I can well understand how it was that Captain Cook in the first instance overlooked the entrance and stood on to the exposed shallow harbour of Botany Bay: now crowded with sharks, affording sport for gun or spear. There is a fine dock forming on Cockatoo Island, the advantage of which will be incalculable. We found the _Rattlesnake_, Captain Owen Stanley. Here I was in the midst of friends--Sir Charles Fitzroy, the Governor, with Lady Mary--his daughter, “little Mary,” now grown into the tall and handsome Hon. Mrs. Keith Stewart, mother of a charming family; also Captain Augustus Fitzroy, A.D.C., and George, Private Secretary; another brother, Arthur, was at sea. To the long and kind nursing of this family I owe my life, but from the way I was received it would appear that the debt of gratitude was due from them! [Illustration: Mæander _at Sydney._] Of that family there are none alive; the father and sons died in distant parts of the world, far from one another, as will hereafter appear. I was near each one of them at the end. While at luncheon some one remarked on the extraordinary noise caused by the ringing of a bell, near, or on board the _Mæander_. I exclaimed, I hoped not, as that meant fire. Looking from the window we saw dense masses of smoke issuing from the position of the after magazine. A youngster was running to inform me. The _Rattlesnake_ had slipped her cables to be out of the way. On board I found a scuttle cut through the gun-room deck into the bread-room to pour water, just big enough for me. I was nearly suffocated. We really had a narrow escape. The fire was subdued. The powder had been smartly removed, but the wood framing had, as in the case of the _Magicienne_, been burnt down to the copper-lining. [Sidenote: March.] During our refit we discovered the head of our mizen-mast to be rotten, and as there was a spar of same dimension in the _Anson_, convict ship at Hobart Town, which was originally made for the _Southampton_, I sent my trusty “First” to apply to the Governor of Van Dieman’s Land for permission to appropriate it. Sir Charles Fitzroy, who was going to make a short tour into the interior, not only kindly took me with him, but mounted me from his first-rate stable. As His Excellency rode some six stone more than I could boast of, I never knew what it was to ride a tired horse. While we rode, a light van conveyed our commissariat and luggage: certainly the most agreeable mode of seeing any country. While we were absent on this tour, a little more than a fortnight after our first arrival, the Naval Service sustained a sad loss by the sudden death of Captain Owen Stanley; it was necessary to despatch a messenger for my recall, as his papers could not be opened nor his body buried in the absence of the senior officer. We had for many years been acquainted, and I cannot help expressing here deep regret and sympathy with the many to whom he was so justly dear.