This made work for about one day.

Some stowaways were found and put down into the hole to heave coal.

One day the Captain and mate were out taking an observation on the sun when a young Missourian stepped up to see what was being done, and said to the Captain:--"Captain, don't you think I could learn how to do that kind of business ?" The Captain took the young man's hand and looked at his nails which were very rough and dirty and said:--"No my lad; boys with such finger nails can't learn navigation." This made a big laugh at the brave lubber's expense.
Many of the sea-sick ones did not get up so soon, and some died of that, or something else, and their bodies were sewed up in blankets with a bushel of coal at their feet to sink them, and thrown overboard.

The bodies were laid out on a plank at the ship's side, the Captain would read a very brief service, and the sailors would, at the appropriate time, raise the end of the plank so that the body slid off and went down out of sight in a moment.
In due time we went into the harbor of Acapulco for water and coal.

Here nearly every one went on shore, and as there was no wharf for the vessel to lie to, the native canoes had many passengers at a dollar apiece for passage money.