Too risky--they might hang a body.

Set sail--middle of afternoon.
"And so on, and so on, and so forth, for several days.

Finally, anchored off Gibraltar, which looks familiar and home-like." It reminds me of the journal I opened with the New Year, once, when I was a boy and a confiding and a willing prey to those impossible schemes of reform which well-meaning old maids and grandmothers set for the feet of unwary youths at that season of the year--setting oversized tasks for them, which, necessarily failing, as infallibly weaken the boy's strength of will, diminish his confidence in himself and injure his chances of success in life.

Please accept of an extract: "Monday--Got up, washed, went to bed.
"Tuesday--Got up, washed, went to bed.
"Wednesday--Got up, washed, went to bed.
"Thursday--Got up, washed, went to bed.
"Friday--Got up, washed, went to bed.
"Next Friday--Got up, washed, went to bed.
"Friday fortnight--Got up, washed, went to bed.
"Following month--Got up, washed, went to bed." I stopped, then, discouraged.

Startling events appeared to be too rare, in my career, to render a diary necessary.