That boat's her own Jonah, sure--crews an' gear make no differ to her driftin'.

Jimmy Christmas! She'll etch loose in a flat ca'am." "We're well dear o' the fleet, anyway," said Disko, "Carrie Pitman an' all." There was a rapping on the deck.
"Uncle Salters has catched his luck," said Dan, as his father departed.
"It's blown clear," Disko cried, and all the fo'c'sle tumbled up for a bit of fresh air.

The fog had gone, but a sullen sea ran in great rollers behind it.

The "We're Here" slid, as it were, into long, sunk avenues and ditches which felt quite sheltered and homelike if they would only stay still; but they changed without rest or mercy, and flung up the schooner to crown one peak of a thousand grey hills, while the wind hooted through her rigging as she zigzagged down the slopes.
Far away a sea would burst in a sheet of foam, and the others would follow suit as at a signal, till Harvey's eyes swam with the vision of interlacing whites and greys.

Four or five Mother Carey's chickens stormed round in circles, shrieking as they swept past the bows.