The squadron passed through Lemaire's Strait on the 7th of March, 1741. "We could not help persuading ourselves," writes Anson, "that the greatest difficulty of our voyage was now at an end, and that our most sanguine dreams were upon the point of being realized; and hence we indulged our imaginations in those romantic schemes which the fancied possession of the Chilian gold and Peruvian silver might be conceived to inspire. Thus animated by these flattering delusions, we passed those memorable straits, ignorant of the dreadful calamities which were then impending and just ready to break upon us,--ignorant that the time drew near when the squadron would be separated never to unite again, and that this day of our passage was the last cheerful day that the greater part of us would ever live to enjoy." The sternmost ships were no sooner clear of the Strait, than the tranquillity of the sky was suddenly disturbed, and all the presages of a threatening storm appeared in the heavens and upon the waters. The winds were let loose upon the unfortunate fleet, and for three long months blew upon them with unrelenting fury. The Severn and Pearl parted company and were never seen again. During the month of April, forty-three of the crew of the Centurion died of the scurvy; and during the passage from the Strait to the island of Juan Fernandez the flag-ship lost, by this disease, by accident, and by tempest, two hundred and fifty men; and she could not at last muster more than six foremast-men capable of doing duty. On the 22d of May, all the various disasters, fatigues, and terrors which had previously attacked the Centurion in succession now combined in a simultaneous onset, and seem to have conspired for her destruction. A terrific hurricane from the starboard quarter split all her sails and broke all her standing rigging, endangered the masts, and shifted the ballast and stores. The air was filled with fire, and the officers and men upon the decks were wounded by exploding flashes which coursed and darted from spar to spar. Thus crippled and disabled, with five men dying every day, and not ten of the crew able to go aloft, the Centurion, separated from her consorts, and supposing them to have perished in the storm, made the best of her weary way to the island of Juan Fernandez, where she arrived at daybreak on the 9th of June, after losing eighty more men from the scurvy.