Now, however, running almost dead
before the gale, getting into smoother water at every fathom, she
was steady as a rock, allowing us to pursue our greasy avocation
in comparative comfort. The gale was still increasing, although
now blowing with great fury; but, to our satisfaction, it was dry
and not too cold. Running before it, too, lessened our
appreciation of its force; besides which, we were exceedingly
busy clearing away the enormous mass of the junk, which, draining
continually, kept the decks running with oil.
We started to run up the Straits at about ten a.m. At two p.m. we
suddenly looked up from our toil, our attention called by a
sudden lull in the wind. We had rounded Saddle Point, a
prominent headland, which shut off from us temporarily the
violence of the gale. Two hours later we found ourselves hauling
up into the pretty little harbour of Port William, where, without
taking more than a couple of hands off the work, the vessel was
rounded-to and anchored with quite as little fuss as bringing a
boat alongside a ship. It was the perfection of seamanship.
Once inside the bay, a vessel was sheltered from all winds, the
land being high and the entrance intricate.
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