Landfall

After five grueling weeks at sea — the last two spent battened below decks in torrential monsoon rain — the party finally glimpsed the mouth of the Hooghly River. The water had turned the color of milky tea, and both banks were low, unbroken walls of jungle pressing close to the waterline. The smell of land reached them first: wet earth, wood smoke, and something sweet and rotten underneath it all. A company pilot climbed aboard without a word of invitation and took the helm, navigating the…