Sailing eight hundred miles in November on a tiny, twenty-ton boat was incredibly dangerous. However, the captain, John Bunsby, trusted his ship. Driven by the strong wind, the Tankadere bounced over the waves like a bird.
Fix sat at the front of the boat, lost in his thoughts. He believed Fogg's plan was simple: the criminal had traveled across the world to escape to the massive, wild lands of America. But Fix swore not to abandon his duty. He would follow Fogg all the way to the United States and wait for the legal papers. At least Passepartout was finally gone! Fix felt relieved that the servant couldn't warn his master.
Fogg and Aouda, however, were deeply worried about the missing Frenchman. They hoped they might find him when they finally reached Japan.
The next morning, the ship had traveled over a hundred miles. The wind was perfect, and the crew pushed the boat to its maximum speed, eager to win the huge two-hundred-pound bonus. Fix felt highly uncomfortable eating Fogg's food and traveling at his expense. He approached Fogg to pay for his share of the trip, but Fogg absolutely refused to take his money. Fix went back to his corner, frustrated and silent.
By evening, everything looked promising. But the next morning, the sky turned red, and the air felt heavy. The captain checked his instruments.
"I must be honest with you, sir," Bunsby told Fogg. "A typhoon is coming from the south."
"Good," Fogg replied calmly. "A wind from the south will blow us straight toward Shanghai."
"If you take it that way, I have nothing more to say," the captain muttered.
Bunsby prepared for the storm. He took down the large sails and raised a single, extra-strong storm sail. He ordered the passengers to go below deck for their safety, but none of them wanted to be trapped in the tiny, airless cabin. They all stayed outside.
At eight o'clock, the typhoon struck. The wind was so violent it lifted the small boat like a feather. Huge, mountainous waves chased them, but the captain steered with perfect skill. The passengers were constantly soaked with freezing water. Aouda watched Fogg, amazed by his perfect courage. Fogg acted as if the deadly storm was simply part of his schedule.
By nightfall, the wind changed direction, throwing the boat terribly from side to side. It was a true miracle that the ship did not sink. Fogg repeatedly rushed across the deck to protect Aouda from falling.
The next day, the storm finally passed, and the sun returned. The exhausted passengers finally ate and rested.
At dawn on the final day, the captain announced they were less than a hundred miles from Shanghai. If they didn't reach the city by seven o'clock that evening, they would miss the American ship to Yokohama.
The wind grew calmer, slowing the boat down. Everyone except Fogg felt their hearts beating with extreme anxiety. By six o'clock, they were still ten miles away from the river. By seven o'clock, they were three miles away. The captain cursed loudly. He was going to lose his massive reward! He looked at Fogg, who remained perfectly calm, even though his entire fortune was at stake.
Suddenly, a large ship with a smoking black chimney appeared in the distance. It was the American steamer, leaving Shanghai perfectly on time.
"Confound her!" Bunsby cried in frustration.
"Signal her!" Fogg ordered quietly.
There was a small brass cannon on the front of the boat used for making noise in thick fog. The crew quickly prepared it.
"Lower your flag to half-mast!" Fogg shouted. A lowered flag was the universal signal for a ship in distress. He hoped the American captain would see it and turn around to rescue them.
"Fire!" Fogg commanded.
The loud boom of the little cannon echoed across the ocean.