On the 1st of November, at four o'clock in the morning, the calm was succeeded by a breeze from the south. This soon after increased to a fresh gale, attended with hazy, rainy weather, which gave us hopes that the N.W. winds were done; for it must be observed, that they were attended with clear and fair weather. We were not wanting in taking immediate advantage of this favourable wind, by setting all our sails, and steering for Cape Campbell, which at noon bore north, distant three or four leagues. At two o'clock we passed the Cape, and entered the Strait with a brisk gale a- stern, and so likely to continue that we thought of nothing less than reaching our port the next morning. Once more we were to be deceived; at six o'clock, being off Cloudy Bay, our favourable wind was succeeded by one from the north, which soon after veered to N.W., and increased to a fresh gale. We spent the night plying; our tacks proved disadvantageous; and we lost more on the ebb than we gained on the flood. Next morning, we stretched over for the shore of Eaheinomauwe. At sun-rise the horizon being extraordinarily clear to leeward, we looked well out for the Adventure; but as we saw nothing of her, judged she had got into the Sound. As we approached the above-mentioned shore, we discovered on the east side of Cape Teerawhitte, a new inlet I had never observed before. Being tired with beating against the N.W. winds, I resolved to put into this place if I found it practicable, or to anchor in the bay which lies before it. The flood being favourable, after making a stretch off, we fetched under the Cape, and stretched into the bay along the western shore, having from thirty-five to twelve fathoms, the bottom everywhere good anchorage. At one o'clock we reached the entrance of the inlet just as the tide of ebb was making out; the wind being likewise against us, we anchored in twelve fathoms water, the bottom a fine sand. The easternmost of the Black Rocks, which lie on the larboard side of the entrance of the inlet, bore N. by E., one mile distant; Cape Teerawhitte, or the west point of the bay, west, distant about two leagues; and the east point of the bay N. by east, four or five miles.
Soon after we had anchored, several of the natives came off in their canoes; two from one shore, and one from the other. It required but little address to get three or four of them on board. These people were extravagantly fond of nails above every other thing. To one man I gave two cocks and two hens, which he received with so much indifference, as gave me little hopes he would take proper care of them.[2]
[2] "In their unthinking situation, the first moment they have nothing ready at hand to satisfy the cravings of appetite, our fowls must fall the victims to their voracity. If there are any hopes of succeeding in the introduction of domestic animals in this country, it must be in the populous bays to the northward, where the inhabitants seem to be the more civilized, and are already accustomed to cultivate several roots for their subsistance."--G.F.
We had not been at anchor here above two hours, before the wind veered to N.E., with which we weighed; but the anchor was hardly at the bows before it shifted to the south. With this we could but just lead out of the bay, and then bore away for the Sound under all the sail we could set; having the advantage, or rather disadvantage, of an increasing gale, which already blew too hard. We hauled up into the Sound just at dark, after making two boards, in which most of our sails were split; and anchored in eighteen fathoms water, between the White Rocks and the N.W. shore.
The next morning the gale abated, and was succeeded by a few hours calm; after that a breeze sprang up at N.W., with which we weighed and ran up into Ship Cove, where we did not find the Adventure, as was expected.
SECTION V.
Transactions at Queen Charlotte's Sound; with an Account of the Inhabitants being Cannibals; and various other Incidents.--Departure from the Sound, and our Endeavours to find the Adventure; with some Description of the Coast.
The first thing we did after mooring the ship, was to unbend all the sails; there not being one but what wanted repair. Indeed, both our sails and rigging had sustained much damage in beating off the Strait's mouth.
We had no sooner anchored than we were visited by the natives, several of whom I remembered to have seen when I was here in the Endeavour, particularly an old man named Goubiah.[1] In the afternoon, I gave orders for all the empty water casks to be landed, in order to be repaired, cleaned, and filled, tents to be set up for the sail-makers, coopers, and others, whose business made it necessary for them to be on shore. The next day we began to caulk the ship's sides and decks, to overhaul her rigging, repair the sails, cut wood for fuel, and set up the smith's forge to repair the iron-work; all of which were absolutely necessary. We also made some hauls with the seine, but caught no fish; which deficiency the natives in some measure, made up, by bringing us a good quantity, and exchanging them for pieces of Otaheitean cloth, &c.
[1] "They expressed great satisfaction at our calling them by their names, doubtless because it served to persuade them that we were particularly concerned for their welfare, by retaining them in memory. The weather was fair and warm, considering the season, but our New Zealanders were all covered with shaggy cloaks, which are their winter dresses."--G.F.