I intended going through one of the channels that divide these islands; but meeting with a strong current setting against us, I bore up, and went to the leeward of them all. Toward the evening, the weather, which had been hazy all day, cleared up, and we got sight of a very lofty promontory, whose elevated summit, forming two exceedingly high mountains, was seen above the clouds. This promontory I named Cape Douglas, in honour of my very good friend, Dr Douglas, canon of Windsor.[3] It is situated in the latitude of 58° 56', and in the longitude of 206° 10'; ten leagues to the westward of Barren Isles, and twelve from Point Banks, in the direction of N.W. by W. 1/2 W.
Between this point and Cape Douglas, the coast seemed to form a large and deep bay; which, from some smoke that had been seen on Point Banks, obtained the name of Smokey Bay.
At day-break, the next morning, being the 26th, having got to the northward of the Barren Isles, we discovered more land, extending from Cape Douglas to the north. It formed a chain of mountains of vast height; one of which, far more conspicuous than the rest, was named Mount St Augustin. The discovery of this land did not discourage us, as it was supposed to be wholly unconnected with the land of Cape Elizabeth. For, in a N.N.E. direction, the sight was unlimited by every thing but the horizon. We also thought that there was a passage to the N.W., between, Cape Douglas and Mount St Augustin. In short, it was imagined, that the land on our larboard, to the N. of Cape Douglas, was composed of a group of islands, disjoined by so many channels, any one of which we might make use of according as the wind should serve.
With these flattering ideas, having a fresh-gale at N.N.E., we stood to the N.W. till eight o'clock, when we clearly saw, that what we had taken for islands were summits of mountains, every where connected by lower land, which the haziness of the horizon had prevented us from seeing at a greater distance. This land was every where covered with snow, from the tops of the hills down to the very sea-beach; and had every other appearance of being part of a great continent. I was now fully persuaded that I should find no passage by this inlet; and my persevering in the search of it here, was more to satisfy other people than to confirm my own opinion.
At this time Mount St Augustin bore N., 40 W., three or four leagues distant. This mountain is of a conical figure, and of very considerable height; but it remains undetermined whether it be an island or part of the continent. Finding that nothing could be done to the W., we tacked, and stood over to Cape Elizabeth, under which we fetched at half-past five in the afternoon. On the N. side of Cape Elizabeth, between it and a lofty promontory, named Cape Bede,[4] is a bay, in the bottom of which there appeared to be two snug harbours. We stood well into this bay, where we might have anchored in twenty-three fathoms water; but as I had no such view, we tacked and stood to the westward, with the wind at N. a very strong gale, attended by rain, and thick hazy weather.
The next morning the gale abated; but the same weather continued till three o'clock in the afternoon, when it cleared up. Cape Douglas bore S.W. by W.; Mount St Augustin W. 1/2 S.; and Cape Bede S., 15° E., five leagues distant. In this situation, the depth of water was forty fathoms, over a rocky bottom. From Cape Bede, the coast trended N.E. by E. with a chain of mountains inland, extending in the same direction. The land on the coast was woody; and there seemed to be no deficiency of harbours. But, what was not much in our favour, we discovered low land in the middle of the inlet, extending from N.N.E. to N.E. by E. 1/2 E. However, as this was supposed to be an island, it did not discourage us. About this time we got a light breeze southerly, and I steered to the westward of this low land; nothing appeared to obstruct us in that direction. Our soundings during the night were from thirty to twenty-five fathoms.
On the 28th, in the morning, having but very little wind, and observing the ship to drive to the southward, in order to stop her, I dropped a kedge-anchor, with an eight-inch hawser bent to it. But, in bringing the ship up, the hawser parted near the inner end; and we lost both it and the anchor. For although we brought the ship up with one of the bowers, and spent most of the day in sweeping for them, it was to no effect. By an observation, we found our station to be in the latitude of 59° 51'; the low land above mentioned extended from N.E. to S., 75° E., the nearest part two leagues distant. The land on the western shore was about seven leagues distant, and extended from S. 35° W., to N. 7° E.; so that the extent of the inlet was now reduced to three points and a half of the compass; that is, from N. 1/2 E. to N.E. Between these two points no land was to be seen. Here was a strong tide setting to the southward out of the inlet. It was the ebb, and ran between three and four knots in an hour; and it was low water at ten o'clock. A good deal of sea-weed, and some drift-wood, were carried out with the tide. The water, too, had become thick like that in rivers; but we were encouraged to proceed, by finding it as salt at low water as the ocean. The strength of the flood-tide was three knots, and the stream ran up till four in the afternoon.
As it continued calm all day, I did not move till eight o'clock in the evening; when, with a light breeze at E., we weighed, and stood to the N., up the inlet. We had not been long under sail, before the wind veered to the N., increasing to a fresh gale, and blowing in squalls, with rain. This did not, however, hinder us from plying up as long as the flood continued; which was till near five o'clock the next morning. We had soundings from thirty-five to twenty-four fathoms. In this last depth we anchored about two leagues from the eastern shore, in the latitude of 60° 8'; some low land, that we judged to be an island, lying under the western shore, extended from N. 1/2 W. to N.W. by N., distant three or four leagues.
The weather had how become fair and tolerably clear, so that we could see any land that might lie within our horizon; and in a N.N.E. direction, no land, nor any thing to obstruct our progress, was visible. But on each side was a ridge of mountains, rising one behind another, without the least separation. I judged it to be low water, by the shore, about ten o'clock; but the ebb ran down till near noon. The strength of it was four knots and a half; and it fell, upon a perpendicular, ten feet three inches, that is; while we lay at anchor; so that there is reason to believe that this was not the greatest fall. On the eastern shore we now saw two columns of smoke; a sure sign that there were inhabitants.
At one in the afternoon we weighed, and plied up under double-reefed top-sails and courses, having a very strong gale at N.N.E. nearly right down the inlet. We stretched over to the western shore, and fetched within two leagues of the south end of the low land, or island before mentioned, under which I intended to have taken shelter till the gale should cease. But falling suddenly into twelve fathoms water, from upward of forty, and seeing the appearance of a shoal ahead, spitting out from the low land, I tacked, and stretched back to the eastward, and anchored under that shore in nineteen fathoms water, over a bottom of small pebble stones.