The ship, vibrating strongly, drew away from shore. Evans twirled the electrical steering gear hard to starboard and headed the ship for the opening and the sea beyond.
At Slow Speed Ahead they moved through the channel, neatly cutting the still water. The uneven rocks of the point moved by them. A raven, the first he had seen since they left Andrefski, flew warily among the rocks. A damp breeze came to him through the window. Snow clouds hung over the mountains.
Bervick came back. “All squared away. We left the tarpaulin off. Just in case we might need the anchor again.”
“Good.” Evans motioned to the man on watch who had been standing by the door. “You take over.”
Evans examined the blue-green paint of the wheelhouse. It was too dark. He had thought so when they first used it, but this dark color was the only paint he could get. A lighter color would have been much better. He would have everything repainted when they got back to Andrefski.
Without warning the ship was lifted several feet in the air by a long wave. They were out of the inlet. The rocks of the point receded in the distance.
“Bring her to port,” commanded Evans. The bow swung parallel to shore. They were headed west again.
“So far so good,” said Bervick.
Evans agreed. There was quietness in the morning. There would be snow flurries but the big wind seemed to have gone. Evans was glad. He began to whistle.
Bervick looked at him. “We’re not in the clear yet,” he said.