its grey, melancholy woods, and wild stone spires, and the surf that we
could both see and hear foaming and thundering on the steep beach--at
least, although the sun shone bright and hot, and the shore birds were
fishing and crying all around us, and you would have thought anyone would
have been glad to get to land after being so long at sea, my heart sank,
as the saying is, into my boots; and from the first look onward, I hated
the very thought of Treasure Island.
Chapter 13 -'How My Shore Adventure Began'