On the 12th of December we hove in sight of the mountain ranges of
Santos, and at 9 o'clock the same evening we reached a bay which the
captain took for that of the same name. Lighted torches were
repeatedly held over the vessel's side to summon a pilot; no pilot,
however, made his appearance, and we were therefore obliged to trust
to chance, and anchor at the mouth of the bay.
On the morning of the 13th a pilot came on board, and astonished us
with the intelligence that we had anchored before the wrong bay. We
had some trouble in working our way out, and anchoring about noon in
the right one. A pretty little chateau-like building immediately
attracted our attention. We took it for some advanced building of
the town, and congratulated one another on having reached our
temporary destination so quickly. On approaching nearer, however,
we could perceive no signs of the town, and learned that the
building was a small fort, and that Santos was situated in a second
bay, communicating with the first by a small arm of the sea.
Unluckily, the wind had by this time fallen, and we were obliged to
be at anchor all day, and it was not until the 14th that a slight
breeze sprang up and wafted us into port.
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