As night fell, the sky turned a deep slate and the winds began to howl like hungry wolves. The four boats—Maria, Clara, Anna, and Rosa—approached the edge of the storm. Waves swelled like walls of black glass and the wind whistled through the rigging in a haunting tune.
Captain Poo stood on the Maria's helm, his coat flapping behind him like a battle standard. "Signal the other boats to close their sails," he barked.
One of his signalmen jumped into action, swiftly flickering the lamp in a prearranged pattern. Across the rolling waves, the other ships responded with flawless coordination, pulling down their sails just in time as the storm's fury reached them.
The boats plunged into the wild sea. Thunder cracked like cannon fire, and lightning forked across the sky, momentarily turning night into a silver blaze.
Poo gripped the rail and shouted to the helmsman, "Hey!? Don't fight the waves—dance with them! Ride their rhythm!"
