Ross Island (Lost 1.2)

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He had been sailing for twenty-nine days, days of endless sea and sky, when the storm blew up

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He had been sailing for twenty-nine days, days of endless sea and sky, when the storm blew up. In a matter of minutes, gusting winds drove the sea into huge twenty metre waves, tossing the boat like a cherry in a cocktail shaker. Qu Pang struggled to trim the sails, reducing the surface area as much as he could, then went below, letting Sea Dragon run before the storm.

He spent a restless night, listening to the roar of the wind, feeling the swoop and fall of the waves. The storm blew for three days and for three nights, until finally he woke one morning to - silence. At first he wondered what was wrong, before he realised he could no longer hear the wind. The waves were still driving Sea Dragon forward, but the wind had died down. He checked his navigator. He was further east than he had planned. Before the storm, he had been travelling more or less due south, but the winds had blown him a long way eastward.

Soon he hoped, the sea would settle and he would be able to get back on course.

It wasn't until dawn of the following day that the sea calmed sufficiently for Qu Pang to risk going above deck. Relieved to be in the fresh air, he took deep, lung-cleansing breaths before he took a good look around.

What was that on the horizon? A brown smudge.

He blinked, wondering if he was imagining things. No - it was still there when he opened his eyes.

Land?

Eagerly he piloted Sea Dragon toward the object, his excitement growing as he got nearer, and saw that it was indeed land. Jagged cliffs, rising out of the sea.

He drew closer, bringing Sea Dragon in to about a kilometre from the coast.

Avidly, he scanned the area for signs of settlement, but could see nothing except for bare rock and low patches of green, and further inland - a huge mountain. He stared in wonder. Some trick of the light made it look white. Should he try and land Sea Dragon? Or keep going?

He decided to keep exploring. He headed south, following the coast.

~~~

Carl Steppenwolf was on the beach, struggling to land a large mackerel, when he saw the strange craft. For a brief second he thought it was a breaching whale. As soon as he realised it was artificial, he dropped his rod and fled back to Murdo, as fast as his legs would carry him.

Darting through the settlement, he burst through the front door of Center, the main building.

"Hey everyone!" he shouted. "There's a strange thing out in the water!"

Scientist Joan Whitney bustled forward, a frown marring her smooth face. "No need to shout, child! What are you talking about?"

"A thing in the water, moving fast. Long, like this-" His hands outlined the shape. "With triangles on the top."

By then older Scientist Ernest Presley had arrived, drawn by the unaccustomed noise.

"It's probably a whale," he said, dismissively.

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