Soon we could see the lower hills along the coast, with sheer, black cliffs, and a fringe of climbing foam at their feet, which was disquieting enough as we headed straight for them.

We forgot the other ship in that sight, as we looked in vain for some gap in the long wall which stretched across our course.

Only in one place, right ahead, the breakers seemed nearer, and as if there might be shelving shore on which they ran, rather than shattering cliffs on which they beat.
And presently we knew that between us and the shore lay an island, low and long, rising to a green hill toward the mainland, but seeming to end to the seaward in a beach which might have less dangers for us than the foot of the cliffs beyond.

So far as we could make out from the deck, the strait between this island and the mainland might be two miles wide, or a little less.
"If only we could get under the lee of that island we were safe," said Bertric to me.

"It would be calm enough to anchor." "We can but try it," I answered.
And with that we luffed a little, getting the island on our port bow, but it was of no use.