Half a cable's length astern followed the second boat, her sergeant-coxwain, unused to the science of navigation, although he knew how to handle a small craft, keeping station with the utmost fidelity. At that distance she was a mere indistinct grey wedge, her position chiefly indicated by the "bone in her teeth", otherwise the creamy froth leaping from her knife-like bows and thrown wide on either side by her pronounced flare.
Ahead the Bar Buoy winked its friendly greeting. No other light was visible in that quarter, and steering for that particular light was "not good enough", when on either hand of the narrow channel were dangerous sandbanks, on the fringes of which the surf was pounding heavily.
It was on this account that Derek kept looking astern. Over the bobbing canopy and beyond the fluttering ensign were two white lights, one several feet higher than the other, and actually four hundred yards apart. These were the only lights ashore, and were permitted when the exhibition of any other illuminant would result in a fine not exceeding £500. In short, they were the harbour leading lights, and as long as a mariner kept them in line, either when entering or leaving the fairway, he could carry on in absolute confidence, scorning the hidden dangers on either hand.
The Bar Buoy at last! Giving the boat starboard helm Derek swung her round until her head pointed due east. Already his cap and oilskins were running with moisture, and the salt spray was stinging his face and making his eyes smart despite the scanty protection afforded by the "dodger".
"Hardly so comfortable as my old 'bus," thought Daventry; "but it's jolly exhilarating. Now then, old lady, let's see how you take that one!"
"That one" referred to a crested "comber" that was bearing down towards the swiftly-moving boat. A slight touch on the helm and the fine bows swung round to take the advancing mass of water line on. Administrating a vicious slap to the wave the motor-boat lifted to the crested billow. Spray came hissing aft in solid sheets, pattering on the canvas canopy with a sound similar to that of peas being shaken in a wooden box. She was through, but immediately beyond was another wall of water.
Right down until her fore-deck ventilators were hidden plunged the boat. For a moment Derek thought she would never recover herself. The engine faltered. In a second the alert engineer was at the throttle and the "spark".
"Water on the mag, sir," he shouted. "I'll have to ease her."
"And about time," thought Derek. "Wonder if it's like this all the blinking way?"
But soon the boat entered smoother water. The breakers were on the weather side of the bar. Beyond was easier going.