midnight
Had these light coverings given way , two or three successive waves would infallibly have so far filled the hold , as to render the hull water-logged ; when the loss of the vessel would have followed as an inevitable consequence . The admiral had ordered Vicente Yañez to carry the foresail close reefed , in the hope of dragging the caravel through this chaos of waters , to a part of the ocean where the waves ran more regularly . The general direction of the seas , too , so far as they could be said to have a general direction at all , had been respected , and the Niña had struggled onward -- it might be better to say , waded onward -- some five or six leagues , since the disappearance of the day , and found no change . It was getting to be near midnight , and still the surface of the ocean presented the same wild aspect of chaotic confusion . Vicente Yañez approached the admiral , and declared that the bark could no longer bear the rag of sail she carried . `` The jerk , as we rise on the sea , goes near to pull the stern out of the craft , '' he said ; `` and the backward flap , as we settle into the troughs , is almost as menacing . The Niña will bear the canvas no longer , with safety . ''