On arriving at the Stream we dipped up a bucketful of its water from alongside, and found it quite warm. A short time afterwards we repeated the experiment, and found a variation in the temperature. Thus, at intervals of fifteen minutes throughout our passage across it, we tested the water to the best of our ability; and although our thermometer could not be fully depended upon, yet the result was still decided enough to make me a convert to Professor Bache’s theory: that, the Gulf Stream is a series of belts of water, varying in temperature, instead of a body of water of uninterrupted equivalent warmth. On the following day we experienced one of those southeast gales, attended by fog, which are so common to the American coast in the month of March. As long as we felt satisfied that we had an offing, things went pretty well, and we rejoiced at the way the ship was making before the gale; although, in the absence of sun, moon, and stars, we had nothing by which to ascertain our whereabouts. At noon we spoke the brig Pilotfish, of Boston, and found that by her reckoning we were fifty miles farther to the westward than what our chronometer gave it; however, we felt pretty well satisfied as to our own correctness until night, when we shortened sail, (which throughout the day we had carried to the extent of the vessel’s ability,) and luffed to the wind, hove the lead, and sounded with the deep-sea line. At the same time the gale increased to a hurricane, and, as we could not see a ship’s length ahead, we were compelled, sorely against our inclinations, to heave the ship to for the night.