He held the helm to the course indicated.

Silent and immovable he stood, as though sleeping on his feet; but at the right moment he always uttered the brief word of command.
He was very skinny, with the dried up leanness of the bronzed Mediterranean.

The salt wind more than his years had tanned his face, wrinkling it with deep crevices.

A capricious coloring had darkened the depths of these cracks while the part exposed to the sun appeared washed several shades lighter.

His short stiff beard extended over all the furrows and crests of his skin.