OWING to the cant of the vessel
(из-за накренения судна; owing to — по причине, вследствие; to owe — быть должным /кому-л./; быть в долгу /перед кем-л./; быть обязанным), the masts hung far out over the water (мачты нависли прямо над водой; far out — далеко наружу), and from my perch on the cross-trees I had nothing below me but the surface of the bay (и под моим насестом на салинге не было ничего, кроме поверхности /воды/ бухты; perch — жердь, насест). Hands, who was not so far up (Хендс, который был не так высоко = взобрался ниже меня), was, in consequence, nearer to the ship (был в результате /этого/ ближе к кораблю), and fell between me and the bulwarks (и упал /в воду/ между мной и фальшбортом). He rose once to the surface in a lather of foam and blood (он поднялся один раз на поверхность = всплыл в кровавой пене; lather — пена /от мыла, моющего средства и т. п./; foam — пена), and then sank again for good (и затем погрузился снова навеки; to sink). As the water settled, I could see him lying huddled together on the clean, bright sand in the shadow of the vessel’s sides (когда вода успокоилась, я видел, как он лежал, съежившись, на чистом светлом песке в тени бортов судна; to settle — установиться, улечься, устраиваться; to huddle — съеживаться, свёртываться калачиком). A fish or two whipped past his body (рыбка или две проплыли быстро над его телом; to whip — хлестать; юркнуть, выскочить). Sometimes, by the quivering of the water (иногда, при колебании воды), he appeared to move a little, as if he were trying to rise (казалось, что он немного шевелится, как если бы пытался встать). But he was dead enough, for all that (но он был мертв достаточно = вполне, тем не менее), being both shot and drowned (будучи и застреленным, и утопленным), and was food for fish in the very place where he had designed my slaughter (и был пищей для рыб на том самом месте, где задумал убить меня; slaughter — кровопролитие, резня, забой).
сonsequence [`kɔnsɪkwəns] lather [`lɑ:ðə] quivering [`kwɪvərɪŋ] slaughter [`slɔ:tə]
OWING to the cant of the vessel, the masts hung far out over the water, and from my perch on the cross-trees I had nothing below me but the surface of the bay. Hands, who was not so far up, was, in consequence, nearer to the ship, and fell between me and the bulwarks. He rose once to the surface in a lather of foam and blood, and then sank again for good. As the water settled, I could see him lying huddled together on the clean, bright sand in the shadow of the vessel’s sides. A fish or two whipped past his body. Sometimes, by the quivering of the water, he appeared to move a little, as if he were trying to rise. But he was dead enough, for all that, being both shot and drowned, and was food for fish in the very place where he had designed my slaughter.