I anxiously watched her battling up against wind and sea. It
would have been useless to take the 'James Caird' back to the
assistance of the 'Dudley Docker' since we were hard pressed to make
any progress ourselves in the heavier boat. The only thing was to go
ahead and hope for the best. All hands were wet to the skin again and
many men were feeling the cold severely. We forged on slowly and passed
inside a great pillar of rock standing out to sea and towering to a
height of about 2400 ft. A line of reef stretched between the shore and
this pillar, and I thought as we approached that we would have to face
the raging sea outside; but a break in the white surf revealed a gap in
the reef and we laboured through, with the wind driving clouds of spray
on our port beam. The 'Stancomb Wills' followed safely. In the
stinging spray I lost sight of the 'Dudley Docker' altogether. It was
obvious she would have to go outside the pillar as she was making so
much leeway, but I could not see what happened to her and I dared not
pause. It was a bad time. At last, about 5 p.m., the 'James Caird'
and the 'Stancomb Wills' reached comparatively calm water and we saw
Wild's beach just ahead of us. I looked back vainly for the 'Dudley
Docker'.
Rocks studded the shallow water round the spit and the sea surged
amongst them.
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