"I am used to rowing--of a sort." So he let down the sail, and they began to row.

For ten minutes or so they struggled against the ever-rising gale.

Then Morris called to her to ship oars.
"It is no use exhausting ourselves, Miss Fregelius," he said, "for now the tide is on the ebb, and dead against us, as well as the wind." "What are you going to do ?" she asked.
Morris glanced back to where a mile behind them the sea was beginning to foam ominously over the Sunk Rocks, here and there throwing up isolated jets of spray, like those caused by the blowing of a whale.
"I am going to try to clear them," he said, "and then run before it.
Perhaps we might make the Far Lightship five and twenty miles away.

Help me to pull up the sail.

So, that's enough; she can't stand too much.