On the 31st, having completed our wooding, and filled all our water casks, I sent out two parties, one to cut and make brooms, and another to catch fish.  In the evening, we had a strong gale from the N.W. with such a heavy rain, that our little wild musicians on shore suspended their song, which till now we had constantly heard during the night, with a pleasure which it was impossible to lose without regret.

On the 1st, the gale increased to a storm, with heavy gusts from the high land, one of which broke the hawser, that we had fastened to the shore, and obliged us to let go another anchor.  Towards midnight, the gale became more moderate, but the rain continued with such violence, that the brook which had supplied us with water overflowed its banks, and carried away ten small casks which had been left there full of water, and notwithstanding we searched the whole cove, we could never recover one of them.

On the 3d, as I intended to sail the first opportunity, I went over to the Hippah on the east side of the Sound, and purchased a considerable quantity of split and half-dried fish, for sea stores.  The people here confirmed all that the old man had told us concerning the streight and the country, and about noon I took leave of them:  Some of them seemed to be sorry, and others glad that we were going:  The fish which I bought they sold freely, but there were some who shewed manifest signs of disapprobation.  As we returned to the ship, some of us made an excursion along the shore to the northward, to traffic with the natives for a farther supply of fish; in which, however, they had no great success.  In the evening, we got every thing off from the shore, as I intended to sail in the morning, but the wind would not permit.

On the 4th, while we were waiting for a wind, we amused ourselves by fishing, and gathering shells and seeds of various kinds; and early in the morning of the 5th, we cast off the hawser, hove short on the bower, and carried the kedge-anchor out in order to warp the ship out of the cove, which having done about two o clock in the afternoon, we hove up the anchor and got under sail; but the wind soon failing, we were obliged to come to an anchor again a little above Motuara.  When we were under sail, our old man Topaa came on board to take his leave of us, and as we were still desirous of making farther enquiries whether any memory of Tasman had been preserved among these people, Tupia was directed to ask him whether he had ever heard that such a vessel as ours had before visited the country.  To this he replied in the negative, but said, that his ancestors had told him there had once come to this place a small vessel, from a distant country, called Ulimaroa, in which were four men, who, upon their coming on shore, were all killed:  Upon being asked where this distant land lay, he pointed to the northward.  Of Ulimaroa we had heard something before from the people about the Bay of Islands, who said that their ancestors had visited it; and Tupia had also talked to us of Ulimaroa, concerning which he had some confused traditionary notions, not very different from those of our old man, so that we could draw no certain conclusion from the accounts of either.