The ebb tide after noon was against us, and the wind being light, we were making no progress. As sunset approached, we began to look for anchorage; but the suspicious nature of the bottom and the great depth of the water prevented our being successful until some time after dark; the anchor was at last dropped in twenty-eight fathoms, on a bottom of sandy mud, with the ebb-tide setting to the North-West, at the rate nearly of two knots.
Several whales of that species called by whalers fin-backs were playing about us all day, and during the morning two or three were seen near the vessel lashing the water with their enormous fins and tails, and leaping at intervals out of the sea, which foamed around them for a considerable distance.
After anchoring the wind was variable and light from the western quarter but during the night there was a heavy swell. The flood-tide, which commenced at nine o’clock, when the depth was twenty-eight fathoms, gradually ran stronger until midnight, when its rate was two miles per hour: high-water took place at 3 hours 15 minutes a.m., or at twelve minutes before the moon passed her meridian; the rise being thirty-six feet.
August 18.
We were underweigh before six o’clock the next morning, and after steering by the wind for a short time towards the southward (on which course the tide being against us we were making no progress) bore up with the intention of hauling round the point to leeward for anchorage, whence we might examine the place by the means of our boats, and wait for more favourable weather; but upon reaching within half a mile of the point we found that a shoal communication extended across to a string of islands projecting several miles to sea in a West-North-West direction: in mid channel the sea was breaking, and from the colour of the water it is more than probable that a reef of rocks stretches the whole distance across the strait; but this appearance, from the experience we afterwards had of the navigation of this part, might have been produced by tide ripplings, occasioned by the rapidity of the stream, and by its being contracted in its passage through so narrow a pass; it was however too doubtful and dangerous to attempt without having some resource to fly to in the event of accident.
Being thus disappointed, we were under the necessity of steering round the above-mentioned range of islands, and at nine o’clock were two miles North-East by East from the small island 18, when our latitude by observation was 15 degrees 57 minutes 56 seconds; the depth being thirty-seven fathoms, and the bottom of coral mixed with sand, mud, and shells.
To the westward and in a parallel direction with this line of islands was another range, towards which we steered; at sunset we hauled to the wind for the night, off the northernmost island which afterwards proved to be the Caffarelli Island of Captain Baudin. Between these two ranges of islands we only obtained one cast of the lead which gave us thirty-three fathoms on a coral bottom. Upon referring to the French charts of this part of the coast it appeared that we were in the vicinity of a reef (Brue Reef) under which the French ships had anchored; and, as the night was passed under sail, we were not a little anxious, fearing lest there might be others in its neighbourhood.