“This overreaction you mentioned. To what?” Hale asked.
“The weather,” Hollis said. “Competitive pressure. Inexperience.”
“Inexperience,” Whitcomb repeated quietly. She consulted her notes, then looked up, with a frown. “Midshipman Gallagher h as been participating in competitive racing since he was a plebe. Isn’t that correct?”
“I believe so.”
“He and his crew were going to finish out the year with no losses. Harvard was the last race for the season.”
Hollis cleared his throat. “Yes. That’s correct.”
“You assigned Midshipman Gallagher as Skipper in his third year. He’s been at the helm for eighteen months.”
“Yes, ma’am. I might have misspoke.”
Hale stepped in. “You chose to continue the leg as conditions deteriorated.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why?”
Hollis straightened. “Chain of command. Maintaining order. Preventing panic.”
Silence followed.
“Lieutenant Hollis,” Hale said, “did you threaten disciplinary action after the incident?”
Hollis stiffened. “I addressed blatant insubordination.”
“After a fatality,” Locke said.
Another whisper from counsel.
“I followed procedure,” Hollis said. “I’ve already stated my concerns to command regarding possible disciplinary action.”
Hale looked at him for a long moment. “This board will determine what recommendations, if any, are appropriate. Lieutenant Hollis, you are excused for now.”
Hollis blinked. “Sir?”
“Excused,” Hale said again. “Please remain available.”
Hollis stood, his movements no longer confident. His attorney gathered his folder and followed without a word.
The door closed behind them.
Fly remained still, hands folded, eyes forward.
Bridge’s testimony was brief and exact. She confirmed Fly’s warnings. She confirmed Hollis’s refusal. She described the wave forming faster than expected, and the moment Fly ordered her clipped in and off the bow. Her voice didn’t waver. She was dismissed.
Joss spoke next and admitted he had felt something was wrong before he could articulate it. He confirmed Fly’s warnings. He confirmed Hollis’s dismissal. His voice faltered once when he said he wished he had spoken sooner. The board thanked him.
Than’s testimony was devastating in its restraint. He confirmed the swell direction Fly had called. He confirmed the timing. He stated plainly that Fly’s turn prevented a full capsize. “You would have lost five instead of one,” Than said quietly, “if he hadn’t acted when he did.” No one asked him anything else.
Two midshipmen from Crimson Star were called next.
Both had been racing competitively since childhood. One since he was sixteen. They spoke with the ease of sailors who understood water before theory.
One described the wave. “The volume was unreal,” he said. “It wasn’t a set. It was a convergence. I watched the line snap. There wasn’t anything anyone could have done once it hit.” He swallowed hard. “Although an attempt was made.”
