,[68] however, with the ebb. About noon
a flute-ship[69] came near us which we hailed. She was from Amsterdam,
bound to Cadiz. It was so calm in the evening that we drifted, and
turned round several times. We perceived fifteen or eighteen large
ships on the French coast, which saluted each other with many heavy
guns. The ebb being spent, we came to anchor again in twenty-one
fathoms of water, about two miles from the shore. The flood having run
out by evening, we weighed anchor, and before we were under sail had a
fresh wind astern. We therefore set all the sail we could, having a
favorable wind and tide, by which means we came before Portland.

[Footnote 68: Durlston Head.]

[Footnote 69: A small long three-masted trading-ship.]

_5th, Wednesday._ We still had a fair wind and kept our course W. by
S. We passed Portland, and came in sight of Goutstar,[70] and arrived
off against it about noon. Our mate was of opinion that we had run by
the rock of Meeusteen or Jetston,[71] and should have it on the
larboard; but on looking out afterwards we found it right before us,
about four miles off. We had therefore to hold up and leave it on the
starboard. It is a large rock having its head just above the water. It
rises up straight, but is very much hacked, which makes it look like a
reef. Whenever the sea is rough it is under water. It is dangerous
enough, and lies far out in the channel, farther than it is marked
down on my chart. We certainly had reason here again to observe the
care of the Lord, and His protection through His good providence,
which always watches paternally over His children, shown in our
becoming aware of this rock before the evening, and just before the
evening, for we had not well gone by it before it was dark. If we had
been sailing so at night, or if we had not now discovered it, the
mate's calculation being as it was, we certainly should not have
missed sailing upon it; for when we first saw it, it was straight
before us, and we were sailing with a fair wind and tide up to it. We
were therefore touched, and thankful to the Lord. This passed, we
still, while the sun was going down clear, made Deadman's Head,[72] a
point jutting out from England, so that we reckoned we were still
twenty-eight or thirty-two miles from Falmouth Bay; but the wind had
fallen off somewhat. My calculation was, that we were about twelve or
sixteen miles from Falmouth.

[Footnote 70: Start Point.]

[Footnote 71: This danger