When Chen Hao opened his eyes, the cabin lights were still on. He sat up and found that the helm was empty, the gauges were moving, and the ship was still moving. Outside the window, everything was a hazy gray, as if someone had spilled a bowl of milk on it.
"Nana?" he called out.
"I'm here." Nana stood in front of the control panel, her voice unchanged, but her tone was a little tense. "Visibility is less than ten meters, and the dense fog continues to expand."
He walked to the window, reached out and touched the glass; it was wet. He couldn't see anything outside; even the sea was blended into the white.
"This fog came way too fast," he said. "It was fine just a moment ago."
“The fog started coming in ten minutes ago,” Nana said. “Visibility dropped to fifty meters in three minutes, and now all external visual signals are cut off.”
Chen Hao glanced back at the cabin door. "Did you wake Susan and Carl up?"
"I have already notified them."
Just as she finished speaking, Susan came in, wearing a coat and her hair still a little messy. She was holding a thermometer and a small notebook. "The humidity outside is close to saturation, and the water temperature has dropped by 0.8 degrees Celsius compared to an hour ago."
Carl followed behind, crouching down to check for leaks at the floor seams. "The hull is properly sealed, but water evaporation from the deck will increase the burden on the electrical system."
"What's the status of the electronic equipment?" Chen Hao asked.
"Radar malfunction, GPS unresponsive, compass needle swinging erratically." Nana paused for a second. "The preliminary assessment is that salt spray intrusion caused a short circuit, compounded by an abnormal magnetic field."
"So, we're blind right now?" Chen Hao said.
"To be precise, we've lost our sense of direction," Nana corrected. "The engines are still running, and the speed is stable, but we don't know where to go."
Chen Hao scratched his head. "Can I still use that flight path map?"
“The current environment makes it impossible to verify the coordinates,” Nana said. “Navigation based on memory has an error rate of over 40 percent.”
“That means it can’t be used.” He sighed. “Here we go again.”
"What's here again?" Susan looked up.
"I just fixed the machine, and I immediately got lost." Chen Hao leaned against the wall. "It's always like this; good things never last more than three minutes."
“This isn’t a bad thing,” Susan said, flipping through her notebook. “It’s just a different way of finding direction.”
"You're really optimistic."
“I just have a habit of observing,” she said. “When I came over just now, I saw two seabirds fly past to my right front, their flight angle was very stable.”
"Birds?" Chen Hao frowned. "Can they navigate?"
“Some seabirds have a homing instinct,” Susan said. “Especially in the evening or early morning, they will travel along fixed routes between their habitat and foraging areas.”
"But it's daytime now."
“But there is fog,” she said. “The light conditions are similar to dawn and dusk, which may trigger their orientation behavior.”
Nana quickly retrieved the database. "Records show that there is a population of short-tailed albatrosses in this sea area, with an average homing deviation of less than two kilometers."
"So it's useful?" Chen Hao asked.
“It needs to be verified.” Susan walked toward the hatch. “I want to go to the deck to check the direction of the water flow.”
“I’ll go keep an eye on the transmission system.” Karl didn’t move. “The structural pressure distribution is different at low speeds, so we need to prevent it from loosening.”
"Okay." Chen Hao rubbed his face. "I'll take the helm and wait for your news."
Susan opened the hatch and stepped out, a damp chill in the air. Chen Hao followed, standing in front of the driver's seat looking at the instruments. Speed five knots, oil pressure stable, but no direction.
A few minutes later, Susan's voice came through the walkie-talkie: "The surge direction is 15 degrees northwest, and the change in water temperature gradient supports this flow direction."
"Is it flying in the same direction as the birds?" Chen Hao asked.
“It largely matches,” she said. “If bird habitats are located at the edge of the continental shelf, we can explore that direction.”
"Nana, is this data reliable?" He turned his head.
“The statistical confidence level is 72 percent,” she said. “It’s not high, but it’s the best reference under the current conditions.”
"Then we have no choice but to take a gamble." Chen Hao pushed the control stick. "Turn northwest."
The ship tilted slowly, the engine humming softly. He stared at the white expanse ahead, unable to see anything, relying solely on his senses to determine if he was turning.
“I feel like I’m driving with my eyes closed,” he said, “and the windows are all glued shut.”
“Your analogies are getting worse and worse,” Nana said.
"I'm in a bad mood."
