The men lift themselves up, clear their faces from the water, shake it from their clothes, and look at the vessel; they determine that, please God, they will yet save the crew. They give a cheer to encourage and give hope to the poor fellows, and without further thought of the dread danger they have but just escaped, prepare for another attempt. They hoist the sail quickly and get the boat's head round, and try and sheer her into the ship; but all their efforts are in vain, wave after wave breaks over them, the boat is tossed in all directions by the broken seas--sometimes the coxswain feels as if he would be thrown bodily forward on the men, as the waves lift the boat almost end on end. Again and again are boat and men overrun bodily by the rush of the waves, but the boat behaves splendidly, lifts buoyantly from under the weight of water; her undaunted crew bear up bravely, and all are once more ready for another struggle. They labour on, but without success; they cannot make their way back to the ship: they get the oars out, the waves and wind take them and send them leaping from the rowlocks, and out of the men's hands; they must give it up for this time. All their thoughts are for the poor shipwrecked crew, and the bitter--bitter disappointment they must feel. Again they cheer to them, and shout to them, to keep their hearts up--they will soon be at them again; and they make the best of their way back to the steamer. They have failed in their first attempt. The steamer again tows them into position, and they make for the second time boldly in for the wreck; the coxswain steers as near to the stern as possible, avoiding the danger of being washed over it on to the deck of the vessel, and thus crushed to pieces; they get nearer to the vessel than they did before; the shipwrecked crew begin to stir themselves, the boatmen are about to run the boat alongside, when again they are overwhelmed in the rush of a fearful sea, buried in its deluge of broken water, and the boat is again hurled away by the force of the waves, and carried many fathoms from the vessel; the anchor holds, but the tide is running more strongly than ever, and in the direction to carry them right away from the wreck; and so it is hopeless for them to try to get any nearer to her from where they are. The tide has risen and is nearly at its height; the vessel has fallen still more over upon her side; the lee side of the deck is completely under water, the top of the deck-house is just above the sea; the crew have been driven from their old place of shelter, they have lashed a spar across the mizen shrouds, and are all clinging to it, while the heavy waves beat continually over the poor fellows.