst of sailing out here is that if you get turned over, and make for shore, first thing you know one of these here bloody sharks comes up alongside and swims off with your leg. That, you know, disturbs your equilibrium,- the one leg and one arm on one side, swimming against the one arm only on the other, makes you go 'round and 'round in a circle, until you are exhausted and then -, well, there you are, you know!