The next day (October 12th)， my men set to work ****** 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. These anchors when well made， hold exceedingly arm， and， owing to the expense of iron， are still almost universally used on board the smaller praus. In the afternoon the head men arrived， and promised me as many rowers as I could put on the prau， and also brought me a few eggs and a little rice， which were very acceptable. On the 14th there was a north wind all day， which would have been invaluable to us a few days earlier， but which was now only tantalizing. On the 16th， all being ready， we started at daybreak with two new anchors and ten rowers， who understood their work. By evening we had come more than half-way to the point， and anchored for the night in a small bay. At three the next morning I ordered the anchor up， but the rattan cable parted close to the bottom， having been chafed by rocks， and we then lost our third anchor on this unfortunate voyage. The day was calm， and by noon we passed the southern point of Gilolo， which had delayed us eleven days， whereas the whole voyage during this monsoon should not have occupied more than half that time.
Having got round the point our course was exactly in the opposite direction to what it had been， and now， as usual， the wind changed accordingly， coming from the north and north-west，--so that we still had to row every mile up to the village of Gani， which we did not reach till the evening of the 18th. A Bugis trader who was residing there， and the Senaji， or chief， were very kind； the former assisting me with a spare anchor and a cable， and ****** me a present of some vegetables， and the latter baking fresh sago cakes for my men； and giving rue a couple of fowls， a bottle of oil， and some pumpkins. As the weather was still very uncertain， I got four extra men to accompany me to Ternate， for which place we started on the afternoon of the 20th.
We had to keep rowing all night， the land breezes being too weak to enable us to sail against the current. During the afternoon of the 21st we had an hour's fair wind， which soon changed into a heavy squall with rain， and my clumsy men let the mainsail get taken aback and nearly upset us， tearing the sail； and， what was worse， losing an hour's fair wind. The night was calm， and we made little progress.
On the 22d we had light head-winds. A little before noon we passed， with the assistance of our oars， the Paciencia Straits， the narrowest part of the channel between Batchian and Gilolo.
These were well named by the early Portuguese navigators， as the currents are very strong， and there are so many eddies， that even with a fair wind vessels are often quite unable to pass through them. In the afternoon a strong north wind (dead ahead) obliged us to anchor twice. At nigh it was calm， and we crept along slowly with our oars.
On the 23d we still had the wind ahead， or calms. We then crossed over again to the mainland of Gilolo by the advice of our Gani men， who knew the coast well. Just as we got across we had another northerly squall with rain， and had to anchor on the edge of a coral reef for the night. I called up my men about three on the morning of the 24th， but there was no wind to help us， and we rowed along slowly. At daybreak there was a fair breeze from the south， but it lasted only an hour. All the rest of the day we had nothing but calms， light winds ahead， and squalls， and made very little progress.
On the 25th we drifted out to the middle of the channel， but made no progress onward. In the afternoon we sailed and rowed to the south end of Kaióa， and by midnight reached the village. Idetermined to stay here a few days to rest and recruit， and in hopes of getting better weather. I bought some onions and other vegetables， and plenty of eggs， and my men baked fresh sago cakes. I went daily to my old hunting-ground in search of insects， but with very poor success. It was now wet， squally weather， and there appeared a stagnation of insect life. We Staved five days， during which time twelve persons died in the village， mostly from ****** intermittent fever， of the treatment of which the natives are quite ignorant. During the whole of this voyage I had suffered greatly from sunburnt lips， owing to having exposed myself on deck all day to loon after our safety among the shoals and reefs near Waigiou. The salt in the air so affected them that they would not heal， but became excessively painful， and bled at the slightest touch， and for a long time it was with great difficulty I could eat at all， being obliged to open my mouth very wide， and put in each mouthful with the greatest caution. I kept them constantly covered with ointment， which was itself very disagreeable， and they caused me almost constant pain for more than a month， as they did not get well till I had returned to Ternate， and was able to remain a week indoors.
A boat which left for Ternate， the day after we arrived， was obliged to return the next day， on account of bad weather. On the 31st we went out to the anchorage at the mouth of the harbour， so as to be ready to start at the first favourable opportunity.
