this, we had been convinced by experience that the ship would never work off a lee shore, and our leads were in consequence kept going night and day.
“The nights had now become very long and dark, and the lateness of the season, with our slow progress, gave me great anxiety for the ship, situated as she was in a narrow channel of the most uncertain description, and constantly exposed to the severity of equinoctial gales. I wished to have found some sheltered anchorage in which to water, and at the same time to examine our rudder, which was evidently loosened by the blows it had received; but the whole coast hitherto seen, had neither an inlet, nor a single protected indentation.
“On the 7th, towards noon, the land was seen extending from N.N.W. to north. This we knew must he somewhere near Cape Fullerton, and as but little sea arose, I carried on, even although we dipped the waist hammocks under, to reach a sheltered anchorage before night. The wind blew with such violence as to cover the sea with one continued foam; but we succeeded in nearing the land, and brought up with two bower-anchors and 70 fathoms of chain, in 15 fathoms water, at four miles from the shore, off which the heavy gale blew down to us. Our position by observation, on the 8th, accorded so well with Middleton’s chart, that it was evident we had anchored between Whale Point and Cape Fullerton.
“At 4-30 a.m., on the 9th, we weighed, and ran along the land which trended east-north-east. A few whales were seen in the afternoon, and it is remarkable that this should be the first time of meeting with them, and also that we should not have seen either a narwhal or a bear, although we had passed through so great a quantity of ice in Hudson’s Strait. At 4 p.m., while steering N.E., 5 knots, before a heavy sea, Mr. Harding saw a white space on the water, having all the appearance of a sandy shoal; he instantly kept away, and running on deck, I saw it within half a cable’s length of our quarter, while at the same moment a cast of the lead gave no bottom with 40 fathoms. We wore, and stood off on the starboard tack; and now, having no weather shore to afford us either shelter or anchorage, we found ourselves obliged to continue under sail all night, in this narrow and extremely dangerous channel, to the great anxiety of all hands, and sad fatigue of the men, who were employed unceasingly with deep-sea and hand-leads, at a temperature of 28°; the hands of many were in so very sore a state, that I caused canvass mittens to be made for the use of the watch on deck; but on this, as on all other occasions, their cheerful alacrity and good-humour was above all praise. Throughout the night we worked in the centre of the ‘Welcome,’ guided by our leads, and never having less than 30 or above 50 fathoms. On the 10th, as the weather moderated, we made sail N.W.b.N.; but an uneasy sea prevented our keeping headway. At 3 p.m., some part of Southampton Island, possibly the mountains on its eastern shore, was visible to the N.E., from aloft, and the apparent termination of the American coast
