High overhead a small patch had appeared in the heavy overcast. As they watched, the wind spread the clouds further and further apart and the patch of sky grew larger.
“One patch of blue sky doesn’t mean the sea will calm down,” Sandy said grimly. “It may take hours more for that to happen—days even.”
As if to prove his words another comber swept over them an instant later, to bury itself in the gravel and add additional tons of water to the load the barge was already carrying.
More gravel cascaded down toward the bulwark. The portside seemed a scant three feet above water while the starboard side reared menacingly in the air.
Sandy straightened up. “This isn’t accomplishing much,” he said. “There’s no use kidding ourselves.”
“Abandon ship?” Ken asked.
“We’ll wait until the last possible moment,” Sandy said. “We’ll climb up on the stone—way over on the starboard side. When she goes down, she’ll roll to port. That’s when we’ll jump to starboard. We have to clear the barge when we hit the water or....”
There was no need for him to finish the sentence. In silence, with Sandy in the lead, they climbed up onto the pile of stone and made their way to the top.
Overhead the sky was clearing rapidly. The sun had found a way through the last of the scudding gray clouds. Even the wind was easing slightly. But the waves were as high as they had ever been. From their new vantage point the mammoth walls of onrushing water seemed even larger.
Huddled on the rough stone, they watched the barge tilt more and more as the minutes passed. The cold got at them now that they were no longer straining at the pump handle. Their hands were numb, their lips blue. Only tightly clenched jaws could keep their teeth from chattering.