impossible for us to enter. Not liking the idea of again returning, I determined on
trying to anchor, and succeeded in doing so, in very deep water and close to the
reefs; but the prevailing winds were such that, should we not hold, we should
have no difficulty in getting out to sea. By the time the squall had passed, the
current had turned against us, and we expected to have to wait till four in the
afternoon, when we intended to enter the harbour.
Now, however, came the climax of our troubles. The swell produced by the
squall made us jerk our cable a good deal, and it suddenly snapped low down in
the water. We drifted out to sea, and immediately set our mainsail, but we were
now without any anchor, and in a vessel so poorly manned that it could not be
rowed against the most feeble current or the slightest wind, it word be madness
to approach these dangerous shores except in the most perfect calm. We had also
only three days' food left. It was therefore out of the question making any further
attempts to get round the point without assistance, and I at once determined to
run to the village of Gani-diluar, about ten miles further north, where we
understood there was a good harbour, and where we might get provisions and a
few more rowers. Hitherto winds and currents load invariably opposed our
passage southward, and we might have expected them to be favourable to us
now we had turned our bowsprit in an opposite direction. But it immediately fell
calm, and then after a time a westerly land breeze set in, which would not serve
us, and we had to row again for hours, and when night came had not reached the
village. We were so fortunate, however, as to find a deep sheltered cove where
the water was quite smooth, and we constructed a temporary anchor by filling a
sack with stones from our ballast, which being well secured by a network of
rattans held us safely during the night. The next morning my men went on shore
to cut wood suitable for making fresh anchors, and about noon, the current
turning in our favour, we proceeded to the village, where we found an excellent
and well-protected anchorage.
On inquiry, we found that the head men resided at the other Gani on the
western side of the peninsula, and it was necessary to send messengers across
(about half a day's journey) to inform them of my arrival, and to beg them to
assist me. I then succeeded in buying a little sago, some dried deer-meat and
cocoa-nuts, which at once relieved our immediate want of something to eat. At
night we found our bag of atones still held us very well, and we slept tranquilly.
The next day (October 12th), my men set to work making anchors and oars.
The native Malay anchor is ingeniously constructed of a piece of tough forked
timber, the fluke being strengthened by twisted rattans binding it to the stem,
while the cross-piece is formed of a long flat stone, secured in the same manner.