effect a landing, for we were sadly in need of fresh water
and food.

According to my observations, we were just off Ram Head, and
it was my intention to enter Plymouth Bay and visit
Plymouth. From my map it appeared that this city lay back
from the coast a short distance, and there was another city
given as Devonport, which appeared to lie at the mouth of
the river Tamar.

However, I knew that it would make little difference which
city we entered, as the English people were famed of old for
their hospitality toward visiting mariners. As we
approached the mouth of the bay I looked for the fishing
craft which I expected to see emerging thus early in the day
for their labors. But even after we rounded Ram Head and
were well within the waters of the bay I saw no vessel.
Neither was there buoy nor light nor any other mark to show
larger ships the channel, and I wondered much at this.

The coast was densely overgrown, nor was any building or
sign of man apparent from the water. Up the bay and into
the River Tamar we motored through a solitude as unbroken as
that which rested upon the waters of the Channel. For all
we could see, there was no indication that man had ever set
his foot upon this silent coast.

I was nonplused, and then, for the first time, there crept
over me an intuition of the truth.