Higher and higher the wave rose, and then crashed down, and the boat shot forward, like an arrow, in the foam.

The fishermen rushed forward and caught it, those on board leapt out waist-deep; all were taken off their feet by the backward rush, but they clung to the sides of the boat, while the men at the head rope, with their heels dug deeply into the sand, withstood the strain, and kept her from being swept out again.
A few seconds, and the boat was left dry, and the next wave carried it high up on the beach, amid a loud cheer from the fishermen and lookers on; but there was no time to waste, for the next boat was close at hand.

Again, the rope was thrown to the shore, but this time the strain came a moment too late, the following wave turned the boat round, the next struck it broadside and rolled it, over and over, towards the shore.

The fishermen, in an instant, joined hands, and rushing down into the water, strove to grasp the men.
Several times, those in front were knocked down and rolled up on the beach, but three of the crew were brought in with them.

There was one still missing, and there was a shout as he was seen, clinging to an oar, just outside the line of breakers.