Explore "The Mistress of Bonaventure" by Harold Bindloss on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Again I hazarded a glance about me. The shallow-draughted craft had already drifted a distance off-shore, and was listing over under the pressure of the wind upon her lofty mast. The white ripples had grown to short angry surges, and because darkness was approaching and the narrow bay difficult to work into, it was evident we must lose no time in getting back again. There was no anchor on board, and if I reefed the sail (or rolled up the foot of it to reduce the area) the boat would meanwhile increase her distance from the beach. It therefore seemed necessary to attempt to thrash back under the whole mainsail.
"Will you shove the centerboard down by the iron handle, and then take hold of the tiller, Miss Haldane? " I said.