It was no more than a stiff blow, but to us, fighting for life in our frail craft, it was indeed a storm.
Cold and cheerless, the wind beating on our faces, the white seas roaring by, we struggled through the day.

Night came, but neither of us slept.
Day came, and still the wind beat on our faces and the white seas roared past.

By the second night Maud was falling asleep from exhaustion.

I covered her with oilskins and a tarpaulin.

She was comparatively dry, but she was numb with the cold.