Jan. 20.
less than a quarter of a mile, and we could seldom see beyond a mile; we, however, continued our course under all sail until six o'clock, when, during a partial clearing, we saw a great body of ice extending across our bows, fortunately in time to enable us to haul off to the eastward, and clear the point of it, passing through only a small quantity of scattered pieces at its outer edge. Soon afterwards we perceived that the ice extended from the north cape of Coulman Island (Cape Wadworth) several miles to the northward, and the whole space between it and Cape Jones, named after my friend Captain William Jones, R.N., was filled with a solid field of ice that appeared as if it had not yet broken up this season. We resumed our course to the southward, after clearing some loose streams off the main body of the ice, and at noon were in latitude, by dead reckoning, 73° 47′ S., long. 171° 40′ E., the sun not affording us an observation for latitude, for which we now most anxiously wished.
Penguins, white and stormy petrel, were seen in abundance, as also were several seals. Falling calm at 1.30 p.m. we sounded in 320 fathoms, the deep-sea clamms coming up full of a stiff green mud, sand, and small stones, some fragments of starfish, and pieces of coral. A strong ripple indicated a tide or current; and we found the ship was drifting to the south by the lead and bearings of the land, at the rate of three quarters of a mile per hour. At this time, Cape Anne, the high, perpendicular, extreme point of Coulman Island, bore