At dawn, the snowy ranges of mountains from the termination of Montague Island as far as Cape Suckling, or in the direction of Kaye's Island, were entirely free from clouds or vapours, a sight not common in these regions, and generally a warning for bad weather. As the sun rose, our attention was anxiously directed to witness the effect of its rays on the innumerable snow-capped pinnacles, which this splendid range presented, each, even the lowest, an object of interest, compared with our late scenery. We were, however, disappointed; their obliquity, added to the faces being to the S.W., prevented the effect we anticipated. It was, however, accomplished at sunset.
Light baffling airs, with oppressively hot sun, kept teazing us until after noon, when we appeared to move but tardily towards the passage between Montague and Hinchinbrook Islands, where I was prepared to expect strong tides. About eight we had doubled the Cape, and a gig was sent to examine the coast; but shoal water, contrary to Vancouver's idea, rendered it necessary to anchor in seventeen fathoms. The tide ran at the rate of three knots, but not sufficiently strong to cause me any uneasiness. The boat returned without information; we therefore remained quiet for the night. Several fine fish were caught.
At four we weighed, and followed the gig sent ahead to point out the entrance to the port. Worked in against a fresh N.l'l breeze, soundings on
