It was time to see the Shoals.  I turned, but the heavy sea tossed the boat about so that it was not at all certain whether they were or were not in sight.  The only objects in view were a few small white clouds about the horizon and the distant sails of a schooner; so again bringing the Cape astern, I rowed on till sunset.  The hills had then almost sunk below the water, and it was full time to see White Island and the light which would be kindled in a few moments.  The boat swung into the trough of the sea, and when on the top of a wave I looked up to the northward.  The sight was not a pleasant one for an evening pull:  the sky was covered with the dark clouds of a gathering storm rapidly rolling up, and my old friend the fog was again working in, as the wind had shifted to the east and north.  In the distance nothing could be seen but black sky and blacker water, while nearer crept on the line of mist, shutting out all prospect.  The Shoals were doubtless somewhere in the darkness, but just where I could not determine.  Something must be done at once before the fog reached me.  Calling a council of war, I debated.  There was no certainty of hitting the Shoals, and if I did come on them in any other than the exact spot, my boat would be beaten into chips in five minutes on some of the reefs which abound in that region.  It would be entirely dark when I reached the islands, and the wind and sea were rising; it looked very much like the beginning of an easterly gale.  So the council concluded to let the Shoals go for that night, and stay out at sea till morning.  Should the gale come on, the boat could be beached on the coast to the westward; and if the wind lulled, as it probably would for a few hours on the next day, there was time enough to get ashore.  I was from eight to ten miles at sea, and six miles east and south of the Shoals, as nearly as I could reckon.  It was necessary to get more to the westward to clear the islands in the night, when the tide set in.  Rowing for half an hour brought me far enough in to stop.  The fog was again all around me, and the thick clouds made it so dark that it was impossible to see twice my boat’s length.  Resting on my oars for a moment, I began to stow a few things more closely in the seat-room, when a huge sea broke just ahead, and, striking the bow a little on one side, whirled the boat round and rolled her half over, pitching the crest into the seat-room and filling it with water.  I caught her with the oars barely in time to save her, and turned her again head to the sea, keeping a watchful eye to windward.  Then baling out the seat-room, I took some crackers and a draught of water, and turned the boat stern foremost to the sea.