The steersman stands on his poop, or quarter-deck, just behind the miserable passengers, whose heads reach not quite so high as his knees.

His oar rests in a crutch on the top of the stern-post, and not only serves as a rudder, but gives him the power to slew or twist the boat round with considerable rapidity, when aided by the efforts of the rowers.

It is necessary for the steersman to wait for a favourable moment to enter the surf, otherwise the chances are that the boat will be upset, in the manner I shall describe presently.

People are frequently kept waiting in this way for ten or twenty minutes, at the back of the surf, before a proper opportunity presents itself.
During all this while, the experienced eye of the veteran skipper abaft glances backwards and forwards from the swell rolling in from the open sea, to the surf which is breaking close to him.

From time to time he utters a half word to his crew, with that kind of faint interrogative tone in which a commanding-officer indulges when he is sure of acquiescence on the part of those under him, and is careless whether they answer or not.