At dawn of day we sighted Japan.
Precisely at the foretold moment Japan arose before us, afar off, like
a clear and distinct dot in the vast sea, which for so many days had
been but a blank space.
At first we saw nothing in the rising sun but a series of tiny
pink-tipped heights (the foremost portion of the Fukai islands). Soon,
however, appeared all along the horizon, like a thick cloud, a dark
veil over the waters, Japan itself; and little by little out of the
dense shadow arose the sharp opaque outlines of the Nagasaki
mountains.
The wind was dead against us, and the strong breeze, which steadily
increased, seemed as if the country were blowing with all its might
against us, in a vain effort to drive us away from its shores. The
sea, the rigging, the vessel itself, all vibrated and quivered as if
with emotion.