After following the coast for a few miles further to the south I considered we were now far enough to windward to fetch somewhere near the centre of Perron's Peninsula; I therefore made sail and steered for that point.
ANOTHER GALE OF WIND.
Our passage across was a long and tedious one, and when at last towards evening we sighted Perron's Peninsula it was very evident that my boat would not do more than fetch the very northern point, but the other boat, which was a much better sailer, was nearly a mile to windward of us. The weather had been for the last hour or two very threatening, and we had reached to within two miles of the shore when the wind suddenly shifted to the south-west and began to blow a terrific gale. We had just time to down sail and take to the oars, and as every one of the crew saw that his life depended on it they gave way strenuously. We were under the lee of the Peninsula and had it not been for this circumstance must undoubtedly have been lost. That gale of wind was a terrible and magnificent sight. I stood at the steer oar; the waves lifted the boat each time nearly broadside on, and it was all I could do to bring her head round in time to meet the next sea, but the men pulled steadily. "Now men, give way for your lives," I called out if they flagged, and renewed energy was instantly infused into all of them. At times we could not hold our own against the wind and waves, and at the most favourable moments seemed merely to stand still. I looked at the shore until my eyes ached; but no nearer did it appear to be than at first, and gradually grew less distinct as the daylight faded. We could only see the other boat now and then; but although she was evidently in imminent peril they were much nearer in shore than we were. The danger we underwent on this occasion was great; but the excitement of so wild and grand a scene was highly pleasurable, and when success at last crowned our exertions, and we went dancing wildly in through the surf and spray upon a rocky unknown shore, and found the other crew on the beach ready to help us in hauling up, I felt that there is a charm attached to scenes like these which can only be fully estimated by those who have experienced it. Having in our turn assisted to haul up the other boat we lighted our fires and laid down for the night.
PERRON'S PENINSULA.
March 27.
This morning I found that all our hands were so fatigued by the exertions of the previous day that a few hours of comparative rest was absolutely necessary. I therefore directed them to stroll about the beach for an hour or two and to collect oysters or shellfish. The part of Perron's Peninsula which we were on consists of abrupt cliffs of the height of about two hundred feet; at the base of these and between them and the sea there is a narrow strip of sandy land and dunes, and at their summit is a barren sandy tableland, gently sloping away to the southward and appearing to extend throughout the whole length of the peninsula.
As soon as I thought the men were sufficiently rested we launched the boats, but on rounding the northern extremity of the peninsula met a heavy sea running from the southward and were obliged to take to the oars. We had not got more than two miles to the southward of Cape Leseuer when I saw so many indications of an approaching gale that I ran in again and beached the boats; and this operation was hardly accomplished ere it blew with terrific violence from the south-south-west. Both here and at our last night's encampment we saw numerous signs of natives, and now found several native wells in the sandhills, but had no occasion to use them as we had regular tropical rain for the rest of the day. The men here brought me the bones of a very large marine animal which they had found at the natives' fire, but I could not recognise them as belonging to any that I was acquainted with. At this period, from bad food and being constantly wet with salt water, we were all afflicted with sores of the most painful and annoying character, and these much increased the unpleasantness of our situation.
ANOTHER GALE.
March 28.
This morning the weather looked tolerably fine; I therefore ordered the boats to be launched and, after pulling a few miles to windward along Perron's Peninsula, we struck across for Dirk Hartog's Island; our former ill-luck however still attended us, for just as we were making the land another fearful gale from the south-south-west came on, and had we not had the good luck to have got under the lee of the Coin de Mire of the French we must infallibly have been wrecked; as it was we pulled along under this promontory and beached the boats in a little bay at its north-west extremity. Nothing but absolute necessity could however have induced me to take such a step, for the place was rocky and difficult of access, with a heavy surf breaking on the beach. The rain fell in torrents during the greater part of the evening, and the men spent the time in searching for oysters and shellfish with which to appease their hunger. The rain which had fallen during the last two days had a very injurious effect upon some of us, for, our clothes having been lost with the other things which were swept away from the depot during the hurricane of the first of March, we were very insufficiently clad.