"Sniff~," Deep, who was steering, sniffed up his runny nose. He shrank his neck but that didn't help much.
The cockpit of the Unicorne, now without a ceiling or glass, standing here for hours, being blown by the sea wind like that, even a deep diver had his limits. His fingers were almost numb.
"Tap, tap, tap," footsteps sounded, and the blood-soaked first mate with bandages everywhere approached, holding the spare sea chart from the Captain's Room.
"How long... has it been?"
"The direction hasn't changed, we're now exactly 60 nautical miles."
The first mate silently nodded his head, quickly comparing it with a simpler sea chart nearby.
"How are things below?" asked Deep, without turning back.
The first mate paused with his pencil, then continued along the ruler. "Tommy... couldn't save his right hand..."
Deep sighed softly. Although the crisis had passed, the crew's situation was not optimistic.
