On February 19, at the first dawn of day, I went on deck, and the sight that met my gaze was one never to be forgotten. The wind was blowing at a tremendous rate, and the great seas, fully forty feet high, were chasing each other over the deep. Each wave was crested with foam as white as snow, while underneath was a line of deep sea blue. It was terrible, yet grand to look upon.

Our sick were much better, and the thought that we were being rapidly borne toward our destination caused the men to be more cheerful and hopeful. Nevertheless it was the most terrible day we had yet experienced. One thing was in our favor, we had plenty of sea room to run before the gale. Great seas washed our deck all day, our jib-sail was again carried away, and one of our boats torn loose from its fastenings. Several seas swept over the cook's galley, which was six feet above deck. Two men were cutting steak from a quarter of beef, when a great wave broke over the ship, carrying men and beef across to the opposite side, and one of them was considerably injured against the rail. After this, no one but the sailors was allowed on deck while the storm lasted, and they worked much of the time in water. We were now all cooped up below deck, and with so much sickness, the air soon became very foul. Our discomfort was increased by being obliged to hold fast to something all the time to keep from being flung to the opposite side of the vessel.

Night came on, but brought us no relief. As darkness settled over us, the storm seemed to increase in fury, and all night long the demons of the deep and air appeared as if turned loose. To us, shut up below, and listening to the creaking of the ship, the roaring of the wind, and the rushing of the great waters, and unable to see anything of what was going on, it seemed as if every lurch we made was a downward plunge from which we might not arise. Small wonder that the night was one of great tension on nerves so wholly unused to such a life, or that the hours were weary ones while we waited for the morning.

At last Sunday morning dawned. It was our second Sunday at sea. About ten o'clock the storm began to abate, and by two in the afternoon the sails were flapping idly, with not a breeze to fill them. The ocean continued to run high until evening, when it calmed down considerably, and we passed a comfortable night.

Not having a clergyman on board, the day was not observed very religiously; for not more than one or two of our company, and none of the crew, pretended to be Christians. Yet after so many days of glaring into the very jaws of death, as we had done, we can but think that a feeling akin to gratitude must have taken possession of every thoughtfulf person. Of course the boys slept soundly after having been kept awake so long.

Monday morning, February 21, dawned bright and clear, and all hands were allowed to come on deck to enjoy the occasion. We were soon scudding along under full sail and made fair progress. The whole of that day and the following night we had favoring winds, and we were nearing our destination at a commendable rate.

Tuesday, February 22, was bright and much colder. We had hoped to be at our journey's end by this time, but instead we were but a little over half way there. By favorable weather, however, we hoped to cast anchor in Prince William Sound within another week. All day Tuesday we made but five knots an hour, and that not in a direct course, for we had head winds, and were compelled to bear to the southwest. That night gave us a placid sea, and the boys got a fine night's sleep.

Wednesday, clear and cold. After the sea became smooth, the sick improved rapidly, and soon, with but few exceptions, were able to eat heartily.

The captain took his observations, and reported that we were 595 miles from Port Valdez. This was a disappointment to us all, for we supposed we were much nearer.