We left the road of Santa Cruz on the 25th of June, and directed
our course towards South America. We soon lost sight of the Canary
Islands, the lofty mountains of which were covered with a reddish
vapour. The Peak alone appeared from time to time, as at intervals
the wind dispersed the clouds that enveloped the Piton. We felt,
for the first time, how strong are the impressions left on the mind
from the aspect of those countries situated on the limits of the
torrid zone, where nature appears at once so rich, so various, and
so majestic. Our stay at Teneriffe had been very short, and yet we
withdrew from the island as if it had long been our home.
Our passage from Santa Cruz to Cumana, the most eastern part of the
New Continent, was very fine. We cut the tropic of Cancer on the
27th; and though the Pizarro was not a very fast sailer, we made,
in twenty days, the nine hundred leagues, which separate the coast
of Africa from that of the New Continent. We passed fifty leagues
west of Cape Bojador, Cape Blanco, and the Cape Verd islands. A few
land birds, which had been driven to sea by the impetuosity of the
wind followed us for several days.
The latitude diminished rapidly, from the parallel of Madeira to
the tropic. When we reached the zone where the trade-winds are
constant, we crossed the ocean from east to west, on a calm sea,
which the Spanish sailors call the Ladies' Gulf, el Golfo de las
Damas.
