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From both the north and the south, like distant black slivers knifing through the cold waters of Thassa, masts down, came the fleets of the fifth wave. - (Raiders of Gor, Chapter 17, Sentence #236)

The man on the height of the prow, his builders' glass slung about his shoulder, standing, his feet fixed in ropes, was waving his cap in the air. The oarsmen below were crying out and waving their caps. I snapped open the glass of the builders. From both the north and the south, like distant black slivers knifing through the cold waters of Thassa, masts down, came the fleets of the fifth wave. I grinned. Chung had been forced to beat his way northward against the wind. Nigel, wise in the ways of sea war, had held back his ships, the wind pounding behind them, that the blades of the pincers might strike simultaneously, as though wielded by a single hand and will. - (Raiders of Gor)