damp-darkened

Updated: May 15, 2025

"Morning, Mr Conyers," shouted Murgatroyd, halting alongside me as I stood gazing at the pallid blue sky across which great masses of cloud were rapidly sweeping to be outpaced by the low-flying shreds and tatters of steamy scud the opaque, muddy green waste of foaming, leaping waters, and the flying ship swaying her broad spaces of damp-darkened canvas, her tapering and buckling spars, and her tautly-strained rigging in long arcs athwart the scurrying clouds as she leapt and plunged and sheared her irresistible way onward in the midst of a wild chaos and dizzying swirl and hurry of foaming spume: "what think you of this for a grand morning, eh, sir?

Harry Collingwood - The Castaways