The country all around this beautiful little harbor looked mountainous and extremely barren, and no one wanted to go on shore.
About dark we had made sufficient offing and turned northward, plowing through large fields of kelp.

The next morning the forward watch announced land ahead, which could dimly be seen as the fog rose.

The officers rushed on deck and could see not far ahead a sandy beach, and a moment more showed that we were headed directly for it, and that it was not more than a quarter of a mile away.

Quickly the helmsman was given orders to steer almost west instead of the north course he had been following.

He was asked why he kept on his north course when he saw danger ahead, and answered:--"It is my business to steer according to orders, even if the ship goes ashore, and I can not change course unless ordered to." The Captain now examined his chart and decided he was in San Pedro harbor, off Los Angeles.
The sun came out bright and clear a little later, and I got McCloud out of his bed and gave him a seat at the ship's side where he could see the green grassy hills near the beach, and larger hills and mountains farther back.