Friday, October 6th.—­We got under way at 5.30 a.m., and steamed past the low sandy coast of Patagonia and the rugged mountains of Tierra del Fuego, and through the First and Second Narrows, to Cape Negro, where the character of the scenery began to improve a little, the vegetation gradually changing from low scrubby brushwood to respectable-sized trees.  When passing between Elizabeth Island, so named by Sir Francis Drake, and the island of Santa Madalena, we looked in vain for the myriads of seals, otters, and sea-lions with which this portion of the Straits is said to abound; but we saw only seven or eight little black spots on the shore, in the distance, which disappeared into the sea as we approached.

At 3 p.m. we reached Sandy Point, the only civilised place in the Straits.  It is a Chilian settlement, and a large convict establishment has been formed here by the Government.  Almost before we had dropped our anchor, the harbour-master came on board, closely followed by the officers of the two Chilian men-of-war lying in the harbour.  The rain, which had been threatening all day, now descended in torrents, and we landed in a perfect downpour.  We thought the pier at Buenos Ayres unsafe and rickety, but here matters were still worse, for the head of the structure had been completely washed away by a gale, and no little care was necessary in order to step across the broken timbers in safety.  The town, which contains between 1,200 and 1,300 inhabitants, is composed entirely of one-storied log huts, with slate or tile roofs, and with or without verandahs.  They are all arranged in squares, separated from each other by wide roads; and the whole settlement is surrounded by stockades.  At the further end of the town stands the convict prison, distinguished by its tower, and the Governor’s house, which, though built of wood, is the most pretentious-looking edifice in the place.  There is a nice little church close by, and some tidy-looking barracks.

We went straight to the house of the British Vice-Consul, who received us very kindly, and promised to do what he could to assist us in obtaining supplies; but the resources of the place are limited, and eggs, ship’s beef and biscuits, and water, will, I expect, be the sum total of what we shall be able to procure.  In fact, it is rather doubtful whether we shall even be able to renew our stock of coal.  In the meantime we started off to potter about the town, finding, however, very little to amuse us.  There were some new-laid ostrich eggs to be bought, and some queer-looking worked Patagonian saddle-bags.

I fear we shall not see any of the Patagonians themselves, for they come to the colony only three or four times a year, to purchase supplies, and to sell skins and ostrich eggs.  They are a mounted tribe of Indians, living on the northern plains, and are now on their way down here, to pay one of their periodical visits; but, being encumbered with their families, they move very slowly, and are not expected to arrive for another ten days.  They will no doubt bring a splendid supply of skins, just too late for us, which is rather disappointing, particularly as we are not likely to have another opportunity of meeting with them at any of the places we touch at.  They live so far in the interior of the country that they very seldom visit the coast.