Then there came the headlong plunge into the swirling sea, followed by an indefinite period of gasping oblivion.
Something that felt like a moving rock rose up beneath his feet.

He was driven clear out of the water and seemed to recognize a familiar object rising rigid and bright close at hand.

It was the binnacle pillar, screwed to a portion of the deck which came away from the charthouse and was rent from the upper framework by contact with the reef.
He seized this unlooked-for support with his disengaged hand.

For one fleet instant he had a confused vision of the destruction of the ship.
Both the fore and aft portions were burst asunder by the force of compressed air.

Wreckage and human forms were tossing about foolishly.
The sea pounded upon the opposing rocks with the noise of ten thousand mighty steam-hammers.
A uniformed figure--he thought it was the captain--stretched out an unavailing arm to clasp the queer raft which supported the sailor and the girl.