controls.  He moved the green lever to reverse, and felt the vibration

in the deck as below him in the main cable room the big drums began to

revolve, drawing the thick ice-encrusted cable up over Warlock's stern.

Fighting every inch of the way like a wild horse on a head halter,

Warlock was drawn in cautiously by her own winches , and the officers

watched in mounting horror as out of the white terror of the blizzard

emerged the mountainous ice-covered bulk of Golden Adventurer.

She was so close that the main cable no longer dipped below the surface

of the sea, but ran directly from the liner's stern to the tug's massive

fairleads on her stern quarter.

Now we can see what we are doing/ Nick told them grimly.  He could see

now that much of Warlock's power had been wasted by not exerting a pull

on exactly the same plane as Golden Adventurer's keel. He had been

disoriented in the white-out of the blizzard, and had allowed Warlock to

pull at an angle.  It would not happen now.

Chief/ he said.  Pull, pull all, pull until she bursts her guts!  And

again he slid the throttle handles fully home.

Warlock flung up against the elastic yoke, and Nick saw the water spurt

from the woven fibres and turn instantly to ice crystals as it was

whipped away on the shrieking She's not moving, sir/David cried beside

him.

No recovery either winch/ Baker confirmed almost immediately. 'She's

solid!  Too much water still in her!  said David, and Nick turned on him

as though to strike him to the deck.

Give me the wheel/he said, his voice cracking with his anger and

frustration.

With both engines boiling the sea to white foam, and roaring like dying

bulls, Nick swung the wheel to full port lock.

Wildly Warlock dug her shoulder in, water pouring on board her as she

rolled, instantly Nick spun the wheel to full starboard lock and she

lurched against the tow, throwing an extra ton of pressure on to it.

Even above the storm, they heard Golden Adventurer groan, the steel of

her hull protesting at the weight of water in her and the intolerable

pressure of the anchor winches and Warlock's tow cable.

The groan became a crackling hiss as the pebble bottom gave and moved

under her.

Christ, she's coming!  shrieked Baker, and Nick swung her to full port

lock again, swinging Warlock into a deep trough between waves, then a

solid ridge of steaming water buried her, and Nick was not certain she

could survive that press of furious sea.  It came green and slick over

the superstructure and she shuddered wearily, gone slow and unwieldy.

Then she lifted her bows and, like a spaniel, shook herself free,

becoming again quick and light.

Pull, my darling, pull/Nick pleaded with her.

With a slow reluctant rumble, Golden Adventurer's hull began to slide

over the holding, clinging bottom.

Both winches recovering/ Baker howled gleefully, and Warlock's ground

speed-indicator flicked into the green, its little angular figures

changing in twinkling electronic progression as Warlock gathered way.

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