Wong picked up the VHF radio. "Vessel on my starboard bow, this is Orient Star . Over."
Captain Elias buttoned the top clasp of his white uniform shirt. He checked his appearance in the mirror—weather-beaten skin, eyes crinkled from decades of squinting into sun and spray. He grabbed his peaked cap. "Acknowledged. I’m on my way." malacca and singapore straits pilotage
" Orient Star , this is Genesis . We see you. We are reducing speed to let you cross. Safe passage." Wong picked up the VHF radio
"End of pilotage," Elias said softly. "Engines on standby. We wait for our berth." I’m on my way
"And yours, Captain."
"Captain," Wong said, eyes scanning the horizon. "The currents here are tricky. The Southwest monsoon is setting in. We have a two-knot push. It helps our speed, but it fights the rudder."