Our sail out was very pleasant; but the wind had now grown strong, and being directly against us on our return--with our little knowledge of sailing--we were in bad quarters. We tossed about, and several times came near upsetting. We had to jerk down the sail, and at length learned to manage the rudder and to zigzag the boat; and about twilight we glided back through the gate into the bay. The wind was now roaring over the sea, and the waves rolled and tossed and churned it into foam; and it seemed to me that every time we came down we were going clear under. We here turned with the breeze again, and shot down through [Illustration: SAN FRANCISCO BAY.] the bay, with the tide, like an arrow. We ran down among the other vessels at the harbor and were lashed up against their sides and tossed helplessly about until eight o’clock, when we came up to the shore. We had not caught a fish, and boat-riding had ceased to be pleasant. The owner was very anxious about his boat; for he said he had lost several boats by greenhorns taking them out and getting capsized and sinking them. God knows we were as anxious to bring the boat in safely as he was. We had often thought and talked about swimming to the shore from wrecks on the ocean; but since we saw the waters we think swimming is but a faint hope; for when the breeze is so light that it is hardly noticeable the waters toss a foot high, and when the wind blows a little they roll several feet high, and at no time is the surface still and smooth. The tide goes out every morning and comes in every evening; and it is delightful to sit upon the beach when the pale beams of the sinking sun are kissing the waves, and see it come rolling in. Ridges of water about three feet high, reaching from right to left as far as the eye can reach and about one hundred yards apart, chase each other to the shore; and as they strike upon the breakers the spray is lashed high against the rocky beach and roars like a forest hurricane. I have sat here for hours, lost in reflection; and the spell was only broken by the falling of the twilight veil. There are persons here who make their living by fishing; and almost every day they set out for the mouth of the Sacramento River or the southern neck of the bay, and at night come back with their boats loaded with the most beautiful fish. I have seen sturgeon four feet long, and with heads as large as a man’s.