“What’s the matter with you?” Martin was irritated. “What’s so bad about his going there? It’s none of my business.”
“How,” said Evans tightly, “do you think he’s going to get back if the wind gets any worse? He’s going to be stuck there and no damned use at all.”
“That certainly’s too bad,” snarled Martin. “You want me to send out a carrier pigeon?”
Evans started to say something. He thought better of it, though. He walked across the slanting deck without speaking.
Martin, still angry, looked at the sea. He was surprised to see that the snow had almost stopped, and that black clouds hung in the sky and a strong wind was lashing the waves.
He turned around to speak to Evans and at that moment the williwaw hit the ship.
Martin was thrown across the wheelhouse. There was a thundering in his ears. He managed to grasp the railing and, desperately, he clung to it.
The wheelhouse hit the water with a creaking smack. For a minute the deck of the wheelhouse was at a right angle with the water. Then, slowly, the ship righted herself.
Evans, he saw, lay flat on the steep deck. The man who had been at the wheel was huddled near the companionway. The wheel was spinning aimlessly.
The ship shuddered as tremendous waves lifted her high in the air. Martin, confused and helpless, shut his eyes and wished that the huge sound of the wind would go away.