There were lights and the cheery glow of a fire in the "look-out," and we knew there must be plenty of sailors there.

But somehow at this time of night we did not care to be discovered even by our friends the sailors.
So we kept on, holding on to the chains, towards where the red light burned at the jetty-head.
We were too excited to be afraid.

One of those strange spirits of adventure had seized upon us which make boys ready for anything, and the thought of standing alone at midnight at the pier-head in a storm like that did not even dismay us.
But before we were half-way along we found that it was not the easy thing we imagined.

A huge wave struck the jetty behind the wall under which we crept, and next moment a deluge of spray and foam shot up and fell, drenching us to the skin.

And almost before we knew what had happened another and another followed.
We turned instinctively towards the "look-out," but as we did so a fourth wave, huger than all the rest, swept the jetty from end to end, and but for the chain, on to which we clung, we should have been washed off.
Our only chance was to run for the nearest shelter, and that was the lee of the tarpaulin-covered lifeboat, which lay up on its stocks, out of the reach of the spray, and seeming to us to offer as much protection ashore as it could do afloat.
Half a dozen staggering steps brought us to it.