And it hid everything beyond the torn and tattered Union Jack at the bow.

Looking through the dripping windows was like looking through the glass side of an aquarium, for beyond it was a solid sheet of water.

Steve gazed anxiously from chart to compass under the electric lights and eased off to port.
"There's too much land around here," he shouted to Joe, "to leave me happy.

And, what's more, I'm none too certain just where we are at this blessed minute.

So it's the wide ocean for yours truly.