The waves rose in growing fury, each over-topping its fellow, till in a very few minutes the lately glassy sea was like a roaring and devouring monster.

White-crested waves beat madly on the level sands and rushed up the shelving cliffs.

Others broke over the piers, and with their spume swept the lanthorns of the lighthouses which rise from the end of either pier of Whitby Harbour.
The wind roared like thunder, and blew with such force that it was with difficulty that even strong men kept their feet, or clung with grim clasp to the iron stanchions.

It was found necessary to clear the entire pier from the mass of onlookers, or else the fatalities of the night would have increased manifold.

To add to the difficulties and dangers of the time, masses of sea-fog came drifting inland.