1 62 POPULAR SCIEiXCE MONTHLY. 



Chapman, our skipper; Mr. Deans, our guide; Mr. Allen, and 

 myself. 



Upon looking at a map of this region it would seem that the 

 voyage from Port Simpson to Masset ought to be made with no diffi- 

 culty, but Masset is almost seventy miles due west from Port Simp- 

 son, and the prevailing wind hereabout is from the west, and it 

 blows with such force and persistency that Masset must be reached 

 in a roundabout way. Long experience has taught that it is best 

 not to attempt to make a direct passage, and that time is saved by 

 sailing from one island to another along southern Alaska until 

 Point Chacon or even Cape Muzon is gained. From either of these 

 two points Masset is reached usually with but little difficulty. An- 

 other reason in favor of this circuitous route is the fact that out 

 from the northeast corner of Graham Island projects a long sand bar, 

 many miles in extent and known as Rose Spit. Over this long, low- 

 lying reef the water breaks with great fury and the tide currents are 

 almost irresistible. Pose Spit is the terror of the ISTorthwest coast, 

 and many are the schooners and canoes which have met an untimely 

 end on its treacherous sands. 



All this we knew when we set forth from Simpson at noon on 

 July 3d, but little did we realize what all this meant. There cer- 

 tainly was nothing auspicious in our departure, as we started forth in 

 the midst of a fog and drizzling rain, and after six hours we had only 

 made ISTorth Dundas Island, not more than fifteen miles from Simp- 

 son. But, notwithstanding the fickle wind and the drizzling rain, 

 the evening and night were happily spent. We had left behind us 

 steamships and tow^ns and civilization, conventionalism and restraint ; 

 Ave were now fairly out of the world. We were to see no boat but our 

 own, nor a living being save at Masset. 



On the following morning we were to make our first acquaint- 

 ance with a specimen of the tides of this region. An early start had 

 been our plan and our hope, and to this end we had our boat loaded, 

 were all al)oard, had one sail up, and were ready to push off, but the 

 Janet wouldn't push. When a tide has to fall twenty-two feet 

 within two hours it can't afford to lose any time, and consequently 

 it did not wait for us, and the Janet was hard aground and firm as 

 a rock, and so we waited for the turn of the tide; we waited just 

 five hours. 



On account of this mishap the best we could do that day was to 

 make Cape Fox, but that was not without some compensation, for we 

 thus spent the night of July 4th on Alaskan soil. By two o'clock on 

 the following day we had gained Cape Northumberland and were 

 snugly anchored in a cove on Kelp Island. The weather now was all 

 that we could possibly wish, the sky was as clear as crystal, and far 



