Ember awoke with a start as the sounds of frightened passengers and splintering wood ricocheted around his cabin. 
He had extinguished the lights in his room hours ago, but the unmistakable sound of water trying to shoot in under the doorframe was immistakable. 

He fumbled for his wand in his foot locker, as the water relentlessly rushed in behind him, getting his butt and legs wet as he knelt down.  Finding what he was after, he quickly illuminated the room. There were several inches of water on the far corner, indicting the ship had an aftward list; a condition that did not bode well for the survivability of the vessel.

"BLOODY HELL!"  he rasped like an angry cat, while cursing to himself internally for not bringing a more suitable wand with him.

This was supposed to be a simple business trip-- and---

"MY BABIES!" he shrieked, realizing his **ENTIRE** spring collection-- that had intended to display to this year's student body-- was probably already under several feet of water in the deck below.  He was now, well and truly enraged by the situation, bordering on panic and despair. Only the anger was keeping his wits sharp, and he knew it, as his face twisted into an almost demonic possessed snarl surrounding wide whites with brown circles for eyes, frenzied expression.

Saying nothing more, he spun around, faced the door, then blew it off the hinges, just as the ship lurched again in the turbulent waters. 

"Come darling-- We wont lose you too--" he furiously fumed, flicking the wand behind him. The foot locker rose up on one of those silvery cushions, and glided obediently behind him, as he attempted to storm out through the now freely floating door into the hammock sleeping area outside.  

Crew were scampering to the mess and galley, passengers were grasping at each other trying to get to the ascending stair, while more crew was barking angrily at them to stay below deck to avoid being washed away by the surf above.

Continuing the storming glide, and monitoring the flow of water gushing around his feet, he stormed to the dining area, where the ship's carpenters were furiously trying to hammer tar soaked oakum into a nasty gash in the wall.

"We'll all drown before you have that patched. OUT OF THE WAY." he barked, before leveling the wand at the wall, then sending a brilliant white flash from his wand toward it.  The room filled with blue-white light, and in the space of a breath after, a thick encasement of ice clung in and to it where the split had formed. The wand was hot in his hands, as it had not been made to practice magic like a firehose-- or even at all really-- and its materials were protesting against such use; threatening to melt in half and seriously burn his hands, should he try such a thing again.  With a scowl, he crouched, and dunked it into the water still swishing around on the floor, where it made an audible hiss from contact with the cold ocean water.  

The carpenters looked at him with bewilderment, and a touch of disdain, as the concept of how to deal with ice on top of the damaged wall flashed through their minds-- if their expressions were any indication-- but the pregnant pause did not last. Another hideous groan and crash, and the ship lurched once more, before water practically blasted in through the now 'clearly fractured beyond all repair' galley's doorframe, despite the coating of ice that had smattered it. If anything, the ice was all that was keeping the door on, under the relentless pressure behind it.

"Oh--- SHIT."

From above deck, orders from the boson and boson's mate could be distantly heard over the furtive voices of the other passengers and the thundering waves. 

'PASSENGERS AND CREW TO THE LONG BOATS-- '

Neither he, nor the ship's carpenters wasted time-- almost in unison, they turned from the doomed wall of the ship toward the stairs, ushering people above deck as the evacuation was being overseen by men tied to long ropes, being washed this way and that by the water cresting over what was left of the ship, working hurriedly and furiously to make the ship's pinnace and longboats ready. 

It felt like an eternity, with water steadily rising behind...

The line was just beginning to move, (indicating that the crew had some manner of success with one of the smaller craft tied up above deck), when the barely held on galley door exploded from its hinge, and a mighty swell of water gushed into the ship from below, pushing Ember and his current company up the stairs like a champagne cork leaving the bottle.  

Barely grasping hold of the hovering footlocker like it was a life preserver, he quickly found himself being tossed and tussled by the relentless waves after being sprayed out, and over the deck railing.

Cursing and profanity that would have rivaled any sailor's was drown out by the cacophony of voices, shrieking wind, and the ever present sound of rain and splintering timber, while he furiously worked his magic, creating a tiny shelf of ice just beneath and around the small foot trunk he was clinging to like a man on a saddle. 

Time seemed to stretch, as if the dreadful storm would never end. The sounds of the ship became less, and the sound of the storm took over. It was everything the poor mage in waterlogged pajamas could do, just to keep the small raft of ice above water. He didn't have time, or energy, for anything else.