Recounts how they came in sight of the third island that was
discovered, and a great storm.
Following the W.N.W. course, on the 3rd of February, the Captain
put out a flag on the topmast for the ships to close and the pilots
to report in what latitude they were, how many leagues from Lima,
the observations the ships had taken respecting lee-way, winds, and
the variation of the needle, also the bearing of the islands of Las
Marquesas de Mendoza. The ships closed, and the pilots said that,
owing to the clouds, they had not been able to take the sun for
three days; that they thought Las Marquesas de Mendoza bore N.N.E.;
and that after they had got the sun's meridian altitude they could
make a more formal report.
While this was going on land was sighted to the west, which, being
concealed by clouds, was near; and as it was late, all sails were
set. Night came on, and, having gone a short distance, a dark and thick
cloud rose in the north-east in three parts, which soon became one,
and made its way towards the ships with such speed and fury that all
began to seek for remedies against the evils that menaced them. The
ships, trembling, received the force of the storm, and went over on
their sides. The sea rose, and all were horrified. The lightning in the
air seemed to rend the heavens and blind the sight. Three thunderbolts
were heard to fall; the thunder was awful, the pouring rain terrible,
and the squalls of wind so violent that it seemed as if the least
damage would be the fall of the masts. The launch being close to,
her Pilot shouted in a hoarse voice: "The Capitana ahoy! Alter
course--ahoy! Luff up!" All was confusion, hurry, and noise. The
night was fearful, decision doubtful, and great the anxiety to know
whether the position of the ships was safe.
Our Father Commissary, with a cross in his hands, passed the whole
night conjuring the sea and winds. St. Elmo appeared, as the sailors
say, which they saluted with great devotion three times. In short, it
was a dark, confused, ugly, and long night which we passed, confiding,
after God, in the soundness of our ships and the stoutness of our
sailors. When the long-wished-for daylight came, we saw that our land
was an island surrounded by a reef. Neither port nor bottom could be
found, though sought for with care, as we were in want of water, and
for fuel we only had brushwood. Seeing that the island was so useless,
we left it for what it was; and, considering the night it had given us,
it would have been dear even if it had been a very good land instead
of a very bad one. This island was calculated to be 1,030 leagues from
Lima, 36 leagues round, in latitude 20° 30'. It was named St. Elmo.