Ahead the angry gray water was broken by streaks of foam.
_Terrier_ rolled and quivered when her bows smashed a sea, and showers of spray beat like hail against the screens on the bridge.
"She's loggish," Brown remarked.

"If you don't burn up that coal soon, she'll wash it off.

Looks like a dirty night, and I'm pushing across for Lynas Point.

With the wind at south-west, I want to get under the Anglesey coast.

There'll be some sea in the channel when we open up Holyhead." "The boat's good," said Lister.