We were only boys, the boat was a heavy one and stood well out of the water, and as we pulled the wind had tremendous power over our oars.

In fact all we did was to keep the boat's head straight to the wind, and so diminished the violence of its power over us, while of course this was the best way to meet the waves that seemed to come directly off the shore.
"Come and pull now, Bob," I shouted after tugging at the oar for a long time.

My feeling of chilliness had passed away, and I was weary and breathless with my exertions.
I kept on pulling while Bob came to my side, and as he took the oar I gradually edged away and crept under it to go and take the place where he had crouched.
It was a black look-out for us; for it was already growing dim, and we knew that in half an hour it would be quite dark.

The wind was still rising and the sea flecked with little patches of foam; while, as I looked towards the Gap, I could not help seeing with sinking heart that not only were the high rocks growing dim with the shades of the wintry night, but with the distance too.
You know how quickly the change comes on from day to night at the end of December.

You can imagine, then, in the midst of that sudden storm, how anxiously I watched the shore, and tried to persuade myself that we were getting nearer when I knew that we were not.
If I had had any doubt about it, Bigley, who had been used to sea-going from a little child, put an end to it by suddenly shouting: "It's of no good; we are only drifting out.