"Emotional fluctuations do not affect decision-making efficiency."
"If you don't speak, no one will think you're mute."
They were silent for a moment. The ship continued forward, cutting through the fog, only to be swallowed up again immediately.
Susan reappeared in the doorway, this time carrying a plastic cup. "I collected some surface seawater and did a simple buoyancy test," she said, placing the cup on the table. "The floating objects moved in the same direction as the surge, further supporting our hypothesis."
"You even brought a cup?" Chen Hao asked.
“It was supposed to hold coffee,” she said. “Now it’s empty.”
"You're even skipping coffee? Looks like it's really urgent."
“I didn’t drink any yesterday,” she said. “Reserves are insufficient, so priority is given to staff on night duty.”
Are you sleepy now?
"A little," she admitted, "but I can still manage."
"Don't try to tough it out," Chen Hao said. "If we need to change direction later, you need to stay alert."
"I know."
At this moment, Karl climbed up from the bottom of the hold, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Two rivets at the third keel joint on the port side were loose, so I temporarily secured them with spare clamps."
"Is it serious?" Chen Hao asked.
"It does not affect structural safety at present," he said. "However, prolonged low-frequency vibrations may widen the gap."
"Then we need to get to shore as soon as possible."
“That is, we can find the shore,” Carl said.
“We’re trying it.” Chen Hao pointed ahead. “We’re following Susan’s method.”
Carl looked outside. "When will this fog clear up?"
"The weather model predicts that the concentration will peak around dawn and then gradually weaken," Nana said. "It is expected to take six hours for it to completely dissipate."
"That means we'll have to soak in this milk soup for another half a day." Chen Hao leaned back in his chair. "Who would have thought that we'd first be fixing machines, then finding our way, and next we'd probably have to catch fish to fill our stomachs?"
“We have plenty of food,” Nana said. “There’s no need to fish.”
"I was just joking."
"Your sense of humor still lacks a positive motivating effect."
"Could you please compliment someone just this once?"
"You provided an effective delivery service for assistive devices in the event of engine failure."
"That was the only job I ever did."
"It's also a crucial step."
Chen Hao rolled his eyes and didn't say anything more. He looked out the window again; the fog was still thick, but he felt like he could see some outlines—maybe it was just his imagination.
“I think… it’s a bit dark up ahead?” he asked.
The three of them looked out the window at the same time.
"Visibility has improved slightly," Nana said. "It's probably because the clouds at high altitudes are thinning, which increases the refraction of light."
"So, the fog is thinning?" Susan asked.
“The trend holds true,” she said, “but it hasn’t affected overall navigation capabilities yet.”
“At least it’s not getting worse,” Carl said. “When I went downstairs just now, I found the drain was a bit clogged, so I cleared it.”
“If there are too many problems, we have to solve them one by one,” Chen Hao said. “Anyway, there’s nothing else to do.”
“I recommend maintaining the current course,” Susan said. “If visibility recovers to more than 50 meters within two hours, we can confirm our location by taking into account the terrain features.”
"Okay." Chen Hao nodded. "Let's do it that way."
He sat back down in his chair, his hand resting on the control stick. The boat was still moving, the sound unchanged, and the direction remained the same. Time passed slowly, and no one spoke loudly anymore.
About forty minutes later, Susan suddenly stood up.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “I just saw a bird fly up from below.”
"What do you mean?" Chen Hao asked.
"If it takes off from the water, it means there may be reefs or shallows nearby," she said. "This bird does not stay in deep water."
"Does that mean we're almost on land?" He perked up.
"Not necessarily," Nana analyzed. "It could also be a temporary landing point formed by a seabed uplift."
“But at least it shows that the terrain is changing,” Susan said. “We should slow down and avoid running aground.”
"Slow down to three stops." Chen Hao pushed down the control lever.
The engine noise became quieter, and the boat speed decreased.
“Karl, go check the bottom of the boat again,” he said. “If we really hit a rock, we can’t afford to repair it a second time.”
Karl nodded and turned to walk towards the hatch.
Just then, Susan suddenly raised her hand to signal for quiet.
“Listen,” she said.
Everyone stopped what they were doing.
A short, sharp cry came from afar, sounding like a bird, but not quite.
“It’s not a native species,” Susan said softly.
Chen Hao stared at the gradually thinning fog.
The edges of the fog began to gleam with a bluish-gray light.
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