five o'clock
His blades entered the rough sea cleanly and came out on the feather . Admiringly , almost enviously , Percy watched the play of the banded muscles on his brawny forearms . He would have given anything to be as strong as his dory-mate . Past five o'clock , and still over two miles to the island . It was growing rougher every minute . The gale had fairly begun . It sheared the crests off the racing billows and flung them over the boat in showers of spray .