The sea spouted on the reefs and thundered against the shore.  About noon we sighted a line of jagged reef, like blackened teeth, that seemed to bar the entrance to the bay.  Inside, comparatively smooth water stretched eight or nine miles to the head of the bay.  A gap in the reef appeared, and we made for it.  But the fates had another rebuff for us.  The wind shifted and blew from the east right out of the bay.  We could see the way through the reef, but we could not approach it directly.  That afternoon we bore up, tacking five times in the strong wind.  The last tack enabled us to get through, and at last we were in the wide mouth of the bay.  Dusk was approaching.  A small cove, with a boulder-strewn beach guarded by a reef, made a break in the cliffs on the south side of the bay, and we turned in that direction.  I stood in the bows directing the steering as we ran through the kelp and made the passage of the reef.  The entrance was so narrow that we had to take in the oars, and the swell was piling itself right over the reef into the cove; but in a minute or two we were inside, and in the gathering darkness the ‘James Caird’ ran in on a swell and touched the beach.  I sprang ashore with the short painter and held on when the boat went out with the backward surge.  When the ‘James Caird’ came in again three of the men got ashore, and they held the painter while I climbed some rocks with another line.  A slip on the wet rocks twenty feet up nearly closed my part of the story just at the moment when we were achieving safety.  A jagged piece of rock held me and at the same time bruised me sorely.  However, I made fast the line, and in a few minutes we were all safe on the beach, with the boat floating in the surging water just off the shore.  We heard a gurgling sound that was sweet music in our ears, and, peering around, found a stream of fresh water almost at our feet.  A moment later we were down on our knees drinking the pure, ice-cold water in long draughts that put new life into us.  It was a splendid moment.

The next thing was to get the stores and ballast out of the boat, in order that we might secure her for the night.  We carried the stores and gear above high-water mark and threw out the bags of sand and the boulders that we knew so well.  Then we attempted to pull the empty boat up the beach, and discovered by this effort how weak we had become.  Our united strength was not sufficient to get the ’James Caird’ clear of the water.  Time after time we pulled together, but without avail.  I saw that it would be necessary to have food and rest before we beached the boat.  We made fast a line to a heavy boulder and set a watch to fend the ‘James Caird’ off the rocks of the beach.  Then I sent Crean round to the left side of the cove, about thirty yards away, where I had noticed a little cave as we were running in.  He could not see much in the darkness, but reported that the place certainly promised some shelter.  We carried the sleeping-bags round and found a mere hollow in the rock-face, with a shingle floor sloping at a steep angle to the sea.  There we prepared a hot meal, and when the food was finished I ordered the men to turn in.  The time was now about 8 p.m., and I took the first watch beside the ‘James Caird’, which was still afloat in the tossing water just off the beach.