"24th. Heavy squalls, with almost constant rain, prevented our moving westward, and similar weather continued throughout the day, becoming worse at night. Had we had plenty of provisions I should not have minded this delay, because we might have remained at anchor till it was over; but so much
had been said about the difficulty sometimes found in working through the Strait, that it concerned us greatly not to lose a chance of making progress. During this night the squalls were very heavy. The holding ground must have been excellent, for williwaws drove the ship from one side to the other as if she had been a chip upon the water.
"26th. Weighed this morning, weathered Cape Quod, and worked to the westward, the weather having cleared and become very fine. The part where most tide is felt was then past. Cape Quod projects so far south that the Strait is there extremely narrow, and though very deep, has a strong tide.
"27th. At daylight we found ourselves to windward of Marian's Cove. Looking eastward upon the land about Cape Quod, it has a very bleak and rugged appearance. The almost perennial west winds prevent vegetation from growing on the heights exposed to their action. Hence the desolate look of the western shores of Tierra del Fuego. We saw a sail beyond Cape Notch, and, just before we moored, close to the shore in Half-port Cove, we made her out to be the Adelaide.
"28th. A bad morning, snowy and blowing, but the wind being moderate between the squalls, I went in a whale boat to examine the Gulf of Xaultegua, and pulled along the south shore towards Cape Monday. Having gained some distance to windward, while the snow was so thick it was impossible to see the shore, we made sail across the Strait, and hit the place within a cable's length. When the snow ceased falling, we saw a large space of water before us, the land opposite being at least five miles distant. We sailed towards a strange looking islet in the middle of the gulf, very similar to the old mouldering figures of the fabled Sphinx, but the snow becoming again almost incessant, only allowing us to see our way at intervals, while the wind was too strong for even a close reefed sail, we landed, and hauled the boat up on an island. I was in hopes of finding an opening which would lead me to the Skyring Water; and my boat's crew, being almost as eager as I was, cared little for the wind or snow. This night we made a larger tent than usual, with a top-gallant studding sail, and
the consequence was, we were extremely cold, as there was a sharp frost, and the snow was lying every where very deep. Next night we were wiser, and reduced our tent to the smallest dimensions.
"29th. Early in the morning we resumed our search. I had a chronometer with me, but as we never saw the sun, nor even a star, I should have been as well without it. We pulled and sailed towards the northernmost corner first, but found no opening, and went thence to the eastward, with a strong and favourable breeze. Passing Still-hope Point I felt sure of finding a passage, for before me were the tops of mountains seen from the Otway Water. I was, however, deceived, the gulf ended in two bights, or inlets, unconnected with other waters: so we returned to Still-hope Point and hauled up the boat. The night passed very well, in a snug place among trees, although the snow was falling thickly. Early next morning we left the shore, having employed a quarter of an hour in clearing the snow out of our boat. When we started, it snowed fast but without wind, and we steered by compass for the Sphinx. I sketched what I could see of the south side of this gulf, but did not consider it worth delaying longer, in such weather, for so unimportant a place, while anxious that the Beagle should reach Chilóe before her provisions were expended, and that I should fall in with the Adelaide before leaving the Strait. If ever a minute survey is made of this gulf, it should be after all others have been examined, as it is utterly useless. The temperature of the water within it we found to be 40° Fahr. We landed on St. Anne's Island, having run near thirty miles since the morning, and thence we sailed across the Strait, reached His Majesty's little vessel, and found that the Adelaide had not yet passed by. All looked cold and wintry, every thing being covered with snow; and our sails were hard frozen, for the first time.
"July 1st. After beating loose the sails, we stood out in the ship to meet the Adelaide, which was seen coming towards us. I went on board, and found every one well. They too, in attempting to anchor off Carlos Island, had, like ourselves, been driven
out: we compared chronometers, and supplied her with a few things not thought of before (keeping under all sail meanwhile to profit by an easterly wind); and the Beagle's officers lent the Adelaide their own stove.
"In the afternoon, we parted company; the Adelaide stood towards Upright Bay, and anchored at dusk, while we steered out of the Strait, with a freshening breeze from the east, which increased much as we made westing. At midnight, we were in the Pacific, and all our anxiety about weeks of beating to windward upon short allowance of provisions, vanished as quickly as the land astern. The glass falling, with the wind in the S.E. quarter, foretold unusually bad weather; we therefore shortened sail by degrees, making all secure.