It was very foggy during the forenoon - we were up early, had breakfast, and the two ferry boats, Patuxent, Pond Curlew came alongside. We all got out, with arms and equipments - our company getting on to the Patuxent. They were both fast to the Cossack, and worked and pushed and crashed each others sides at a desperate rate for a half hour. We began to fear that it would not move. While we were watching it listlessly, both boats fell back & raised together, and lifted the Cossack right off - We held our breath awhile to be sure it was moving - we saw all the other ships must be moving or else our long-hoped release had come - she moved sure, and we gave three hearty cheers. A little regardless perhaps in the delirium of moving again, the stem of the Patuxent struck a hole in our stern; it was crowded with men - one was knocked off his feet and jumped into the light boat - another pitched after him - The extent of the damage, however, was in [trawing?] back of a musket, and breaking off the front teeth of one of our men Hugh McClure, but it was a very narrow escape. We dropped astern and then hauled up to a schooner & lashed fast. We watched them unloading the horses from the Peabody. It was anchored about 57 yards from shore - the horses pushed off the ship tumbling down 4 of 5 feet until they reached the water, & men in a boat lead them by a rope to shore - It seemed a cruel way of doing it, but was accomplished safely. They were trotted around on shore, until there was no danger of chill. The Capt of the Patuxent is named Bennet, a short red faced man. The three Ferry Boats Curlew, Pilot-boy were chartered at Philadelphia by the Government to go to Port Royal and put in here on account of [?] of weather, & Burnside put them in to service. He used to run the Keystone state. He said he had been on this coast 16 years, and never knew such a week of such weather as last week. About 11 o'clock we got back to our home in the Cossack. Our Captain Burnside, Reno & the Pilot were sounding the channel across the swash this afternoon. I spent the afternoon reading. Some men from the Pocahontas came in the evening. They were wrecked about 15 miles above Hatteras light-house. Their boiler gave out during the storm, anchored and dragged on shore - out of 120 horses save 17 - All the men were saved. The Pilot told me this evening that it is 52 miles to Roanoke Island - that any vessel that can cross teh swash would go up the Sound - but the rebels had taken up all the light Boats and buoys. The name swash is probably a contraction of sea-wash. We are anchored just inside the inlet, but before we can get into the sound there is the swash - a shoal of sand yet to cross. We have a sea-shell mania. Parties go out to the shore and collect shells - some are very beautiful - some are lucky dogs and find nice ones. Others come in with a batch of very common looking shells. They will be probably carried far Sunday January 19, 1862 or lost long before they get home - but they serve to fill the hour - the tedious monotonous hours. I find I have injured my eyes reading in this dark cabin - I long to get back to my canvass home. We had a New York Tribune today which states that the [John Trucks?] which had the Zouaves on board, put back to Fortress Monroe.
