Here and there about the rigging a tremulous ball of orange haze showed where the ship's lanterns were swung.

Directly under him in the stern the screw snarled incessantly in a vortex of boiling water that forever swirled away and was lost in the darkness.

From time to time the indicator of the patent log, just beside him, rang its tiny bell.
Vandover drew his rug about him and went up to the main deck, dragging his shoelaces after him.

The wind was stronger here, but he bent his head against it and went on toward the smoking-room, for the idea had occurred to him that he could shut himself in there and pass the rest of the night upon the cushions; anything was better than returning to the cabin downstairs.
The deck was jerked away from beneath his feet, and he was hurled forward, many times his own length, against a companionway, breaking his thumb as he fell.

A second shock threw him down again as he rose; everything about him shook and danced like glassware upon a jarred table.