In six hours, crew members will remember later, she manages 3 miles. And the ship is leaking. In the wheelhouse, Mark Morley, a burly skipper who is supposed to celebrate his 36th birthday in 11 days, wrestles the spoked helm and fights to keep his feet on the heaving deck. Every few minutes, he leans forward to peer out at the storm gods through half-inch Lexan windows caking with ice. Wind is screaming through the wire stays.
Hail hammers the decks.
Geysers of spray explode off the bow, coating the mast and rigging a ghostly white. Morley can't see them, but rogue waves are prowling out there, merging, pulling apart, piling up on themselves. Some are as high as 10-story buildings. That means she has a rounded stern, a wide cross section and a wheelhouse at the front of a raised midships section. Built in 1919, she's 77 feet long and weighs 66 tons.