That cloth happened to be Jim's shirt, and the touch alone was enough to get his attention. Fingers failed to grasp at his shirt, and he tried to reach out to her instead, her arm practically slipping through his fingers.

He didn't know where he got the sudden strength— panic, possibly, or just the motivation in him that ever refused to yield to anything, but he managed to swim against the tide, taking on the waves in what felt like a nearly insurmountable fight, finally managing to catch her, this time his arm wrapping tight around her waist. His other arm started winding around the rope, tugging hard and hoping someone up on the ship would hoist them up, his legs folding and his feet planted onto the side once they were closer to the hull.