it at low water, I tried in vain to enter.  The sea was breaking heavily right across the entrance from one side to the other, and after several ineffectual attempts to run in, I came to an anchor, close to the outer line of breakers, hoping that the sea would subside at high water and that we should then have less difficulty.  We had not, however, been in this position more than half an hour, when a heavy southerly swell set in; from a deep blue the water became green, and the wind suddenly flew round to the S.W.  Before we could weigh and stand out from the shore, several seas had broken outside of us, and in less than ten minutes the whole coast, to the distance of more than a mile from the shore, was white with foam, and it seemed clear that a gale was coming on.  Under these circumstances I determined on returning to the little harbour from which we had started in the morning, but the wind being directly against us, we made very little head.  “We shall never get to the Nob,” said Mr. Witch, who had the steer oar, to me; “it blows too hard, Sir.”  “What are we to do, then?” said I.  “Why, Sir,” he replied, “we must either beach or run out to sea,” “We will beach, then,” I said; “it is better to try that than to do any thing else.”  Mr Witch evinced some surprise at my decision, but made no remark.  “You had better select your place,” I observed, “and be careful to keep the boat’s head well on to the seas.”  “You need not fear me, Sir,” said the hardy seaman; “I am accustomed to such work.  It looks worse than it really is.”  The sea, however, was now breaking full a mile and a half from the shore, and in looking towards it I observed a solitary horseman riding slowly along, as if watching our movements.  At length Mr. Witch said that he thought we were opposite to a favourable spot, on which I directed him to put the boat’s head towards the shore, and to keep her end on as he went in.  Round we flew, and in a moment after we were running at railway speed on the top of a heavy wave.  “Steady, men,” said Mr. Witch:  “Steady all,” and on we went; but looking round him a moment after—­“Back, all.  Back, all,” he cried.  The men did as they were ordered, and the boat’s way was stopped.  Her stern rose almost perpendicularly over the prow, and the next moment fell into the trough of the sea.  The wave, transparent as bottle glass, rushed past us, and topping, as it is called, burst at our very bow, in a broad sheet of foam.  “Give way, my lads,” was the next order of the watchful steersman, as he again cast his eyes behind him.  “Give way, my lads.  Give way, all.”  “Steady, men,” he called, as if doubtful of the result of the coming wave.  I thought I saw paleness on the face of the rowers, but they pulled regularly and well, and a thundering sound soon told us we had escaped the threatening sea that had come so rapidly up.  I do not know if I am doing justice to the occurrence.  There was more of apparent than real danger in it, and I myself was less nervous, because I had not long before been accustomed to the heavy surf of Norfolk Island.  It was, however, a moment of great excitement.  We had literally shot towards the shore, and were now within fifty yards of it, when Mr. Witch said to me, “Take care of yourself, Sir; we shall catch it at last.”