Evans came whistling into the wheelhouse. He was followed by a Captain, the Assistant Superintendent of the harbor.
“Are we sailing?” asked Martin.
Evans nodded. “Just as soon as the Captain here gives us clearance.”
“The weather...?”
“According to the Navy,” said the Captain, examining some papers in his hand, “according to the Navy you will encounter heavy weather near the Agan cape. Twenty-foot sea at the worst. Fair visibility and not too much wind. Of course you realize at this time of year anything can happen.”
“There are no planes leaving, are there?” asked Evans.
The Captain shook his head. “Not for a week anyway. This is about the quickest trip for the Major.” He handed Evans an envelope. “Here’s your clearance and the weather report in detail. See you on your way back.” The Captain left.
“Were off,” said Martin. He looked out over the still harbor. “I guess it will be a good trip. Hope so, anyway.”
Evans looked at the gray sky. “There’s a lot of snow up there. Go tell the Major that he can’t fly. He wanted to know.”
Martin and Bervick went below together. They found the Major in the salon, filing his nails. He looked inquiringly at them.