He had been foolhardy and headstrong in his determination to continue to Fort Pelican.

He realized this now even more fully than Andy and Jamie.
David was a good seaman and fearless, with a full measure of faith in his skill.

Now that his eyes were open to the peril in which he had placed them, he knew that all the skill he possessed and perhaps more would be required to take them safely into shelter.
Comfort Island with its offer of snug harbour lay a half mile to leeward.

David brought the boat before the wind, and headed directly for the island.
Great breakers, pounding the high, rockbound shores of Comfort Island, and booming like cannon, threw their spray a hundred feet in the air, enveloping the island in a cloud of mist.
Stretching away from the island for a mile to the westward was a rocky shoal known as the Devil's Arm.

At high tide, in calm weather, it might be crossed, but now it was a great white barrier of roaring breakers rising in mighty geysers above the sea.
To the eastward of the island was a mass of black reefs known as the Devil's Tea Kettle.