Stopping for breath now and then, with his back to the wind, Jake glanced
at the coast as the boat swung up with a sea. It made a hazy blur against
the brilliant sky, but his eyes were smarting and dazzled. There was a
confusing glitter all around him, and even the blue hollows they plunged
into were filled with a luminous glow. Still he thought they made
progress, though the launch was drifting to leeward fast, and he told
Dick, who headed her out a point or two.
"This is not the usual sea breeze; it's blowing really fresh," he said.
"Do you think it will drop at sundown?"
"I'm not sure," Dick replied, shading his eyes as he glanced at the
windward horizon.
"Then suppose it doesn't drop?"
"If the sea gets dangerous, we'll put the helm up and run for shelter."
"Where do you expect to find it?"
"I don't know," Dick admitted. "There are reefs and shoals along the
coast that we might get in behind."
Jake laughed. "Well, I guess this is a pretty rash adventure. You won't
turn back while you can see, and there are safer things than running for
a shoal you don't know, in the dark. However, there's a point one might
get a bearing from abeam and I'll try to fix our position. It might be
useful later."
Stooping beside the compass, he gazed at the hazy land across its card,
and then crept under the narrow foredeck with a chart. He felt the bows
sweep upwards, pause for a moment, and suddenly lurch down, but now the
sea was long and regular, the motion was rhythmic. Besides, the thud and
gurgle of water outside the boat's thin planks were soothing and
harmonized with the measured beat of the screw. Jake got drowsy and
although he had meant to take another bearing when he thought he could
double the angle, presently fell asleep.
It was getting dark when he awoke and crept into the cockpit. There was a
change in the motion, for the launch did not roll so much and the combers
no longer broke in showers of spray against her side. She swung up with a
swift but easy lift, the foam boiling high about her rail, and then
gently slid down into the trough. It was plain that she was running
before the wind, but Jake felt that he must pull himself together when he
looked aft, for there is something strangely daunting in a big following
sea. A high, white-topped ridge rolled up behind the craft, roaring as it
chased her, while a stream of spray blew from its curling crest. It hid
the rollers that came behind; there was nothing to be seen but a hill of
water, and Jake found it a relief to fix his eyes ahead. The backs of the
seas were smoother and less disturbing to watch as they faded into the
gathering dark. When the comber passed, he turned to Dick, who stood,
alert and highly strung, at the helm.