Knockdown (8 page)

The sailboat motored away
. A woman onboard watched us. The man behind the wheel never glanced our way.

“Right! What goes around—”
Jervis muttered.

Makala was
hysterical. “Mommy. I want Mommy.”

We were in fifteen feet of water. I wanted my mommy too.

Angelina tried to reassure Makala, but the little girl squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered.

Jervis
put his arm behind Angelina.

Nick joined
Zoë on the bench across from the girls and Jervis. “Makala, do you want to play
Angry Birds
?”

Makala hid
her face in Angelina’s shoulder.

Angelina shook her head and tried to grin.
“She’s just tired.” She cuddled and rocked her sister.

Jervis
glared at Nick.

“What?” Nick mouthed.

We were in fourteen feet of water. I listened to Makala’s muffled sobs and watched the shore rapidly approach. “Takumi, get my brothers. I’m out of ideas.”

We were in twelve feet of water. It was getting shallow fast.

Takumi moved toward the cabin, then stopped, and swung around. “What about the anchor?”

“The anchor?”

“Yeah, couldn’t we stop it from going ashore by dropping the anchor?”

I
squealed. “You’re brilliant. I don’t know why we didn’t think of it.”

Takumi grinned.

“Nick? Do you know how to drop the anchor?” We were in eleven feet of water. He ran to the bow. The sound of the anchor and chain dropping brought my brothers up onto the deck.

“
What in the hell do you think you’re doing
?” Dylan screamed.

Nick ignored him and concentrated on counting the red marks on the chain as it disappeared into the sea.

“I’m putting out twenty-five feet of chain
,” Nick yelled.

T
here was some formula my dad told me. So many feet let out for each foot of depth. But I couldn’t remember what it was.

We were in nine feet of water. We’d hit bottom soon.

“We didn’t know what else to do. There wasn’t enough wind and the tide was taking us in,” I said.

The anchor grabbed the bottom and the boat shuddered. We slowly drifted back to where Nick
dropped the anchor and eleven feet of water.

“Good thinking
, Toni.” Cole took the wheel.

“It was Takumi’s idea.”

Dylan and Cole stopped and stared at Takumi.

Takumi shrugged.

The sails still made a racket. “You should have checked with us first,” Dylan muttered as he pulled in the main.

“It got shallow fast.” I glared at him.

“You bought us time.” Cole tightened the flapping jib. “We read through the book and checked the engine, but we still don’t know what made it overheat.” He glanced around. “Has anyone gotten cell service?”

We pulled out our cells. No service.

“Nick, go below and bring up the engine book. We need to figure this out.” Cole tightened the knob that locked the steering wheel and rudder in place.

“What
might make an engine overheat?” Zoë asked.

“Honey, I don’t think you …” Dylan began.

Zoë scowled.

I glared at Dylan. “Cole said we need to work together to get through this. So let’s work together.” I faced the others. “Okay
, guys. What makes an engine overheat?”

Jervis
sat up. “Is the engine out of oil?”

“No, we found the dip stick. It has oil
.” Cole nodded at the instrument panel. The engine had cooled and the light had gone to green.

“Maybe it fixed itself?” Angelina said.

“I wish,” I mumbled.

“If a radiator is out of water, the engine will overheat
,” Jervis said.

C
ole’s face was flushed. “We couldn’t find a radiator.”

Zoë
looked thoughtful. “So a radiator holds water that cools an engine. But you couldn’t find a radiator. Maybe because it’s a boat engine? Maybe it uses the water it sits on somehow.”

“Yeah. Some kind of pump that takes water from the sea to cool the engine.” I was getting hopeful.

Nick showed up with the book.

Cole took it from him and thumbed to the
index. “Water intake.” He flipped the pages.

I opened the deck table and everyone but Makala and Angelina stood staring down at the book. Makala sniffled. Takumi put his finger on a diagram.

Zoë began to read out loud. ”The filter should be examined and emptied often. If fish or other debris are sucked up, it can stop the water flow and the engine will overheat.” She pointed at the passage she’d read. “Did you guys check the filter?”

“We didn’t know there was one.” Dylan squinted at Cole.

I stayed on deck with Takumi, Angelina, and Makala. The rest went below to find a filter.

A
short while later Zoë brought up a small wire basket full of greenish-black goo. ”Got it. It’s full of cooked seaweed.” She cleaned out the basket, throwing the stuff overboard. “Jervis found the filter. Men and motors… complicated things.” She raised her eyebrows and went below.

What was that all about, I wondered as she disappeared. I shrugged and continued my silent prayer asking for the engine to start.
My shaking had stopped but I’d started staring at the shoreline and wondering how long it would take us to row ashore and climb up the Olympic Mountains.

T
he group assembled on deck.

“Okay, cross your fingers
.” Cole put in the key. The engine rumbled, belched smoke, and died.

“Give it a minute. Maybe it has to
re-suck up water,” I suggested.

Cole wiggled the gearshift
, making sure it was out of gear. He turned the key again. It sputtered twice and stopped. Jaws tight, he tried the key a third time. The engine coughed and more smoke bellowed. Just when we thought it was going to fail again, the engine roared to life.

The crew stood. Smiles broke out on some faces. Others closed their eyes and sighed with relief.

Nick yelled, “All right!”

Zoë
gazed longingly at the shore.

Makala stopped whimpering and put her thumb in her mouth.

“We’re going to be okay, baby.” Angelina kissed her sister’s forehead and smiled shyly at Nick.

