August 8, 1834
At daybreak we were [at Le] Havre. The mainsail was taken down, the topsails aback: nous étions en cape [we were at the cape]. The wind blew very strongly, and the seas ran fairly high.
We had to lie there until ten thirty, when there was enough water [depth] to enter the harbor. On the coast at [Le] Havre there is a deep bay [where] the Seine has its outlet. On the promontory to the left is a high, steep, reddish bank where two lighthouses stand side by side. [Le] Havre itself could not be seen. The opening to the harbor lay hidden behind the cape. While the topsails were set facing each other—to keep [us] at this spot—the signal flag of the Union Havre Packet Line was hoisted on the mainmast—white, with a large black U on it-—and on the foremast [was] the pilot’s [flag]—-blue, red, and white—-with his letter G.
The wind was blowing at gale force; we [therefore] carried only [a] few sails. Several ships, among them two French [vessels] coming from Guadeloupe or Martinique, a brig, and a three-master, sailed by us. We saw perhaps 30 to 40 smaller ships in the Channel; the light, pale-green water carried white foam on its waves.
All the passengers were very busy putting their luggage in order on the ship, and we exchanged addresses, since we had made many pleasant acquaintances. The cables were put in order and laid out on [the] deck of the ship, ready to [drop] anchor. As on all large ships, one of them is a heavy iron chain. The passengers waited with impatience on deck [for] the hour of docking while the heavy wind buffeted us back and forth.
Finally the pilot checked his watch and called out that we [would now] go in. It was past ten o’clock. The sails were quickly set, and our ship hurried toward the harbor, raising itself up high and diving down [in the rough seas]. A large crowd of people had gathered on the jetty or pier that protruded into the sea—-it was black with people. The waves rose high and broke against [the jetty] with a thunderous roar. Several small ships entered ahead of us. One [ship] that wanted to depart was pulled out from the harbor dam with ropes; it was in danger of being smashed to pieces on the rock dam by the angry waves. [That vessel] got in the way of our large ship (we were coming in carefully with [only a] few sails set) and could have easily been damaged. The harbor entrance at Havre—-like those at Calais, Boulogne, Dunkerque, Ostende, and all those harbors on the Channel-—is narrow and can only be entered at high tide. It does not compare with those magnificent, wide harbors of America, where [vessels] can go under full sail [right] up to the cities, [with] plenty of space and deep water everywhere. At eleven thirty the Havre dropped its anchor, and we were now securely in Europe, after having been absent from these shores for two years and two months.