He almost drops to his knees when his feet return to the deck, his stomach flopping in the pit of his gut, but blowing out a harsh breath, he holds his feet. He turns to look at Apollo just in time to watch him blast a piece of debris out of the way with literal eye-lasers.

"Seriously?" he mutters. "Is there anything you can't do?"

It was enough to give a guy a complex,... if said guy didn't have a job of his own to do. Dry expression aside, he meets the wave with a nod and turns to start clomping his way to the jam.