"The morning of the 24th was very fine, and the wind moderate. Leaving the Beagle to sound about the Isles of Direction, I set out in my boat, with two days' provisions, towards Cape Victory. As we rowed along these rocky shores, threading the mazes of the labyrinth of islets which fringe them, we saw vast numbers of black whales, and the rocks were quite covered with fur seal and brant geese.
"After pulling, in earnest, for six hours, we landed upon Cape Victory, the north-western limit of the Strait of Magalhaens, and there, with a sextant, artificial horizon, and chronometer, ascertained the position of this remarkable promontory. From an eminence, eight hundred feet above the sea, we had a commanding view of the adjacent coasts, as well as of the vast Pacific, which enabled us to rectify former material errors. Late in the evening we were fortunate enough to get safely on board again, which, considering the usual weather here and the heavy sea, was unexpected success. This night was passed under sail in the Pacific, and next morning we commenced our return to Port Famine.
"When within four or five miles of Cape Pillar, and to the westward of it, a current was found to set southward, at about two knots an hour. As we neared the Cape the wind fell, and the Beagle was set rapidly towards those dangerous rocks, called the Apostles. Fortunately, a commanding breeze sprung up, and we extricated ourselves from the difficulty. While passing Cape Pillar, I landed in a cove near it, and determined its position. By sunset we had arrived near the Harbour of Mercy; and being becalmed, towed the ship in, with her boats, until an anchor was dropped at the proper place.
"On the 26th, we went to Tuesday Bay, and on the 27th crossed the Strait, and anchored under Cape Parker. I have rarely witnessed such a high, cross, and irregular sea as we this day passed through, near the strange mass of rock, called by
Narborough, 'Westminster Hall.' The coast about our unsafe anchorage was as barren and dismal-looking as any part of this country, which, as the old navigator above-mentioned said, is 'so desolate land to behold.'
"Next day (March 1st) we ran down to Cape Upright, and there remained until the 3d, collecting the required data for our survey.
"While standing towards the bay called Playa Parda (on the 3d), a boat under sail was seen making towards us from the southern coast. I fired several guns, to show our position, before we became shut in by the land, and soon after anchoring a whale-boat came alongside, with the second mate and five men belonging to the sealing-vessel Prince of Saxe Cobourg.
"Anxious not to lose a moment in hastening to the relief of our shipwrecked countrymen, I ran down next day to Port Gallant, and thence proceeded with two ten-oared boats (on the 5th) through the Barbara Channel, and the following evening reached Fury Harbour."
Having already given a short account of the Saxe Cobourg's loss, and the rescue of her crew by Captain Stokes, I will not repeat the story by extracting more from his journal.
Mr. Graves returned from his cruize in the Hope on the 17th, after suffering much from stormy weather and incessant rain; but having made a survey of the openings in the land to the west of Magdalen Channel as far as the Sugar Loaf Point, at the west head of Lyell Sound, which he found to be deep inlets, affording no anchorages of value to navigation.