Polar Shift Read Online Free PDF

lesser vessels scurrying for cover and given their captains sweaty palms. But Beaumont was as calm as if he were gliding in a gondola along the Grand Canal.
    The soft-spoken Cajun loved storms. He reveled in the give-and-take between his ship and the elements. Watching the way the Belle blasted her way through the seas in an awesome display of power gave him an almost sensual thrill.
    Beaumont was the vessel's first and only captain. He had watched the Belle being built and knew every nut and bolt on the ship. The ship had been designed for the regular run between Europe and America, a route that took it across some of the most cantankerous ocean on the face of the earth. He was confident that the tempest was well within the forces that the ship had been built to withstand.
    The ship had loaded its cargo of synthetic rubber, fiber filaments, plastics and machinery in New Orleans, then sailed around Florida to a point halfway up the Atlantic Coast, where it began on a straight-line course to Rotterdam.
    The weather service had been right on the nose with its forecast. Gale-force winds had been predicted, developing into an Atlantic storm. The storm caught the ship about two hundred miles from land. Beaumont was unperturbed, even when the winds intensified. The ship had easily survived worse weather.
    He was scanning the ocean when he stiffened suddenly and seemed to lean into the lenses. He lowered the binoculars, raised them again and muttered under his breath. Turning to his first officer, he said:
    "Look at that section of ocean. Around two o'clock. Tell me if you see anything unusual."
    The officer was Bobby Joe Butler, a talented young seaman who hailed from Natchez. Butler had made no secret of his wish someday to command a ship like the Belle. Maybe even the Belle itself. Following the captain's lead, Butler surveyed the ocean around thirty degrees off starboard.
    He saw only the gray, mottled water stretching toward the misted horizon. Then, about a mile from the ship, he sighted a white line of foam at least twice as high as the sea in the background. Even as he watched, the mounding water grew rapidly in height as if it were drawing power from the surrounding waves.
    "Looks like a real big sea coming our way," Butler said in his Mississippi drawl.
    "How big do you estimate it to be?"
    The younger man squinted through the lenses. "Average seas have been running around thirty feet. This looks to be double that. Wow! Have you ever seen anything this big?"
    "Never," the captain said. "Not in my whole life."
    The captain knew his ship could handle the wave if the Belle faced into it bow first to cut down the area of impact. The captain ordered the helmsman to program the auto-steer to face the oncoming wave and keep it steady. Then he grabbed the mike and flipped a switch on the console that would connect the bridge with speakers all over the ship.
    "Attention all hands. This is the captain. A giant rogue wave is about to hit the ship. Get to a secure location away from flying objects and hold on. The impact will be severe. Repeat. The impact will be severe. "
    As a precaution, he ordered the radioman to broadcast an SOS. The ship could always send out a recall, if needed.
    The green, white-veined wave was about a half mile from the ship. "Look at that," Butler was saying. The sky was lit up by a series of brilliant flashes. "Lightning?"
    "Maybe," the captain said. "I'm more concerned about that damned sea!"
    The wave's profile was unlike anything the captain had ever seen. Unlike most waves, which slope down at an angle from the crest, this one was almost straight up and down, like a moving wall.
    The captain had a peculiar out-of-body sensation. Part of him watched the advancing wave in a disinterested, scientific fashion, fascinated by the size and power, while another part stood in helpless wonder at the immense, menacing power.
    "It's still growing," Butler said with unabashed awe.
    The captain nodded. He guessed the