On the 1st of November I called up my men at one in the morning， and we started with the tide in our favour. Hitherto it had usually been calm at night， but on this occasion we had a strong westerly squall with rain， which turned our prau broadside， and obliged us to anchor. When it had passed we went on rowing all night， but the wind ahead counteracted the current in our favour， and we advanced but little. Soon after sunrise the wind became stronger and more adverse， and as we had a dangerous lee-shore which we could not clear， we had to put about and get an offing to the W.S.W. This series of contrary winds and bad weather ever since we started， not having had a single day of fair wind， was very remarkable. My men firmly believed there was something unlucky in the boat， and told me I ought to have had a certain ceremony gone through before starting， consisting of boring a hole in the bottom and pouring some kind of holy oil through it.
It must be remembered that this was the season of the south-east monsoon， and yet we had not had even half a day's south-east wind since we left Waigiou. Contrary winds， squalls， and currents drifted us about the rest of the day at their pleasure. The night was equally squally and changeable， and kept us hard at work taking in and making sail， and rowing in the intervals.
Sunrise on the 2d found us in the middle of the ten-mile channel between Kaióa and Makian. Squalls and showers succeeded each other during the morning. At noon there was a dead calm， after which a light westerly breeze enabled us to reach a village on Makian in the evening. Here I bought some pumelos (Citrus decumana)， kanary-nuts， and coffee， and let my men have a night's sleep.
The morning of the 3d was fine， and we rowed slowly along the coast of Makian. The captain of a small prau at anchor， seeing me on deck and guessing who I was， made signals for us to stop， and brought me a letter from Charles Allen， who informed me he had been at Ternate twenty days， and was anxiously waiting my arrival. This was good news， as I was equally anxious about him， and it cheered up my spirits. A light southerly wind now sprung up， and we thought we were going to have fine weather. It soon changed， however， to its old quarter， the west； dense clouds gathered over the sky， and in less than half an hour we had the severest squall we had experienced during our whole voyage.
Luckily we got our great mainsail down in time， or the consequences might have been serious. It was a regular little hurricane， and my old Bugis steersman began shouting out to "Allah！ il Allah！" to preserve us. We could only keep up our jib， which was almost blown to rags， but by careful handling it kept us before the wind， and the prau behaved very well. Our small boat (purchased at Gani) was towing astern， and soon got full of water， so that it broke away and we saw no more of it. In about an hour the fury of the wind abated a little， and in two more we were able to hoist our mainsail， reefed and half-mast high.