“Pretty hard, isn’t it?” Bervick looked over at Evans.
“Not easy. Pitching like hell.”
“Why not get her on electric steering?”
“Might break. Then where’d we be?”
“Right here.”
Evans stood by the compass. He knew they could not afford to be even a few degrees off their course. Ilak was a small island, and if they should miss it.... Evans did not like to think of what might happen then.
He wished the storm would begin soon if it were going to begin at all. Waiting for the big wind was a strain, and there was no sign of the wind yet. Only the sea was becoming larger.
The sky was still dark where the heart of the storm was gathered. Dirty white snow clouds stretched bleakly in the damp almost windless air. The strange green light was starting to fade into the storm and evening darkness. Gray twenty-foot waves rolled smoothly under them, lifting them high and then dropping them down into deep troughs.
Evans noticed the man at the wheel was pale.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “You feeling the weather?”