Instead of landing he determined to blow up the ram.

When close to it he learned for the first time of the cordon of logs which surrounded the _Albemarle_, but, believing they were slippery enough from remaining long in the water to be passed, he sheered off, made a sweep of a hundred yards and again charged under full steam for the obstruction.
As he drew near the guards fired a volley which riddled Cushing's coat and tore off the sole of his shoe.
At the same moment he heard the vicious snapping of the primers of the huge guns, which showed they had missed fire.
"Leave the ram!" he shouted.

"We're going to blow you up!" The Confederates, however, did not follow the advice and the launch fired her howitzer.

Then she glided over the slimy logs and paused in front of the muzzle of a loaded cannon which could be almost reached with the outstretched hand.

Still cool and self-possessed amid the horrible perils, Cushing stood erect, lowered the torpedo spar, shoved it under the overhang, waited a moment for it to rise until he felt it touch the bottom of the ram, when he gave a quick, strong pull on the trigger line.