He could descry a figure sitting in the steersman's seat.

But by that ebbing light, he could discern only its blurred outline.
Before Gavin could resume his seat he was flung forward upon his face in the bottom of his scow.

The jar of the tumble knocked him breathless.

And as he scrambled up on hands and knees he saw what had happened.
Foolish is the boatman who runs at full speed in some of the southwestern reaches of Biscayne Bay--especially at dusk--without up-to-date chart or a perfect knowledge of the bay's tricky soundings.

For the coral worm is tireless, and the making of new reefs is without end.
The fast-driven launch had run, bow-on, into a tooth of coral barely ten inches under the surface of the smooth water.