On the 15th of May 1832, the island of Porto Santo, in latitude 35° 5′ north, longitude 16° 5′ west, was seen bearing south-west, half-south, at the distance of forty miles from the ship “Brothers,” Captain Towns, bound to New South Wales, eleven days having elapsed since leaving Plymouth, from whence we had taken our departure. The appearance of the island, when we had reached to within seven or eight miles of it, was generally barren, varied by an occasional verdant patch scattered over the rugged rocks, which terminated in steep cliffs to the water’s edge. On the following morning at daylight, the dark towering land of Madeira was visible, rising like a huge black mass from the blue water. By eight A.M. we were in the passage between the south-east side of Madeira and the group of islands known as the Desertas, sailing, with a light and agreeable breeze, from the eastward, which enabled us to have an excellent view both of the former islands and Madeira; and as our progress seemed to be quicker than would have been expected from our gentle zephyrs, we were probably also aided by a current. The passage between the Desertas and Madeira is considered to be about eleven miles across. The Desertas stretch nearly north-north-west and south-south-east, and may be five leagues in extent; they have an abrupt, barren appearance, with steep, rugged, perpendicular rocks descending to the sea; on the largest island there was some appearance of cultivation, and the tufa, or red volcanic ash, imparts that colour to several parts of the island; there is a high pyramidal rock, resembling a needle or pillar, situated about the north-west part of the group, which at a distance is like a ship under sail. By eight A.M. the heat of the sun had dissipated the gloomy mist which had previously been pending over and concealing the beautiful features of the island of Madeira, and caused it to burst forth in all its luxuriance and beauty; the northern part of the island had a very sombre, barren aspect, when compared with the fertility of the southern; the plantations, glowing in varied tints, interspersed with neat white villas and small villages, gave much animation and picturesque beauty to the scene. Early in the morning is the time best calculated to view the island clearly, as the sun, gradually emerging from the dense masses of clouds which have previously enveloped the towering mountains, gilds their summits, and, gradually spreading its rays over the fertile declivities, enlivens and renders distinct the splendid prospect afforded to the voyager. As the sun, however, acquires a stronger power, its proximity to a wide expanse of waters soon causes a mist to arise by which the clearness of the view from the sea is much obstructed. As we approached, the town of Funchal opened to our view, the white habitations rising like an amphitheatre, and the hills around, covered by the variegated tints of a luxuriant vegetation: the whole appearance of the island was such, as to be well calculated to excite the most agreeable sensations of delight at any time, but more especially after the eye has enjoyed for a time only the prospect of sea and sky. As it was not our intention to touch at this island, in the course of the day we had passed and left it far in the distance. We spoke off the island one of Don Pedro’s blockading squadron; it was a brig mounting eighteen guns, filled with such a motley crew as one may expect to see in a piratical craft. The spokesman informed us that Don Pedro was with Admiral Sartorius, in a large ship off the north side of the island: we then parted; they wishing us “un bon voyage,” and we, in return, hoped they might obtain abundance of prize money, but which we hardly supposed would ever be realized.