At night the sea having increased, both steamers having burnt out a considerable portion of their coal, rolled deeply and heavily. We lost, by being filled with the sea, the captain’s gig from our stern-davits,—one of the prettiest and fastest boats in the squadron. The next morning, from the port wheel-house a handsome whale-boat was washed away with oars, sails, mast, and breaker. By mid-day it became apparent, that we were in a cyclone, or revolving-gale, and both ships were “wore” to stand out of it. On the 23d the gale having moderated, though the barometer still continued low, we proceeded on our course. This being the first very ugly weather that we had had since leaving home, landsmen had a fine opportunity of enjoying the comforts of a gale of wind—such as holding on to your basin with one hand, and performing the ablution with the other; waking up in the morning, with your shoes floating about, underneath your cot: at breakfast, the delight of a sticky, salty atmosphere is increased, by your chair sliding with you down to leeward with each roll, or, if attempting to grapple the table with one hand, a cup of tea precipitates itself inside of your vest, while you are attempting to secure your nicely-prepared eggs, that in a moment fresco the deck under foot; the saccharine is largely mixed with the saline, by the mingling contents of the sugar-bowl and saltcellar. This is the pleasurable experience of those, who “go down to the great deep in ships.” We reached the south end of Loo-Choo, on the evening of the 24th, but the weather being thick and foggy, could not run into the roads, so stood off during the night. This day we recorded the occurrence of the first death—one of the men, who contracted a fever on board of the Chinese junk lost at the mouth of the Yang-tse-kiang. He was buried the next day in the foreigners’ grove at Tumai. On running into Napa-roads the next day, we had some hopes of finding there the steam-frigate, Powhatan, of whose sailing from the United States we had intelligence, but were disappointed. The Supply lay there alone. From her officers we learned, that the cyclone, that we were in, had been felt with great force at Loo-Choo. They had not only to let go all their anchors, but had also slung some of their carronades to prevent the ship’s dragging on the reefs.