It is just here that Captain Trivett was knocked off the
bridge of his vessel by the boughs--a mishap he warned Tom against
before we left England.
Whilst in the Narrows we looked back, to see everything bright and
cheerful, but ahead all was black and dismal: the sky and sun were
obscured, the tops of the mountains hidden, and the valleys filled up
with thick fog and clouds--all which seemed to indicate the approach
of a storm of rain, although the glass was still very high. We went up
South Reach and North Reach, in the Messier Channel, till, just as we
were off Liberta Bay, in lat. 48 deg. 50' S., long. 74 deg. 25' W., the
blackest of the black clouds came suddenly down upon us, and descended
upon the deck in a tremendous shower--not of rain, but of _dust_ and
_ashes_. Windows, hatches, and doors were shut as soon as we
discovered the nature of this strange visitation, and in about half
an hour we were through the worst of it: whereupon dustpans, brooms,
and dusters came into great requisition. It took us completely by
surprise, for we had no reason to expect anything of the sort.
Assuming the dust to be of volcanic origin, it must have travelled an
immense distance; the nearest volcano, as far as we know, being that
of Corcovado, in the island of Chiloe, nearly 300 miles off.
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