"On the 16th we left Orange Bay, but light winds prevented our reaching the open sea that day, or during the following night. I was equally disposed to run out again to the Diego Ramirez—to look at the coast west of False Cape for about ten miles—or to run for the Bay of St. Francis; but the
wind failed entirely. During the night we had a breeze that would have carried us down to the latter spot, but wishing to see, and take bearings of the land as I went, I did not profit by it; and in the morning was baffled with light airs and a current setting to the northward.
"17th. During the early part of the day we had light variable winds, scarcely sufficient to help us against the current which seemed to set constantly into the bay, from the sea, at the rate of about one knot an hour. The manner in which our compasses were affected in this bay was remarkable; all of them being extremely sluggish, and, unless continually shaken, they did not show the proper magnetic bearings, or agree together, nearer than two points. I sharpened the centres with much care, and examined the agate caps, without improving the results. The compasses considered the best in other places, were here as bad as the worst; an excellent one, upon Alexander's principle, with central jimbals, being nearly useless. In trying the compasses on shore, the heavy cards with large needles had been less affected by local influence than light delicate cards of Kater: the heavy ones having averaged 24° variation along the whole coast, though Kater's differed in some places as much as from 19° to 28°; agreeing nearly with each other, but not with Gilbert's or Alexander's compasses, in both of which were cards comparatively heavy.
"We passed much too close to West Cape, but having fortunately cleared it, ran along the land before a moderate breeze, and rounded Cape Spencer at dusk. The weather was so thick that Cape Horn could not be seen, and we mistook the former for the famous cape; especially as, in that view, the lower part of Cape Spencer looked like the head of a double-horned rhinoceros: but as we drew nearer, Cape Horn appeared. The wind failed as we entered the Bay of St. Francis, and left us to the alternative of anchoring in deep water, or driving about with the current: we therefore anchored off San Joachim Cove, near the Seal Rock. The night proved fine, so we lay quietly till next morning, and then made sail to a breeze from the northward and anchored in San Martin
Cove. I afterwards went in a boat to Horn Island, to ascertain the nature of the landing, and whether it was practicable to carry any instruments to the summit of the Cape. Many places were found where a boat might land; and more than one spot where she could be hauled ashore: so that taking instruments to the summit did not seem likely to be a very difficult task. As the weather continued favourable I returned on board that night, and the next morning (19th) arranged for a visit to Cape Horn; a memorial having been previously prepared, and securely enclosed in a stone jar.
"After taking observations at noon for latitude, we set out, carrying five days' provisions, a good chronometer, and other instruments. We landed before dark, hauled our boat up in safety on the north-east side, and established ourselves for the night on Horn Island.
"20th. At daybreak we commenced our walk across the island, each carrying his load; and by the time the sun was high enough for observing, were near the summit, and exactly in its meridian; so we stopped while I took two sets of sights and a round of angles. Soon afterwards we reached the highest point of the Cape, and immediately began our work; I and my coxswain, with the instruments; and Lieut. Kempe with the boat's crew raising a pile of stones over the memorial.
"At first the Diego Ramirez Islands were seen, but before I could get the theodolite fixed and adjusted, the horizon became hazy. At noon satisfactory sets of circum-meridional altitudes were obtained with two good sextants. A round of angles, compass bearings for the variation, and good afternoon sights for time completed our success. The pile made over our memorial was eight feet high, and in it were stones which required the united exertions of all seven men to raise to the top. We drank the health of His Majesty King George the Fourth, and gave three hearty cheers, standing round the Union Jack. Directly all was finished we travelled towards our boat as fast as possible: but darkness surrounded us before we were more than half-way. Those who had loads which would not be hurt by tumbling about among bushes, travelled on; but, having the chronometer and a sextant to take care of, I waited till one of the men returned with a lantern. All reached the boat before nine o'clock, without losing or injuring any thing; but the cargo of stones, for specimens, which each brought back, delayed our returning progress materially.
