“Well, I want to get off somewheres. I don’t like this stuff.”
“That’s too bad.” Martin was getting tired of Smitty’s complaints. He went slowly up the companionway to the wheelhouse.
Bervick and Evans were talking. They stopped abruptly when Martin entered.
“How’re the lines?” asked Evans.
“Good shape.”
“We’ll be docking soon.”
Martin looked out the window. Ahead of them he saw the string of tombstone-like rocks that marked the entrance. They were a little over five miles from the rocks.
Bervick opened one of the windows and the wind cooled the hot wheelhouse.
“Look,” said Bervick, pointing at the sky.
“What do you see?” Martin asked.