bad weather ever since we started, not having had a single day of fair wind, was
very remarkable. My men firmly believed there was something unlucky in the
boat, and told me I ought to have had a certain ceremony gone through before
starting, consisting of boring a hole in the bottom and pouring some kind of holy
oil through it. It must be remembered that this was the season of the south-east
monsoon, and yet we had not had even half a day's south-east wind since we left
Waigiou. Contrary winds, squalls, and currents drifted us about the rest of the
day at their pleasure. The night was equally squally and changeable, and kept us
hard at work taking in and making sail, and rowing in the intervals.
Sunrise on the 2d found us in the middle of the ten-mile channel between
Kaióa and Makian. Squalls and showers succeeded each other during the
morning. At noon there was a dead calm, after which a light westerly breeze
enabled us to reach a village on Makian in the evening. Here I bought some
pumelos (Citrus decumana), kanary-nuts, and coffee, and let my men have a
night's sleep.
The morning of the 3d was fine, and we rowed slowly along the coast of
Makian. The captain of a small prau at anchor, seeing me on deck and guessing
who I was, made signals for us to stop, and brought me a letter from Charles
Allen, who informed me he had been at Ternate twenty days, and was anxiously
waiting my arrival. This was good news, as I was equally anxious about him,
and it cheered up my spirits. A light southerly wind now sprung up, and we
thought we were going to have fine weather. It soon changed, however, to its old
quarter, the west; dense clouds gathered over the sky, and in less than half an
hour we had the severest squall we had experienced during our whole voyage.
Luckily we got our great mainsail down in time, or the consequences might have
been serious. It was a regular little hurricane, and my old Bugis steersman began
shouting out to "Allah! il Allah!" to preserve us. We could only keep up our jib,
which was almost blown to rags, but by careful handling it kept us before the
wind, and the prau behaved very well. Our small boat (purchased at Gani) was
towing astern, and soon got full of water, so that it broke away and we saw no
more of it. In about an hour the fury of the wind abated a little, and in two more
we were able to hoist our mainsail, reefed and half-mast high. Towards evening
it cleared up and fell calm, and the sea, which had been rather high, soon went
down. Not being much of a seaman myself I had been considerably alarmed, and
even the old steersman assured me he had never been in a worse squall all his
life. He was now more than ever confirmed in his opinion of the unluckiness of
the boat, and in the efficiency of the holy oil which all Bugis praus had poured
through their bottoms. As it was, he imputed our safety and the quick