The day broke with an appearance of fine weather; patches of blue sky peeped between the heavy masses of clouds, and expanding as the day advanced, left us at sunset with a cloudless vault of blue overhead. The barometer was lower throughout the whole of this day than it had been at all, being at two P.M. 29.91. When this strange weather first began I was disposed to consider it to be of the same character as that which I had before observed to occur within a few days of the change of the moon. But its duration and occasional violence led me to think otherwise, and I afterwards found my conclusions to be correct; as at this very time a hurricane visited Port Essington, distant 270 miles, in a North 30 degrees East direction.* (*Footnote. The following account of the effects of this hurricane at Port Essington is from the pen of Captain Stanley, and has been published in the Nautical Magazine for September 1841. Monday 25th. A strong breeze set in from the south-east with drizzling rain, but as the barometer remained at 29.90, its usual point, and similar weather had been experienced at the change of the monsoon in 1838, nothing was apprehended, more particularly as the wind moderated (as had been expected) at sunset. Between seven and eight o'clock the wind drew round to the southward, and the barometer began to fall rapidly: at ten it blew furiously from the same quarter, and the barometer was as low as 29.10; many of the trees were blown down at this time. At midnight the wind drew round to the eastward, and blew a perfect hurricane, before which nearly everything gave way; the trees came down in every part of the settlement; the marines' houses were all blown down; the church, only finished a week, shared the same fate: the barometer fell to 28.52. About two A.M. the wind shifted suddenly to the northward, from which point for about half-an-hour, its fury was tremendous; the government-house, built on stone piers, was blown away from them to a distance of nine feet; the sea rose ten feet and a half, by measurement afterwards, above the usual high-water mark. H.M.S. Pelorus, having parted her cables, was driven on shore, and thrown over on her beam ends, on the north-east point of the settlement, where heeling over 82 degrees, her starboard side was buried nine feet in the mud, leaving the keel three feet clear of the ground.** At daylight the barometer rose slowly to 29.90, the gale moderated, and the sea went down so fast, that between seven and eight we were able to send a boat to the assistance of the Pelorus: after eight the breeze continued to blow strong from the northward for two days, with heavy rain.