Old Ge's illness had become more serious in the last few days. Everyone went to his little house and watched his laboured breathing. He didn't like people, but he no longer had the strength to chase them away.

That day around nightfall an unusually heavy wind had blown up, making the ocean roar especially loudly. People suddenly remembered Old Uncle Seven's boat and ran to the sea shore to watch for it.

Old Ge slipped into a deep sleep as he lay curled up in his room by himself. In his dreams he was fighting with an enormous shark. He won a difficult victory, losing a leg in the process. When he woke up he pulled hard on that leg, but no matter how hard he pulled, it wouldn't move. That leg was part of the half of his body that had not been affected by the stroke. He imagined that it was because the shark had bitten it off --- that vicious beast! He had pounded it into submission with his fists, shattering its skull! The old captain laboriously opened his mouth to breathe, and smiled to himself in the dark shadows.

He suddenly heard a strange sound. It was very loud and intermittent. For awhile he listened intently and what he heard was the thunder of the ocean. He said to himself; "The beast is angry again! It's howling again!" With all his strength he tried to get up, but just wasn't able to manage it. After failing down several times he was finally able to sit up ... The room was as empty as a tomb, everyone was gone. All of a sudden he remembered that they had been talking about the boat while they were there, then they all ran off together. Eventually he was able to make out the hoarse roar of the "hard chime breakers." He reached out and groped around for his walking stick. No sooner did he make a move than he fell heavily from the bed. Yet he still reached out and groped around again...

On the shore people were still throwing wood onto the fire. The sky was gradually beginning to lighten, but the boat had still not gotten near the shore. The men on the boat had struggled with all their strength all night long, and they could have been swallowed by the great breakers at any time. But they still wouldn't let the boat broach, nor would they let it get too close to the "hard chime breakers."---That kind of wave would toss the boat upwards, then cast it heavily back into the deepest trough between the waves. The people on the shore shouted to them. The chaotic sounds of their voices were filled with fear and concern.

In the meantime there was a dark figure moving ever so slowly towards the bonfire.

Because he moved so slowly it was daybreak by the time that he arrived at the fire. As soon as people saw him they were startled --- Old Captain Ge! A lot of people looked at him but couldn't believe their eyes. They took a couple of steps backwards and started to murmur in amazement. How could this man who had not long ago been lying on his bed gasping for breath have made his way to the beach all on his own!?

It was as if some divine force was helping him. For a time they all just gazed at him with eyes wide, but no one could speak. When he walked it, was truly a huge effort, with both hands clinging to the walking stick, he edged forward, little by little. His small yellow eyes were frighteningly bright, but he didn't look at anyone, fixing his eyes only on the ocean waves and the boat that struggled in their midst. When people went up and tried to hold him up he didn't budge. When they wanted to pull him along his sharp, commanding voice forced them to retreat.

"You! Ah, ah, oh ... cough! Cough, cough..."

The old captain began to shout orders towards the ocean, his voice was so loud it seemed as though it could not have been his own. His face flushed purplish red as his coat flapped open, allowing everyone to see his long, bright scar.

On the boat Old Uncle Seven shouted towards the shore: "Old Captain Ge ---- Old Captain---"

Old Ge started to bellow; his deep, dull voice sounded like claps of thunder. Several of the people standing around him stepped back in fear. He bellowed and raised his walking stick high into the air with both hands, then pulled it violently back towards his chest.

Old Uncle Seven saw this clearly from the boat'and he ordered his sons: "Pull up the drift net, pull it up onto the boat!"

Again Old Ge started bellowing and stamping his foot at the same time. With great effort he took the walking stick and put it to his head, then across his shoulders, and then pushed it forcefully forwards to the right.

On the boat Old Uncle Seven ordered his sons: "Quickly, turn the stern a little to the north, use the oar, hard!..."