Don't take any chances.

Last man off see that this hatch is shut tight." He crawled around the stanchions on the starboard side and crept along to the bow, the others, huddled together on the sloping bridge, watching anxiously.

Then he slipped from sight.

Once they saw his head, or thought they saw it, a darker blot in the grey-green welter.

Joe was already creeping toward the bow, and, having reached it, he crouched there, blinded by rain and spray, and waited for the rope to tauten.