On the 5th a booby was caught by the hand, the blood of which was divided among three of the men who were weakest, and the bird kept for next day’s dinner; and on the evening of the 6th the allowance for supper was recommenced, according to a promise made when it had been discontinued.  On the 7th, after a miserably wet and cold night, nothing more could be afforded than the usual allowance for breakfast; but at dinner each person had the luxury of an ounce of dried clams, which consumed all that remained.  The sea was running high and breaking over the boat the whole of this day.  Mr. Ledward, the surgeon, and Lawrence Lebogue, an old hardy seaman, appeared to be giving way very fast.  No other assistance could be given to them than a teaspoonful or two of wine, that had been carefully saved for such a melancholy occasion, which was not at all unexpected.

On the 8th the weather was more moderate, and a small dolphin was caught, which gave about two ounces to each man:  in the night it again blew strong, the boat shipped much water, and they all suffered greatly from wet and cold.  The surgeon and Lebogue still continued very ill, and the only relief that could be afforded them was a small quantity of wine, and encouraging them with the hope that a very few days more, at the rate they were then sailing, would bring them to Timor.

’In the morning of the 10th, after a very comfortless night, there was a visible alteration for the worse,’ says Mr. Bligh, ’in many of the people, which gave me great apprehensions.  An extreme weakness, swelled legs, hollow and ghastly countenances, a more than common inclination to sleep, with an apparent debility of understanding, seemed to me the melancholy presages of an approaching dissolution.  The surgeon and Lebogue, in particular, were most miserable objects.  I occasionally gave them a few teaspoonfuls of wine, out of the little that remained, which greatly assisted them.  The hope of being able to accomplish the voyage was our principal support.  The boatswain very innocently told me that he really thought I looked worse than any in the boat.  The simplicity with which he uttered such an opinion amused me, and I returned him a better compliment.’

On the 11th Lieutenant Bligh announced to his wretched companions that he had no doubt they had now passed the meridian of the eastern part of Timor, a piece of intelligence that diffused universal joy and satisfaction.  Accordingly at three in the morning of the following day Timor was discovered at the distance only of two leagues from the shore.

‘It is not possible for me,’ says this experienced navigator, ’to describe the pleasure which the blessing of the sight of this land diffused among us.  It appeared scarcely credible to ourselves that, in an open boat, and so poorly provided, we should have been able to reach the coast of Timor in forty-one days after leaving Tofoa, having in that time run, by our log, a distance of three thousand six hundred and eighteen nautical miles; and that, notwithstanding our extreme distress, no one should have perished in the voyage.’