actually broken already.

In this distress, the mate of our vessel lays hold of the boat, and with
the help of the rest of the men they got her slung over the ship's side,
and getting all into her, let go, and committed ourselves, being eleven
in number, to God's mercy and the wild sea; for though the storm was
abated considerably, yet the sea went dreadful high upon the shore, and
might well be called _den wild zee_, as the Dutch call the sea in
a storm.

And now our case was very dismal indeed; for we all saw plainly, that
the sea went so high, that the boat could not live, and that we should
be inevitably drowned. As to making sail, we had none, nor, if we had,
could we have done any thing with it; so we worked at the oar towards
the land, though with heavy hearts, like men going to execution; for we
all knew, that when the boat came nearer the shore, she would be dashed
into a thousand pieces by the breach of the sea. However, we committed
our souls to God in the most earnest manner; and the wind driving us
towards the shore, we hastened our destruction with our own hands,
pulling as well as we could towards land.

What the shore was, whether rock or sand, whether steep or shoal, we
knew not; the only hope that could rationally give us the least shadow
of expectation, was, if we might happen into some bay or gulf, or the
mouth of some river, where, by great chance, we might have run our boat
in, or got under the lee of the land, and perhaps made smooth water. But
there was nothing of this appeared; but as we made nearer and nearer the
shore, the land looked more frightful than the sea.

After we had rowed, or rather driven about a league and a half, as we