At least we would get firm land under our feet.

While the painter of the 'Stancomb Wills' tightened and drooped under my hand, my thoughts were busy with plans for the future.
Towards midnight the wind shifted to the south-west, and this change enabled us to bear up closer to the island.

A little later the 'Dudley Docker' ran down to the 'James Caird', and Worsley shouted a suggestion that he should go ahead and search for a landing-place.

His boat had the heels of the 'James Caird', with the 'Stancomb Wills' in tow.

I told him he could try, but he must not lose sight of the 'James Caird'.
Just as he left me a heavy snow-squall came down, and in the darkness the boats parted.