Jervis moved beside Angelina and started to put his arm around her. Makala reached out to him, so he picked her up instead. The little girl wrapped her arms around his neck.

Cole raised his head. “Good job
, everyone.” His voice choked with emotion. I hugged him. He pointed to the water spurting out of a small chrome pipe off the stern. He trembled as we stood together watching the clear engine exhaust.

Dylan checked his cell. “
Let’s get going. We lost almost an hour.”

What a downer.

C
hapter Nine

Six Hours Before

Zoë was sick. She lay on the side of the boat’s forward decking, her head hanging over the water. The sun was low in the sky and the wind gentle. Except for the occasional groan and whiff of vomit, it was a lovely night.

We passed by the city of Port Angeles, the last town on the coast of the Straits
of Juan de Fuca. There was no sign of life in the deserted city. Soon, there would be no more towns and no more green trees.

We were almost to the ocean. Gentle swells rocked the boat, growing deeper and deeper th
e farther from land we got.

“Race Rocks.” Cole pointed toward a group of rocks
we were passing. “That’s the point we sail around during the Swift Sure Race from Victoria. We are now officially in the Pacific Ocean.”

Nobody said a word. I watched the receding coastline. My heart pounded and it was hard to breathe. Doubts plagued me. I gritted my teeth. What had Dad been thinking? The Pacific Ocean is one of the
roughest oceans in the world. How could Dad send us out to sea, all alone?

Zoë
moaned and leaned further over the side. Dylan scrunched his bruised nose.

T
akumi held his head in his hands.

I took a bottle of water to
Zoë and came back to the cockpit. My fingers rested on Takumi’s arm. “Your dinner was great. Really. I ate a ton and I’m fine. Your cooking didn’t make her sick.”

“She threw up right after dinner.” He
glanced at Zoë, who lay flat on her back with her eyes closed. “I think I should get rid of the leftovers.”

Jervis
’ head popped up. “What? No, don’t do that. It was good. Really good.”

“Everyone else is fine. Leave it.” Nick leaned back into the stern seat, his arm covering his nose.

Zoë
threw up again. Dylan gagged.

Cole held the wheel and checked the wind.
“Tomorrow’s going to be a hard day. I’m not sure we should turn the gas on at all. Not a good idea to be cooking when a boat goes over. And you made a lot. We can just eat it cold.”

“I kinda planned it that way. But that was before
Zoë got sick.” Takumi shook his head.

“Quit talking about food,”
Zoë groaned.

“I’m surprised no one got seasick before this. Believe me. It wasn’t what she ate.” Cole adjusted the steering wheel.

Zoë gargled with the water and spit overboard. Dylan sent worried glances her way. I’d never seen him so gentle and caring.

The boat dipped, almost head first down into the bottom of a wave. Water splashed over the bow, soaking
Zoë, and entering the open hatch in the bow cabin.

Zoë
screamed, bolted to her feet, and scrambled back to the cockpit. Sliding to a stop, she leaned into Dylan, who wrapped a dirty towel around her and pulled her onto his lap. “Take me back,” she whined.

The boat headed into another wave. We could hear dishes shift and loud crashes from the cabin below.

Cole yelled, “Toni, make sure all the hatches are closed and nothing is bouncing around down there.”

The boat angled sharply again
, heading into another deep swell. I held on and waited for it to bottom out, then hurried to the forward hatch and pulled it closed seconds before water crashed over the bow again.

Takumi
followed me. He braced himself in the galley, duct taping the top of the big pot of steak and vegetable stir-fry he’d made for dinner. Plastic dishes rattled and clanged in the double sink. He put the pot in the refrigerator and started picking the pieces of a broken jar of soy sauce out of the sink.

“Need help?” I stumbled and
fell into him. He steadied me and we clung together while hanging onto the sink. What felt like a bolt of electricity passed between us.

We stared wide
-eyed at each other.

Another wave hit. I
seized the overhead railing and stepped away.

This time
Takumi’s face was red. “I’m going to…I’ll try to…umm, wash dishes before anything else breaks.” He turned on the hot water.

Before I could re
spond, Dylan showed up and grabbed my arm. “Is there a bucket or something Zoë can use?” He made a face and began wiping vomit off his shirt with the kitchen sponge.

“Don’t use…” I snatched the sponge away and threw it in the trash before handing him a plastic salad bowl. He sniffed his shirt, gagged again, and climbed back on top.

Takumi reached into the trash and retrieved the sponge. “I’ll boil it. It’s the only one we have.”

“You’re right,” I said. “It’s going to be hard to get used to not just throwing away stuff.”

Takumi shrugged and added detergent to the hot water. He wasn’t looking at me.

The boat
headed up another wave. The water sloshed in the sink. Blankets, pillows, and seat cushions slid off the couches and onto the floor.

Angelina stood wedged in
the door frame of the girls’ cabin. She and Makala had been taking a nap.

“What’s happening?” A look of terror crossed her face.

“We made it to the ocean. You okay?” I asked.

“Just scared.” She took a step forward. The boat began to dip again. We gripped the overhead railings.

“We’re in some big swells. I’ve been in lots worse. Believe me. This is a strong boat, built for rough water.”

Angelina
glanced back at the girls’ cabin. “Can you believe Makala’s still asleep? She’s curled up in the corner of the bed, dead to the world.”

I
grimaced at her choice of words, but smiled. “That’s super. She’s a good little sailor and it will be a short night. The tsunamis should hit around two in the morning.”