But though we kept it moistened with brine, one of the plank-ends started from its place; and the sharp, sudden sound, breaking the scorching silence, caused us both to spring to our feet.

Instantly the sea burst in; but we made shift to secure the rebellious plank with a cord, not having a nail; we then bailed out the boat, nearly half full of water.
On the second day of the calm, we unshipped the mast, to prevent its being pitched out by the occasional rolling of the vast smooth swells now overtaking us.

Leagues and leagues away, after its fierce raging, some tempest must have been sending to us its last dying waves.

For as a pebble dropped into a pond ruffles it to its marge; so, on all sides, a sea-gale operates as if an asteroid had fallen into the brine; making ringed mountain billows, interminably expanding, instead of ripples.
The great September waves breaking at the base of the Neversink Highlands, far in advance of the swiftest pilot-boat, carry tidings.
And full often, they know the last secret of many a stout ship, never heard of from the day she left port.

Every wave in my eyes seems a soul.
As there was no steering to be done, Jarl and I sheltered ourselves as well as we could under the awning.