After rounding Oho Sima, we stood into the land, and during the day ran in full sight of the shores of Niphon, running northward from the entrance of the bay of Yedo. The fields of barley, just assuming its yellow dress, were spread out as far as the vision extended inland. Both ships stopped at intervals to make soundings. At one time, when we had stopped for this purpose, and got bottom, at twenty-eight fathoms, on what is called an “over-fall,” the opposition of current and wind made a “chow-chow” sea, which swashed over our rail, while the fine buoyant sea-boats of Japanese fishermen around, danced dryly like ducks.

This day, I think it was, marked what may be considered a new item in the history of typography. We had on board one of the little engines, which from the days of Faustus have evolved more power, than the ponderous ones, that revolved our paddles, and by its aid, in a sea-way, an intelligent midshipman, familiar with the art preservative of arts, “wet sheets,” and printer’s ink, caused to be struck off copies of the commodore’s correspondence with the Japanese, and of the surveys of Lieutenant Maury. That little press deserves a place in the patent-office, near the one, from which came “Poor Richard’s Almanack.”

After a run of three days, standing in for the shore during the day, and off during the night, making soundings at intervals, seeing an occasional school of whales, and our daily observations and reckonings showing a strong current in our favor, going to prove—what has been advanced by many—the existence of a continuous current on the coast of Japan, similar in character and direction to the Gulf stream on our coast, we made the entrance to the straits of Sangar. The land on either side was quite notable. That on the northern or island of Yeso side, bold and sharply defined, while a singular conformation on the Niphon or southern side, looked exactly the profile of the Leviathans that frequent the waters in its vicinity—“wery like a whale.” On entering we found a strong eastwardly tide running through and against us. By sundown we had run some distance in, under the high shores of the northern side, when it came on thick, and the heads of both steamers were put outward. We had made during the day a point of longitude further to the east than any, that we had reached since leaving the United States. Soundings were made every fifteen minutes during the night, and daylight found us enveloped in one of the dense fogs, from which the Japanese empire in this section, according to Golownin, is seldom free during the entire year. Both ships had to announce their proximity for some hours, to one another, by the use of their steam-whistles and the striking of their bells. When the fog lifted on the morning of the 17th, we found that the tidal current during the night, had set us in, rather than out, and holding on westwardly for a short time, we discovered over a low peninsula nearly ahead, described by the Russian captain Ricord, in his voyages for the liberation of Golownin, the Macedonian, Vandalia, and Southampton, at anchor inside of the harbor of Hakodadi. We soon rounded a high promontory, and stood into a magnificent bay. The distance we had run from Simoda was six hundred and nine miles. About 11 o’clock we anchored within gun-shot of the town; it may be near the spot, where forty-one years before lay the imperial Russian brig Diana, to procure the release from an imprisonment in stockade cages of three years, of her former commander and his companions, by the Japanese—after three voyages, in which she was successful.

The temperature, on our arrival, we found very materially different from what we had left at Simoda; the difference of latitude is about seven degrees. The snow still lay on the mountains around, and the air made thick boots and an overcoat comfortable.

The bay of Hakodadi is most spacious and majestic in its sweep, and for facility of entrance and security of anchorage, it can scarcely be surpassed by any other in the world. The width at its mouth is so great that no two fortifications could command or protect it, yet the curvature of the high land around is such as to afford the greatest shelter. For all the uses of Americans it is worth fifty Simodas; here our enterprising whalers, after being buffeted about in the rude seas of Ochotsk and Japan in its vicinity, may ere long repair to recruit and refit, and procure supplies of wood and water, instead of being compelled as hitherto, to make the long stretch to the Sandwich Islands. Besides this, a line drawn on the arc of a great circle from California to North China, passes through the straits of Sangar and by Hakodadi; and here, and not at Simoda, which has been mentioned as a depot, would coal have to be placed for the use of steamers between San Francisco and Shanghae.

It was agreed by all the old Mediterranean cruisers aboard, as we dropped anchor, that the view around was the counterpart of Gibraltar and its vicinity. The northern side from where we lay was the main land of Spain; the low sandy peninsula, over which we could easily see the water of Sangar, was the “neutral ground,” encircling Smugglers’ bay; on our left hand lay a small fishing-village, which corresponded to the Spanish town of Algeciras. The southern part of the hill under which the town is, was Point Europa; the hill itself, in its high and rugged isolation, was the frowning rock that enclosed the sulphurous engines, while in the distance, across the straits, on the north end of Niphon, now well discerned, or vaguely seen, as the sun shines out or the mists vary, is the natural prototype of Ape’s hill, in Africa, whose simial inhabitants are said to find their way most mysteriously across the Mediterranean. To my eye, the place bore a great resemblance to Cape Town, Cape of Good Hope, if the mount in the rear were little more flattened on the summit, while an adjoining hill was the “Lion’s Rump.”

The city—containing about four thousand houses, in which there is an average of four persons—is built in a convex form reaching the water’s edge, and at the base of a very high and abrupt circular hill, called Hakodadi Yama. The most prominent objects are the temples, one of which is some two hundred feet square, whose red tile roofs reflect the sun, and suggest the idea of a Portuguese place. The principal streets are wide, running parallel with the water, rolled with gravel, and very cleanly kept. Those that intersect them are narrower, and closed with gateways of wood. From walls at either end of the place, and entrenchments dug on other sides, it must have been the object to fortify it. The houses of wood, and with more stories and larger than those of Simoda, have great projecting eaves. The clap-boards making the covering of the roof are singularly confined in their places by a number of cobble-stones: such a place would be hard to take by street-fighting, for every roof would furnish missiles for the annoyance of assailants. Every precaution seems to be taken against fire—brooms and barrels of water surmounting each house and before every door. At some places they have primitive little fire-engines, which appear to be stationary. The streets are thronged with the police who are very numerous, armed with sword, and organized as military, and any number of miserable-looking curs, called yenos, resembling shouds, or dogs bred between the wolf and the dog; meaner looking than the cayotes of California.

Having no previous knowledge of our intended visit, a perfect panic prevailed among the people of the place on the arrival of our sailing ships in their bay, which was increased by the arrival of the two fire-ships. The municipal authorities, it is said, were the first to leave the place; and the women were sent after them. For several days long lines of horses, packed with movables, could be seen leaving the City and winding away over a long sandy plain, like a string of camels in a desert.

The cause of all this commotion was afterward found to be a belief among the inhabitants, that our visit was to bring them to account for having imprisoned some American seamen who had been shipwrecked on their coast some years ago. A number of the junks in the harbor also left, though there were some two hundred at anchor continually during our stay. It required some time to pacify the people; although six weeks had elapsed since the signing of the treaty, the authorities protested that they had heard nothing of it, and consequently nothing of the intended visit of the squadron. They said they could not take the responsibility of having any communication with us, except to furnish wood and water. They represented their position as embarrassing, and hoped that we would not come ashore until the arrival of higher officers than themselves.

In the meantime a survey of the harbor was proceeded in; some very good wild game was killed on the opposite shore from the town, and our seine being hauled, yielded nice salmon and quantities of shellfish, which were most acceptable.