Beginning to blow hard; taking in sails one after another .-- Three o'clock.

A perfect storm; the gale a few days ago but a gentle breeze to it....

I never witnessed so tremendous a gale; the wind blowing so that it can scarcely be faced; the sea like ink excepting the whiteness of the surge, which is carried into the air like clouds of dust, or like the driving of snow.

The wind piping through our bare rigging sounds most terrific; indeed, it is a most awful sight.

The sea in mountains breaking over our bows, and a single wave dispersing in mist through the violence of the storm; ship rolling to such a degree that we are compelled to keep our berths; cabin dark with the deadlights in.