Thus we remained, expecting death every moment till the light of day, a very dim light, struggling through a port-hole of which the iron cover had somehow been wrenched off.

Or perhaps it was never shut, I do not remember.
About this time there came a lull in the hellish, howling hurricane; the fact being, I suppose, that we had reached the centre of the cyclone.

I suggested that we should try to go on deck and see what was happening.
So we started, only to find the entrance to the companion so faithfully secured that we could not by any means get out.

We knocked and shouted, but no one answered.

My belief is that at this time everyone on the yacht except ourselves had been washed away and drowned.
Then we returned to the saloon, which, except for a little water trickling about the floor, was marvelously dry, and, being hungry, retrieved some bits of food and biscuit from its corners and ate.