The water was very transparent, and the anchor could be plainly seen at seven fathoms depth. Fish and turtles were observed swimming about, and all the wonders of coral architecture were visible below. There was no vegetation on the islands except sea kale and a few stunted bushes and cactus. Birds were in abundance, and the whole surface of the island was covered with their nests, containing eggs and young birds in all stages of growth. The older birds were very tame and usually refused to leave the nests until pushed off.
Two days after the arrival of the Alabama was Christmas day, and the crew were given shore liberty. Captain Semmes makes this entry in his journal:
Christmas day, the second Christmas since we left our homes in the Sumter. Last year we were buffetting the storms of the North Atlantic near the Azores. Now we are snugly anchored in the Arcas; and how many eventful periods have passed in the interval. Our poor people have been terribly pressed in this wicked and ruthless war, and they have borne privations and sufferings which nothing but an intense patriotism could have sustained. They will live in history as a people worthy to be free, and future generations will be astonished at the folly and fanaticism, want of principle and wickedness, developed by this war among the Puritan population of the North; and in this class nine-tenths of the native population of the northern states may be placed, to such an extent has the "Plymouth Rock" leaven "leavened the whole loaf." A people so devoid of Christian charity, and wanting in so many of the essentials of honesty, cannot but be abandoned to their own folly by a just and benevolent God. Our crew is keeping Christmas by a run on shore, which they all seem to enjoy exceedingly. It is indeed very grateful to the senses to ramble about over even so confined a space as the Arcas, after tossing about at sea in a continual state of excitement for months. Yesterday was the first time I touched the shore since I left Liverpool on the 13th of August last, and I was only one week in Liverpool after a voyage of three weeks from the Bahamas, so that I have in fact been but one week on shore in five months. My thoughts naturally turn on this quiet Christmas day, in this lonely island, to my dear family. I can only hope, and trust them to the protection of a merciful Providence. The only sign of a holiday on board tonight is the usual "splicing of the main brace," _anglice_, giving Jack an extra allowance of grog.