He realized what this meant and looked down as he once more wrapped his arms around the fuselage, with his shoulders against the rudder bracket.  What he saw was the restless sea less than two hundred feet below!  Had Bob waited for him to attempt to crawl back into the cabin with the tail elevated, the Sky-Bird would have buried herself in the waters before he was half-way to his objective.  They must now rise, if that were possible, to a good height; then Bob would slowly spiral the airplane downward and afford him a declining surface to work back upon.