Bogart the Boat Salesman's Arc

Chapter 4 of 6

Bogart held the Rig Runner steady against the wind and stared at the water climbing the drifting boat's hull. The tow line was set, but the moment he throttled up, the drag would pull that stern down and take his own with it. He shouted across the gap at the hunched figure. "What's your name?" The man cupped his hands. "Marcus!" Bogart pointed at the water sloshing past the man's knees. "You have to stay on that boat and keep her floating till we reach the dock. Can you do that?" The man nodded, quick and scared. Bogart looked east. The next cell rolled toward them in a black wall, lightning stitched through the belly of it. Twenty minutes, maybe less. He could not tow a sinking hull that far. "Locker under your seat," he said to Diane. She yanked it open. Inside sat the sealant case he kept for hull work on the lot and the orange bucket he clipped to every demo boat before a test run. Bogart grabbed both. "Hold her against him. I'm going over." Diane took the wheel without a word. Bogart timed the swell, stepped onto the gunwale, and jumped. He landed hard in ankle-deep water on the sinking deck. The man caught his arm. Bogart shoved the bucket into his hands. "Bail. Don't stop. Not for anything." The man started scooping and dumping over the side. Bogart dropped to his knees and ran his palm along the inside of the hull until he felt the crack, a jagged split near the waterline behind the seat mount. Cold water pushed through it in a steady rope. He cracked the case open on the wet deck. He loaded a tube into the gun, jammed the nozzle against the split, and squeezed. Gray paste piled into the crack. He dragged the bead the length of the split, then again, thicker. He tore off a strip of waterproof tape with his teeth and pressed it over the sealant, smoothing it flat with his thumb. The rope of water thinned to a trickle. He found a second seep at the transom and hit it the same way. The man kept bailing. The level in the boat dropped an inch, then two. Bogart climbed back to the gunwale and waved to Diane. "Slow tow! Keep him bailing the whole way!" She eased the throttle. The line went tight. The sinking boat lifted, held, and followed. Bogart stayed aboard with the bailer, one hand on the sealed crack, watching the black cloud swell behind them. They made the breakwater six minutes before the storm hit. Diane brought them alongside the dock. The man climbed off on shaking legs. Bogart tied the boat off himself and checked the seal one more time. It was holding. Three people back, three boats accounted for. He looked at the Rig Runner's transom and saw a fresh gouge in the fiberglass where the tow line had dug in.