A huge sea had 'come aboard green,' and sweeping pitilessly over the after part of the ship, had poured down on to the well-deck, flooding it to the bulwark-rail. The scuttles had jammed, the scuppers seemed also to be stopped up. The mass of water could find no vent, and its sheer weight had caused the inexplicable immobility of the ship.
The reason we had not seen it coming was that we had all been gazing over the starboard bow, where we knew the reef must lie. The wonder was that no one had been swept overboard.
It was several minutes before the ship would answer her helm again. But when she did, our spirits rose with a bound; for now, if we could only hold on upon a north-easterly course for a short time longer, we should be clear of the reefs for good and all. Fortunately, we had still several hours of daylight before us.
For two hours longer the Aud had to battle with the full fury of the storm. Again and again it seemed as if she must be overwhelmed. And always at the back of our minds there was the nightmare dread of the cargo shifting. Then, at last, the violence of the wind began to abate a little, and at the end of another hour the sea, too, had perceptibly moderated. The worst was over.
Also, we were in all probability clear of the danger zone, so that I could ease her by steaming at slow speed upon an easterly course. The compass, too, returned to its senses. Whether its vagaries were due to vibration set up by the shock of the seas, or to the influence of the magnetic iron in the reef—which is noted in the sailing-directions—we never knew.
By 5.30 that afternoon the lead had ceased to find bottom. We had cleared the eastern edge of the bank. I laid a course, for the present SSE. in order gradually to approach the steamer track on which, in my assumed character, it would be appropriate for me to be found.