At twelve we had fifty-five
fathom, fine sand, of a pale bluish colour.
It was now pretty
moderate weather, yet I made no sail till morning, but then the wind
veering about to the south-west, I made sail and stood to the north,
and at eleven o'clock the next day, August 5th, we saw land again,
at about ten leagues distant. This noon we were in latitude 25
degrees 30 minutes, and in the afternoon our cook died, an old man,
who had been sick a great while, being infirm before we came out of
England.
The 6th of August, in the morning, we saw an opening in the land,
and we ran into it, and anchored in seven and a half fathom water,
two miles from the shore, clean sand. It was somewhat difficult
getting in here, by reason of many shoals we met with; but I sent my
boat sounding before me. The mouth of this sound, which I called
Shark's Bay, lies in about 25 degrees south latitude, and our
reckoning made its longitude from the Cape of Good Hope to be about
87 degrees, which is less by one hundred and ninety-five leagues
than is usually laid down in our common draughts, if our reckoning
was right and our glasses did not deceive us. As soon as I came to
anchor in this bay, I sent my boat ashore to seek for fresh water,
but in the evening my men returned, having found none.
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