Summary

Portrait of Thomas Sigismund Stribling Thomas Sigismund Stribling The Cruise of the Dry Dock — The Last of the Vulcan (1917)

One minute the great structure would rise dizzily, high into the black blast, a skyscraper flung up on a mountain Madden could look far below on the lights of the struggling Vulcan. Up there the storm yelled and screamed at every corner and brace of the weltering dock, and wrenched at the midget helmsman. Then came the sickening drop, down, down, down, into the profound, and the Vulcan would swing far above her towering consort. For the instant the storm would be blanketed by the prodigious waves.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Thomas Sigismund Stribling Thomas Sigismund Stribling The Cruise of the Dry Dock — The Last of the Vulcan (1917)

Hogan saluted in the darkness and turned about for his cabin. Madden began a careful journey aft toward the wheel.
He fought his way to the ladder and climbed up into the night, sometimes clinging like a fly to the underside of the reeling wall, sometimes going up a steep slant. Gusts of spume and foam whipped him all the way up. Once on top of the wall, he clung to the inside rail and began pulling himself carefully around toward the rear bridge. At this height the full force of the wind almost tore him from his reeling anchorage.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Thomas Sigismund Stribling Thomas Sigismund Stribling The Cruise of the Dry Dock — The Last of the Vulcan (1917)

Without his force, tug and dock would part company instantly. Each watery mountain that he climbed, each gulf that he fathomed, was a victory over infinite odds.
However, if the man worked with subtlety, the sea likewise worked with subtlety. As the long hours of Madden's watch roared by, one thing was borne in on the youth: the rudder gradually was becoming harder to manage. Madden thought this was caused by the rising storm and strained more rigidly against the wheel.
Source: Wikisource

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