Rio dressed silently, pulled on his sea boots and fastened his oilskins and sou’wester. On deck, he looked around the lee corner of the house and waited for a sea to break over. A small one came under the rail and hissed across the deck, winding up with a crash against the hatches. The white water ran into the scuppers. As she started to roll back, Rio ran as fast as he could to a ladder to the boatdeck. Then he went forward to a small house where a light was burning.
In there was a young man pouring coffee. His face was white and anxious. When he saw Rio he said, “They tell me you’re my watch partner.”
Rio smiled and nodded his head. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down to drink it.
The young man spoke again.
“I was told to report for lookout duty on the port side of the bridge. I don’t know where that is.”
“I’ll show you.”
“But what do I do as lookout?”
“Ask the man you relieve,” said Rio. “And don’t be upset if the mate yells a bit. It’s hard for some of ’em to fasten a twelve-inch neck in a seventeen collar. Just lay low unless you see a ship comin’ up. Then tell it to him as best you can and let him swear all he pleases. We better go up now,” he added.
They went out into the wind and up the ladder to the bridge. The quartermaster, seeing Rio, left the wheel.