During the night a northerly gale sprang up and a sudden gust caught Algy, sweeping him high into the air. As he raced on the wind across the headland, Algy could see the sea approaching rapidly on all sides, so with a great effort he dropped down to the ground before it was too late. In a West Highland gale it is perilous on the rocks, even for a bird, but not as dangerous as it would be over the ocean. Algy clung tightly to a rocky ledge as the pounding waves sprayed him with salty foam. As he stared out to sea through the spray, he spotted a small boat battling the waves, so for the sake of all the sailors who were out in the gale he quietly hummed their own special hymn, in the hope that it might help them weather the storm:
Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidd’st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!