At Bounty Bay we rejoined those who were to embark in the same boat with us. Passing safely through the surf, we commenced our departure. After a short pull we got on board the Morayshire, and were kindly received by her commander. Now my vocation commenced in reality. Scarcely had we reached the ship, when women and children became sadly affected by the motion, although it was very fine weather; so placing them in the best positions, I hastened to the berth deck and got the beds into their places. But neither women nor children could remain in the berths; so we had to make a field bed on the deck; and as the boats came alongside and were discharged we laid the sea-sick community side by side, and did the best we could for their comfort. By four o'clock P.M. every person was on board, without any accident occurring; and the ship made sail with a fair breeze.
In the dusk of the evening Pitcairn Island receded from view, There were very few of the late inhabitants on deck to take a last long lingering look at the much-loved and ever-to-be-remembered spot; but very many men, women, and children wished themselves on shore again; for so intensely were they suffering from nausea, that, could they have regained the shore, they would most assuredly have remained there. During the whole night I was continually employed in attempting to relieve their sufferings; the few men who were not sick had to nurse the infants, and old Arthur Quintal, assisted occasionally by the captain and Lieutenant Gregorie, was employed in administering, under my direction, such remedies as seemed most appropriate. It was a comfortless and, to most of our people, a sleepless, night. For several days did this state of things continue; at length some of the convalescents began to appear on deck, which soon became studded with smiling faces.