“So far, our average speed had been 90 knots, indicating that we had a 12-knot favorable wind. At 1.24 the wind became less favorable and we came down to 1,000 feet. “At 5.45 we saw the first of the dawn. As it grew lighter all our worries appeared to have passed. The power-plant and everything else was running perfectly. The radio was working marvellously well. Messages were received from over 1,300 miles, and our radio officer sent a message to his mother in the States via Cape Race. “Cape Race, then 730 miles away, reported that the NC-3’s radio was working poorly. The NC-3 was ahead of the NC-1, and astern of us, we learned by intercepted messages. Each destroyer reported our passing by radio. “Sandwiches and coffee from the thermos bottles and chocolate candy tasted fine. No emergency rations were used. They require too great an emergency to be appreciated. I made several inspection trips aft and held discussions with the radio man and the engineer. Everything was all right. “At 6.55 we passed over a merchant ship, and at 8 o’clock we saw our first indications of possible trouble, running through light lumps of fog. It cleared at 8.12, but at 9.27 we ran into more fog for a few minutes. At 9.45 the fog became thicker and then dense. The sun disappeared and we lost all sense of direction. The compass spinning indicated a steep bank, and I had visions of a possible nose dive. “Then the sun appeared and the blue sky once more, and we regained an even keel and put the plane on a course above the fog, flying between the fog and an upper layer of clouds. We caught occasional glimpses of the water, so we climbed to 3,200 feet, occasionally changing the course and the altitude to dodge the clouds and fog. “We sent out a radio at 10.38 and at 10.55 to the nearest destroyer, thinking the fog might have lifted. We received replies to both messages that there was thick fog near the water. At 11.10 we ran into light rain for a few minutes. “At 11.13 we sent a radio to the destroyer and could hear Corvo reply that the visibility was ten miles. Encouraged by this promise of better conditions farther on, we kept going. Suddenly, at 11.27, we saw through a rift what appeared to be a tide-rip on the water. Two minutes later we saw the outline of rocks. “The tide-rip was a line of surf along the southern end of Flores Island. It was the most welcome sight we had ever seen. “We were 45 miles off our calculated position, indicating that the speed of the plane from the last destroyer sighted had been 85 knots. The wind was blowing us east and south. “We glided near to the shore and rounded the point. Finding that the fog stopped 200 feet above the water, we shaped our course for the next destroyer, flying low, with a strong wind behind us. We sighted No. 22 in its proper place at 12 o’clock. This was the first destroyer we had seen since we passed No. 16.