Driven to Bay, Volume I by Florence Marryat

With a light wind and a flowing sheet the _Pandora_, now more than a fortnight out, moved slowly through the water. Astern was the island of Madeira, standing like a huge rock in the sea, and various crafts on the deep blue waters looked, in the distance, like children's toys. Not a cloud was to be seen. The sky was as blue as the sea -- the air mild and pure.

The sun had become so oppressive that an awning was rigged over the after part of the vessel, and the passengers, having quite recovered their sea legs, were reclining on chairs and couches under its welcome shade. The occupiers of the second cabin were resting on the quarter-deck, sheltered by the cutters, which were kept in the chocks on the after-skids. Everything seemed peaceful and quiet aboard. A merry laugh from the girls, or the plaintive bleating of the sheep being the only sounds that broke the silence.