His first thought was that the ship had struck a rock, and then that she was bumping herself over a succession of coral reefs.

She dipped, dived, reared, and plunged.
Like a hooked fish, she flung herself in the air, quivering from bow to stern.

No longer was David of a mind to sue the filibusters if they did not put him ashore.

If only they had put him ashore, in gratitude he would have crawled on his knees.

What followed was of no interest to David, nor to many of the filibusters, nor to any of the Cuban patriots.
Their groans of self-pity, their prayers and curses in eloquent Spanish, rose high above the crash of broken crockery and the pounding of the waves.