Slowly, elbow to elbow, the treasure bag between them, they made their way down toward the gates, atoms in a tide-rip of humanity, two streams of passengers meeting on the narrow strip of platform, the one making for the streets, the other for the suburbs.
We must get out of this current we can lick the niggers easy enough; but if we get into that tide-rip again, we'll be carried out of sight of the brigantine by midday." Plunging our paddles into the water, we sent our bamboo craft along till we were in absolute safety as far as the tide-rip was concerned. Then Yorke laid down his paddle.
The three boats were a mile away from our floe home at 2 p.m. We had made our way through the channels and had entered the big pool when we saw a rush of foam-clad water and tossing ice approaching us, like the tidal bore of a river. The pack was being impelled to the east by a tide-rip, and two huge masses of ice were driving down upon us on converging courses. The 'James Caird' was leading.
A landing was made at the mouth of the Columbia in March 1811, and eight lives were lost in an attempt to head small boats up against the tide-rip of river and sea. After endless jangling about where to land, where to build, how to build, the rude fort which Thompson saw had been knocked together. The Tonquin sailed up the coast of Vancouver Island to trade.
"Yes," he agreed, relief and triumph in his tone, "and drink something, too." "We'll drink to the health of 'Fingerless' Fraser." "To the health of 'Fingerless' Fraser," he echoed. "We will drink that standing." A week later, after an uneventful voyage across a sea of glass, The Bedford Castle made up through a swirling tide-rip and into the fog- bound harbor of Unalaska.
A pretty big bone though, seems to me. What? Yes, she has fallen afoul of the bubbling tide-rip there. It sets her the other way, too, for the time. Patience. It was now about noon, though, from the grayness of everything, it seemed to be getting towards dusk. The calm was confirmed.
They sailed out from Oonalaska on April 26 heading back toward Oomnak, where Medvedeff had anchored. In the straits between the different Aleutian Islands runs a terrific tide-rip. Crossing from Oonalaska to Oomnak, Korovin's ship was caught by the counter-currents and cross winds. Not more than five men were well enough to stand upon their feet.
Meantime, one moment turning to mark "Rover" fighting the tide-rip, and the next to see Don Benito approaching, he continued walking the poop.
She pushed it into the water and sprang into it, pulling against the tide-rip like one possessed. I darted after her, but she was already ten yards out when the boat swamped and was thrown back on the beach. Just as the undertow was sucking Rita away, I grabbed at her and dragged her to safety. "Let me go! Let me go!" she screamed, battering my chest. "It's Joe. It's my Joe. He's drowning."
Though weakened from loss of blood, the fugitives rowed with fury for the next spur of rock, ten miles away, where they hoped to find help. The tide-rip came out of the north with angry threat and broke against the rocks, but no blink of light shone through the dark from the Russian huts ashore. The men were afraid to land, and afraid not to land.