It sounded like the rattle of some immense factory; yet a voice was audible through the din, for Hozier was telling her not to abandon hope, as the fore part of the ship was firmly wedged into a cleft in the rocks: they might still have a chance when the tide dropped.
So that explained why it was so dark where a few moments ago all was light.

Iris pressed the salt water out of her burning eyes, and tried to look up.

On both sides of the narrow triangle of the forecastle rose smooth overhanging walls, black and dripping.

They were festooned with seaweed, and every wave that curled up between the ship's plates and the rocks was thrown back over the deck, while streams of water fell constantly from the masses of weed.

She gasped for breath.