We fell in with the cape [Virgin] on the 18th of August, in a very thick fog, and that same night came to anchor ten leagues within the straits’ mouth.  The 19th we passed the first and second narrows, doubled Cape Froward on the 21st, and anchored on the 22d in a cove, or small bay, which we named Savage Cove, because we here found savages.  Notwithstanding the excessive coldness of this place, yet do these people go entirely naked, living in the woods like satyrs, painted and disguised in a strange manner, and fled from us like so many wild deer.  They were very strong and agile, and threw stones at us, of three or four pounds weight, from an incredible distance.  We departed from this cove on the 24th in the morning, and came that same day into the N.W. reach of the straits, which is its last or most western reach.  On the 25th we anchored in a good cove, within fourteen leagues of the South Sea, where we proposed to await the return of our general, as the strait at this place is only three miles broad, and he could not possibly pass unseen.

After we had remained here a fortnight, in the depth of winter, our victuals fast consuming, and our salted seals stinking most vilely, our men fell sick and died pitifully, through famine and cold, as most of them had not clothes sufficient to defend them from the extreme rigour of winter.  In this heavy distress, our captain and master thought it best to depart from the straits into the South Sea, and to proceed for the island of Santa Maria in lat. 37 deg.  S. on the coast of Chili, which is situated in a temperate climate, where we might find relief, and could wait for our general, who must necessarily pass by that island.  We accordingly set sail on the 13th September, and came in sight of the South Sea.  The 14th we were driven back into the straits, and got into a cove three leagues from the South Sea.  We again stood out, and being eight or ten leagues free of the land, the wind rose furiously at W.N.W. and we were again forced to return into the straits, not daring to trust to our sails in any stress of weather.  We again got into the cove, three leagues from the eastern mouth of the straits, where we had such violent weather that one of our two remaining cables broke, and we were almost in despair of saving our lives.  Yet it pleased God to allay the fury of the storm, and we unreeved our sheets, tacks, halyards, and other ropes, and made fast our ship to the trees on shore, close by the rocks.  We laboured hard to recover our anchor again, which we could not possibly effect, being, as we supposed, entirely covered over in the ooze.