Read "Up the River" by Oliver Optic online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
I could not help thinking of the Islander as we lay at anchor off the pier in St. Augustine. As I looked at the angry billows outside, I understood what kind of a time Captain Blastblow was having. But if he handled his vessel well, and kept out of the breakers, I had no doubt he would come out of the trial all right. The wind had hauled still more to the southward, and even to the east of south. I was confident that the Islander, having the wind nearly dead ahead, would not make much headway against such a fierce wind.
About two o'clock in the afternoon, when we had finished our dinners, both in the after and the forward cabin, I saw a boat put off from the shore. The person in the stern sheets had a familiar look, though I did not recognize him till he came on deck.