We got under way again on Monday morning, and reached St. Nicholas Bay by the evening of the 6th. Here we lay over all night, and on Wednesday morning continued our course westward until Thursday afternoon, when we came in sight of Wood’s Bay, Cape Holland. Cambiaso sent for me as we neared the harbor, and informed me that he intended to lie in this anchorage for some time. His object was to get some liquor out of an old French ship which had been wrecked there some time ago, and which still lay with the greater part above water. We came to anchor in the evening, and the next morning the soldiers were sent on shore to unload the wreck, and rescue what liquor was still untouched by the water. Some barrels and casks were brought out whole, and immediately transferred to the Florida; but many were stove in, either purposely or by accident, and then commenced a scene of drunken rioting and disorder which lasted for three or four days. Officers, men, sailors,--all were intoxicated; and Cambiaso and Garcia seemed to have as little control over them as I had. Indeed, the temptation sometimes proved too strong for Cambiaso himself; and Mr. Dunn, Garcia, and myself were almost the only men who preserved full possession of our senses. I remember one case in which I used my authority as master of the ship somewhat rashly. The occupant of one of the state-rooms, the doctor of the colony under governor Gamero, and a Frenchman, had drank enough to make him noisily troublesome, both in the cabin and on deck. At last he went out on the jib-boom, hallooing and shouting. I called to him to come in, but finding he paid no attention to me, I sent the only seaman I had on board out after him. This proved equally unavailing, and, losing all patience, I sprang out myself, collared him, and thrust him into his state-room. I fully expected that he would complain of me to Cambiaso, and that I might have to suffer for my rash assumption of authority; but I never heard from him again.