Summary

John C. Hutcheson The White Squall: A Story of the Sargasso Sea

Almost as soon as the solar orb sank down below the horizon, which it did just before we turned away from the shore, the masts and spars of the Josephine, and each rope of her rigging, were all lit up by the sinking rays of light, their last despairing flash before their extinguishment in the ocean. At the same time, the hull of the vessel and every projecting point in the coast-line of the bay stood out in relief against the bright emerald-green tint of the sea. A moment afterwards, the darkness of night descended suddenly upon us like a vast curtain let down from heaven.
Source: Gutenberg

John C. Hutcheson The White Squall: A Story of the Sargasso Sea

Captain Miles’s mission after his sextant, however, was a vain quest to-day, for a mass of fleeting clouds were continually passing to and fro across the zenith, obscuring the heavens so much that not a single peep of the sun could be had either at noon or later on.
The wind now, too, began to come in violent gusts, striking the ship every now and then with a force that seemed to bury her in the water; while the sea got rougher and rougher, looking as angry as it was possible to conceive.
Source: Gutenberg

John C. Hutcheson The White Squall: A Story of the Sargasso Sea

The instant after, the wind shifted round to the opposite quarter, and then a series of squalls, hot and strong, seemed to assail us from almost every point of the compass at once.
“Hands shorten sail!” roared out Captain Miles again, using the palms of his two hands before his mouth for a speaking trumpet. “Be smart, men! Some of you brail up the spanker here and man the jib downhaul. Right! Now, away aloft the rest of you; we must have those topsails close-reefed. Cast-off the halliards—there—cheerily, men; that’s the way to do it!”
Source: Gutenberg

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