north-east, close to a fresh land wind from the East-South-East, which
brought with it a very unpleasant warmth. As we approached Point Pearce,
the land of which, at nine o'clock, came in sight, the water deepened to
fifteen and eighteen fathoms. At half-past ten o'clock we were within
three miles of the point; when the wind died away, and from the ebbing
tide we very soon lost what we had gained during the morning; for there
was no anchoring ground fit to trust our only remaining anchor upon. At
noon we were about ten miles south-west from Point Pearce. The wind then
springing up from the south, sail was set, but the tide being adverse,
very little better than a north-east course was made good. Soon after
sunset, being three or four miles to the South-South-West of Point
Pearce, we tacked to the southward with the intention of steering on to
make what progress we could during the night.

The attempt was hazardous, as we were strangers to the part; but if some
little risk was not run we had no chance of penetrating. From fifteen
fathoms we deepened to twenty-one, but as quickly shoaled again to
fifteen, and then suddenly to seven fathoms, hard sand.

The cutter was then put about and we steered off North-West for six miles
and passed through several ripplings, occasioned by the tide flowing with
rapidity over a rocky and irregular bottom. After running the above
distance we again hauled to the wind, but had hardly trimmed sails before
we again suddenly shoaled from sixteen to seven fathoms. This was too
dangerous to persist in, and I gave up the attempt of venturing forward
during the night.

September 12.

The next morning the land was visible about Point Pearce, bearing