My first conjecture was right.
She makes for the principal port.

She lands a small parcel of letters and papers, a few bales of merchandise, half a dozen slightly-formed cadaverous men; and then, putting about, a gun is fired, and she is off again.

She soon disappears away upon the wide ocean; and the waves once more roll silently in--their glistening surface broken only by the flapping of the albatross or the plunge of the osprey.
-- ---------------------------------------------------------------------- I direct my eyes northward.

I behold a belt of white sand skirting the blue water.

I turn towards the south, and in this direction perceive a similar belt.