The 10th, The Weather Dark, The Storm
As Furious As Ever, Most Of The Men Having Given Over Labour From
Fatigue And In Despair, And Being Near The Lee-Shore By The Reckoning
Both Of The Captain And Master, We Gave Ourselves Up For Lost, Past All
Remedy.
While in this extremity of distress, the sun suddenly shone out
clear, by which the captain and master were enabled to ascertain the
latitude, and thereby knew what course to steer, so as to recover the
straits.
Next day, the 11th October, we saw Cape Deseado, being the
southern point of the entrance into the straits, for the northern point
is a dangerous assemblage of rocks, shoals, and islands. The cape was
now two leagues to leeward, and the master was even in doubt whether we
might be able to steer clear of it; but there was no remedy, as we must
either succeed or be irretrievably lost.
Our master, being a man of spirit, made quick dispatch, and steered for
the straits. Our sails had not been half an hour abroad for this purpose
when the foot-rope of the fore-sail broke, so nothing held save the
oilet-holes. The sea continually broke over our poop, and dashed with
such violence against our sails, that we every moment looked to have
them torn to pieces, or that the ship would overset. To our utter
discomfort also, we perceived that she fell still more and more to
leeward, so that we could not clear the cape.
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