Chapter 296: Holding the Bow

Shichen lowered the plastic lid into the water and felt it wrench against his fingers.

He had expected resistance, but the wave caught its broad surface before he could pull, bending one corner backward.

He drew it close to the hull and tried again, working from his knees while Hanchuan braced himself farther forward with the smaller lid.

Their first efforts barely changed the boat’s position. Rain ran into Shichen’s eyes, and he had to lift his head to see whether the bow was turning at all.

Beyond Hanchuan, the next swell rose high enough to hide everything behind it.

"Keep it close to the side," Hanchuan called, watching Shichen struggle with the lid. "Don’t reach so far that it pulls you out. We need you in here."

Shichen shifted his knees and shortened his stroke. This time, he felt the boat respond, although the movement was slight.

Hanchuan worked with him until the bow met the wave at an angle, climbing heavily before dropping into the trough. Water splashed over the windshield and struck Zeyu across the shoulders.

Zeyu left the key alone after another failed attempt. He wiped his face with his sleeve, then came forward to watch the water beside them.

"We’re turning, but we can’t keep doing this through the whole squall," Zeyu said. He crouched behind Shichen and caught his life jacket when the boat rolled. "Give it another pull. I’ve got you."

Shichen leaned into the next stroke, feeling the strain through his back. His arms had already been tired before he started.

Even with someone holding him, he couldn’t make the lid work like an oar, and each passing wave took away some of the ground they had gained.

Behind him, Qinghe’s bucket struck the edge of the hatch and the sound made Shichen glance back.

Water was spreading across the deck around Qinghe’s knees, and Jingwei had moved the tilted storage box onto the seat while Zhiyi held it steady.

They had collected enough rain for it to slosh against the sides, but they couldn’t leave it unattended without losing most of it.

Zhiyi looked from the water inside the box to the lid in Shichen’s hands.

"We used to drag things behind the boat when the wind kept turning us," she said, raising her voice when another gust carried part of the sentence away. "It slowed us down. I don’t know if the blanket’s strong enough, but we could try it."

Shichen looked toward the wet blanket tied across the seats. It had seemed worth keeping when they wrung it out, although it hadn’t dried enough to warm anyone. He pictured it pulled open beneath the surface, with the water holding against it.

"We could put it off the bow," Shichen said, turning toward Hanchuan. "It won’t hold us in one place, but it might keep us facing the waves. We’ll have to spread the pull, or it’ll tear straight through."

Hanchuan studied the blanket, then the rope coiled beneath the seat.

"Try it. Zeyu, take over here while Shichen gets it ready," he said.

Shichen passed the lid back and moved carefully along the narrow space between the seats. When he reached Zhiyi, she had already pulled the blanket’s corner toward her, but one of the knots had tightened too much for her fingers.

He crouched beside her and worked it loose with the screwdriver. Her hair was plastered against her cheek, and she kept pushing it away with her shoulder because both hands were occupied.

"Hold the box against the seat for me," Shichen said, drawing the freed corner out of her grasp. "I’ll get this. We’ve worked too hard for that water to pour it all over our feet."

Zhiyi settled back with the container braced between her arms. He wanted to touch her, but there was nowhere to put his hands that wouldn’t interrupt something they needed to finish.

Instead, he stayed close while he untied the remaining corners, letting her lean against him whenever the boat shifted.

Jingwei brought the rope and knelt on the other side. Together, they gathered the blanket into a loose pouch, leaving it open enough to catch the water.

Shichen changed the knots twice, drawing more fabric through them so the strain wouldn’t fall on a narrow strip. He couldn’t remember ever working so slowly while wanting so badly to hurry.

By the time they carried it forward, Zeyu was breathing hard. Hanchuan’s hands had reddened where the edge of the tool-case lid pressed into them.

Shichen secured the rope to the bow fitting and checked it with both hands before Jingwei lowered the blanket over the side.

At first, it floated beside them in a sodden heap. Shichen let out more rope, watching the folds disappear as they filled.

The line tightened unevenly, slipping against the rail before drawing straight.

Hanchuan and Zeyu kept paddling while the blanket settled beneath the surface. For several waves, Shichen couldn’t tell whether it was helping.

Then the bow began coming around without their lids in the water, and he raised his hand to stop them.

"Give it a moment," Shichen said, watching the rope rather than their faces. "I think it’s pulling us straight."

The next wave struck the front of the boat. Spray still came aboard, and the drop afterward jarred his knees, but they didn’t roll as far. Hanchuan waited through another before setting his lid down.

Shichen stayed beside the fitting, feeling each pull through the rope, but he couldn’t call it fixed.

The blanket stretched whenever the boat fell back, and one corner had begun to gather more tightly than the others. Still, it gave Zeyu time to sit and Hanchuan time to take the bucket from Qinghe.

Zhiyi was watching Shichen when he turned around. He managed a tired smile before crouching beside her again.

"It’s helping," Shichen told her, resting one hand against the box. "I’ll have to keep checking it, but you’ve given our arms a rest."

She looked past him toward the bow, then let out a breath and leaned against his shoulder. He stayed still long enough to feel how badly she was shivering before reaching for one of the salvaged shirts.

It was wet too. He put it down again.

"Come closer," Shichen said, making room between his knees so she could sit with her back against him. "I can at least keep some of the wind off you."

Zhiyi moved without arguing, bringing the water container with her. He settled his arms around both and rested his cheek briefly against her hair while Jingwei poured another panful into the box.

They remained that way as the rain thickened. Shichen watched the rope, Qinghe took a turn holding the saucepan beneath the runoff, and Hanchuan kept lifting water from the hatch. Nobody tried the engine again.

Eventually, Zeyu came back from the stern and crouched where Hanchuan could hear him.

"There’s no fuel reaching it now," Zeyu said. He rubbed a hand over his face before looking toward the bow. "I can check the rest when this lets up, but we need to work as though it isn’t going to start."

Zhiyi’s hands tightened against the container. Shichen drew her closer while Hanchuan set the bucket down, his attention moving from Zeyu to the rope that was keeping their bow into the waves.

Beneath Shichen’s hand, the line jerked.

A pale strip of blanket rose through the water, fluttering beside the taut rope before disappearing again.