[Gale manages to grab hold of a longer wooden spar and clings there for a moment. He still hasn't actually caught sight of Katniss in all the chaos, but he's heard her voice, and that's enough for now.
As he starts pushing his support away from the boat, legs kicking clumsily, still weighed down by his shoes, he catches sight of his fishing line, hook snagged on a drowning curtain of sail. Rather than get clear of the sail, he closes with it, snagging the line around his arm and pulling the hook free.
He almost goes under, coughing and spluttering as folds of the sail catch at him and try to fold him up and pull him down, but at last he has it. Still clinging to the spar with one arm, he pulls the line short and spins it above the surface as though preparing to cast, then feeds out the line as much as he can, watching its arc until --]
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As he starts pushing his support away from the boat, legs kicking clumsily, still weighed down by his shoes, he catches sight of his fishing line, hook snagged on a drowning curtain of sail. Rather than get clear of the sail, he closes with it, snagging the line around his arm and pulling the hook free.
He almost goes under, coughing and spluttering as folds of the sail catch at him and try to fold him up and pull him down, but at last he has it. Still clinging to the spar with one arm, he pulls the line short and spins it above the surface as though preparing to cast, then feeds out the line as much as he can, watching its arc until --]
There! The forcefield is right there!