"Having again examined the barometer, we began to descend; for the sun disappearing behind the distant mountains, warned us that it was time to return. We had enjoyed a magnificent view on all sides, and were reluctant to leave our station. In descending, we made rapid progress at first, sliding many yards together down the soft snow; but, by the time we reached the woody part, it was getting dark, and having foolishly tried to return by a straight line, instead of going round, we found steep cliffs, and ravines covered with rotten trees, which perplexed us exceedingly. Darkness, and the deep snow, much increased our dilemma; yet we could not resist laughing heartily at the ludicrous scrapes some of the party got into: one man was rather a-head, looking for a way to descend a steep place, when the snow slipped from under him, and down he went, about eighty feet, partly sliding,
partly falling, but quite against his consent. What he did by accident, we were obliged to do, because there was no alternative; so away we slid, one after another, like so many sledges upon Russian ice-hills, holding the instruments as we could, by one hand, while the other was employed to check or steady us. With a little more of this sort of work, and some struggling through the wood at the bottom, we reached the shore, where a boat was waiting for us, and at about eight arrived on board, in a half-wet, half-frozen condition.[[131]]
"19th. Every thing was brought on board, the ship unmoored, and all made ready for our departure next morning.
"20th. Sailed from Port Gallant, leaving the Adelaide to rate her chronometers, and rejoin us before leaving the Strait. In the evening we anchored in Elizabeth Bay, after a severe day's struggle against a strong and contrary wind, with much rain.
"21st. Blowing hard again this morning from the N.W., with a great deal of rain. Weighed and made sail under reefed courses and treble reefed topsails, but the wind and tide were more than a match for us, so we stood across into Whale Sound, and worked up under the lee of Carlos Island, finding the tide there rather in our favour. The 'williwaws' (I know no better name for the sudden gusts that come off the high land) gave us some trouble, occasionally laying us almost on our beam ends. At half past two I was induced to anchor under the lee of the south-east extremity of Carlos Island, and thought our day's work was repaid by a snug position close to a weather-shore, besides having made some little progress; but after dark the wind became more violent, and a williwaw drove us out into deep water. We set the storm sails, which, with the weather-tide, known to be then making strongly, I hoped would take her a-head sufficiently to clear Rupert Island (lying under our lee), and all hands then went to the capstan; but while heaving-in the cable, our bower anchor again caught the ground and brought us up. We veered away cable
directly, let go another anchor, and rode out the rest of the gale, which was extremely violent, without driving.
"The instant our anchor caught, I knew we must be on a ridge, of which Lieut. Skyring had spoken to me, lying between Rupert and Carlos Islands, across which the tide makes strongly, at the rate of about three knots. Rupert Island was still under our lee, distant less than half a mile.
"22d. Blowing hard and raining. At 9 A.M. it cleared and moderated, but so strong a tide set past us, to the south, that we could not attempt to weigh. It differs here from that in mid-channel by two hours, which may much assist a vessel if she manages so as to take eight hours tide in her favour.
"At eleven we unmoored, and got ready for moving at the turn of tide.[[132]] At one we weighed and made sail with a moderate wind from N.W., and by keeping close to Carlos Island, and making short boards, we had a weather-tide, while in the fairway of the Strait the stream was running to the S.E. We anchored in Bachelor's Bay (or York Roads), choosing an outside berth in order to have more room to weigh again and work with the morning tide. It blew hard in the night, but we rode securely, although the tide ran at least three knots where we were.
"23d. We started and worked to the westward, and at nine were abreast of Borja Bay; but by trying for too much, nearly lost all that we had gained, for in standing across from the bay, hoping to weather Cape Quod, the flood tide took us so strongly, that it cost three hours close working to get to an anchor even in Borja Bay. We had rain and sleet continually through the day, and it blew hard at night, but as plenty of chain was out, the topsails and courses were close reefed, and the top-gallant masts on deck, we were ready for anything.