So we went cautiously along, and in ten minutes would have been past danger, at all events from the batteries on the fort, when one of the severest storms I ever remember of wind and rain, accompanied by thunder and lightning, came on, and enveloped us in a most impenetrable darkness.  Knowing that we were surrounded by most dangerous shoals, and being then in only fifteen feet water, I felt our position to be a very perilous one.  The pilot had by this time pretty well lost his head; in fact, it would have puzzled anyone to say where we were.  So we turned round and steered out to sea again, by the same way we had come in; and when we were as near as we could guess twenty miles from land, we let go our anchor in fifteen fathoms water.

Then came on a heavy gale of wind accompanied by a thick fog, which lasted three days and nights.  I never in my life passed such an unpleasant time, rolling our gunnels under, knowing that we were drifting, our anchor having dragged, but in what direction it was difficult to judge; unable to cook, through the sea we had shipped having put our galley-fire out; and, worse than all, burning quantities of coal, as we had to keep steam always well up, ready for anything that might happen.

One day it cleared up for half an hour about noon, and we managed to get meridian observations, which showed us that we had drifted thirty miles of latitude, but we still remained in ignorance of our longitude.  On the fourth day the gale moderated, the weather cleared up, and we ascertained our position correctly by observations.

When it was dark we steered for the light-vessel off Port Royal, meaning, as before, to make her our point of departure for the entrance of the river.  But we went on and on, and we could not see the glimmer of a light or even anything of a vessel (we found out afterwards that the light-ship had been blown from her moorings in the gale).  This was a nice mess.  The pilot told us that to attempt to run for the entrance without having the bearings of the light to guide us would have been perfect madness.  We had barely enough coals to take us back to Nassau, and if we had remained dodging about, waiting for the light-vessel to be replaced, we should have been worse off for fuel, of which we had so little that if we had been chased on our way back we should certainly have been captured.

So we started for Nassau, keeping well in shore on the Georgia and Florida coast.  Along this coast there were many small creeks and rivers where blockade-running in small crafts, and even boats, was constantly carried on, and where the Northerners had stationed several brigs and schooners of war, who did the best they could to stop the traffic.  Many an open boat has run over from the northernmost island of the Bahamas group, a distance of fifty miles, and returned with one or two bales of cotton, by which her crew were well remunerated.

We had little to fear from sailing men-of-war, as the weather was calm and fine, so we steamed a few miles from the shore, all day passing several of them, just out of range of their guns.  One vessel tried the effect of a long shot, but we could afford to laugh at her.