Dunk Island, a little to the northward, is larger and higher, and is remarkable for its double-peaked summit.  No natives were seen in passing these islands, but the smoke of their fires, as usual, lined the coast, which here began to assume a more improved and favourable appearance:  the shore is diversified by projecting wooded hills and intervening sandy bays; and, at the back, the hills are very high and separated from each other by deep valleys, where there must be abundance of water and probably good soil.

In the evening the anchor was dropped to the eastward of the two southernmost islands of a group which was named after my friend Edward Barnard, Esquire.  We were followed all the afternoon by a large hump-backed whale, a fish which appears to be numerous on all parts of this coast within the reefs.  The wind blew so fresh during the night that having only the stream anchor down it had imperceptibly dragged through the mud for nearly a mile to the north-west.

June 22.

At daylight we got under sail but the weather had clouded in and bore a very unsettled appearance.  After steering outside the easternmost island of Barnard’s Group we passed Double Point; two miles north of which a small opening was seen trending in to the south-west.  Between Double Point and Frankland Islands Captain Cook did not see the coast, having passed it during the night; we therefore traced it with some care, but found nothing worth particular notice, being a continuity of sandy bays formed by projecting heads, in some of which natives were observed walking.

At 11 hours 30 minutes a.m. we passed Point Cooper.  The summit of the back hills (which were named by Mr. Cunningham’s desire after John Bellenden Ker, Esquire) now began to be enveloped in clouds, and the wind to increase; and no meridional altitude was obtained, from the unfortunate state of the weather.  At one o’clock we passed between Frankland’s largest Island and a group of four smaller ones which are connected together by a surrounding rocky reef.  At four o’clock we anchored in a bay on the north-west side of Fitzroy Island, at four miles from the shore, in eleven and a half fathoms’ mud, where we found complete shelter from the wind which now blew a fresh gale from south-east.

June 23.

The weather continued so unfavourable all the following day that we remained at the anchorage, and made our stay profitable by filling our water-casks from a hollow at the back of the beach, which is composed entirely of coral that has been washed up by the surf.  The coral was of various kinds, but a beautiful specimen of Porites clavaria was obtained by one of our people who dived for it in two fathoms’ water, within a few yards of the shore.  In many parts the coral had been consolidated into large masses of solid rock.