`` beau '' was able to picture it well by now , the bright cheerless sunlight , the overcrowded wooden boat , the thronging and colorful beach , the noisy grinding of the open boat 's prow into the expensive important white florida sand , the hollow yodels of outlandish acknowledgement from the dying , salt-scarred passengers of an end to the monumental rocking , splashing , stinging , burning , and tidal churning of a seemingly endless open cobalt mothering sea .