Then, holding the brim of his sou'-wester down before his face, the other hand on a life-line, Darrin cautiously made his way aft. The lines along the starboard side were secure.
At the stern stood two men, gripping the sturdy lines with both hands. Here the decks were flooded with seas coming over constantly.
Dave stood with the men for a few minutes, observing the combers that rolled against the stern, the tops breaking over the side.
"I'll have the stern watch changed every hour," he shouted at the seamen above the gale. "It's too wet to stand a full trick here. Remember, on coming off, or just before going on, to go to the galley and get your coffee."
"Thank you, sir," replied one of the men, touching the brim of his headgear.
Dave released the sternmost life-line to take a quick, oblique step toward the port lines. At that very instant a huge comber climbed aboard over the stern, the great bulk of water lifting Dave as though he were but a chip.
As he struggled for his footing he had a brief glimpse of one of the sailors battling toward him. Then a continuation of the wave carried him obliquely forward, lifting him clear of the port rail at the quarter and driving him over into the sea.
Instantly a hoarse yell rose and was repeated: "Commanding officer overboard astern, sir!"
