November-Charlie (14 page)

She turned on the radio and re-tuned it to the shipping channel. The news was not good. The printer clattered again, confirming what she had heard minutes before.

The tropical storm, which had created havoc and caused damage on Bermuda, had collided with the large front coming in from the west. It had been upgraded to a hurricane. Its current course and speed took it away from them, but there was still a chance of rough weather reaching them. Or the storm could change direction.

She turned down the bridge lights and gazed into the darkness. The searchlight shone across the black water, the few stars glimmered between the clouds. It all seemed so peaceful out there.

Footsteps behind her made her turn.

“Jim...”

“Lou...”

“You go first,” Jim said.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean it.”

“That’s OK.”

An awkward silence fell between them.

Then Lou said, “Your turn.”

“I haven’t slept. I can’t. I am so sorry I hurt you. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“It’s OK. I forgive you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Like I said, it wasn’t really your fault. But you scared me when I thought you didn’t want Staci to have help.” She smiled at him. “Do it again and I’ll put you in the brig for the next seventy-five years.”

“We don’t have a brig.”

“Then I’ll make one.”

Lou fell into his opened arms and they hugged. They basked in each other’s arms, taking comfort after the grueling emotions. The first step on a long road.

“What’s the weather doing?” Jim asked, as he released her.

Lou sighed at the loss of warmth. “Nothing good. Hurricane Erika is a category three. Minimum surface pressure of nine hundred forty-five millibars. Storm surges of nine to twelve feet or two point seven to three point eight meters if you prefer metric. Maximum sustained winds of up to one hundred thirty miles an hour.”

“Heading?”

“Should miss us by a hundred miles. We’ll get rough seas, rain, and strong winds. Nothing we haven’t had before.”

Jim crossed to the chart table. “Unless it shifts course. What are the chances of it doing that?”

“Too early to tell. How’s Staci?”

“No change. You go and get some sleep.”

“OK. Night.” She turned to go.

“Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad we’re mates again.”

Lou smiled at him. “So am I. Love you too much to stay mad at you for long.”

She went down to the cabins, got ready for bed and crawled under the duvet, her mind in a whirl. The movement of the boat on the water usually relaxed her, but not tonight. She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. She opened them as a clunk disturbed her.

“Sorry,” Jim said softly. “I made some cocoa and thought you might like some.”

“Thanks.”

Jim sat next to her. “I’ve altered course slightly again. It’ll put us a few days behind schedule, but it will be worth it to avoid Erika.”

“I guess so. If Staci’s still out cold tomorrow, maybe we should radio for help. Talk to a doctor, at least.”

“That’d be good. Thanks.”

Lou handed him her mug. “Thanks for that. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night.”

Lou lay down again. What had seemed like fun when they left Southampton had lost its appeal.

Staci lay unconscious and they were stuck on this boat in the middle of nowhere, with no one around to help.

No one, despite what Jim thought about his God.

11

When Lou woke, Staci was sleepy but opened her eyes. As Lou dressed, Deefer ran into the room and licked her hand in greeting. Lou made a fuss of him. Then, she went to find Jim.

“Morning.”

“Hi. Sleep well?”

“Eventually.”

Jim handed her a mug of tea and a bacon sandwich. “I was going to bring this down to you, but seeing as how you’re up now...”

“Thanks.” She took them over to the table. “Staci’s awake this morning. Do you want me to contact someone today, or would you still rather we don’t in case they make us turn ourselves in?”

Jim sat down and looked at her. “I’ve been thinking about that. I can see your point. This is my sister’s life we’re talking about. I have to put the needs of my crew before my own. Any of my crew—including you. And yes, I would make the same decision if it was you down there.”

“Did I really accuse you of not doing that?”

Jim nodded. “We both said and did a lot we shouldn’t have done yesterday.”

“A new day today,” Lou told him. “Let’s start over.”

“If Staci is awake, though, maybe we leave it for now. And maybe she is best out of it today anyway.”

“Why?” Lou asked with her mouth full.

“It’s July seventh. Mum’s birthday.”

“Oh, Jim, I hadn’t realized. Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Better go back to the bridge.”

“I’ll be up in a bit.”

She picked up the box of cleaning stuff and went outside.

Once the polishing was done, Lou pulled out the yard broom, and began to sweep the decks. This was really tomorrow’s task, but if they got rain today, it needed to be done now.

She took down the washing, returned inside and checked Staci.

Her breathing seemed different somehow. Deeper and steadier, more like she was asleep than anything else.

Lou scribbled it in the notebook and then went up to the galley to start lunch. She dug out Staci’s soup recipe. OK, she decided, testing it half an hour later, it wasn’t as nice as Staci’s, but it was food.

She called Jim down and together they ate in silence. “That was nice. Thanks,” Jim said when he finished.

“Not as nice as Staci’s though.”

“She’s had more practice. I might go to bed for a bit if that’s all right. I feel really tired all of a sudden.”

“That’s fine. How’s the weather doing?”

“Erika’s kicking up a stink three hundred miles away. Here it’s OK.”

“Sleep well. See you later.”

Leaving Jim, Lou took her shift. She disengaged the autopilot and steered manually for a while, intently watching the sky. It was changing. Changing as she watched. She put the autopilot back on and increased speed slightly. Initially the sky was blue, with hardly a cloud in the sky--just a few high swirls. Then it started to cloud over, slowly at first, grey with a green tinge which got darker as the clouds piled up threateningly.

The wind picked up. The gentle breeze became stronger and rougher. Just after three, she hit the intercom. “Jim? Can you put the sail and mast down and top up the fuel tanks?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Lou heard Jim wrestle with the sail in the rising wind. Then the mast landed on the roof with a thud. As he came onto the bridge, the cloud cover became total, plunging them into darkness.

Dark green-black clouds hung above the ocean, threatening, menacing, and waiting to unleash themselves on an unsuspecting world.

Jim flipped on the bridge lights. Then he put on the running lights and mast lights. “I don’t like the look of this.”

Lou said, “Nor me. What do we do?”

“Keep sailing. It’s best to just try to ride the storm out. I don’t understand though, it should have missed us.”

The printer clattered into action again and spat out another weather warning. Jim grabbed it and checked it against the chart. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“Erika’s changed course. She’s headed right for us.”

Lou glanced out of the window. As she did so, a jagged flash of lightning tore the sky in two and the first few heavy drops of rain fell onto the deck. Thunder rolled in the distance.

“Here she comes,” Jim said. “You’d better let me take over. After all, I am the Captain.”

Jim took the wheel from her as another flash of lightning ripped the sky apart.

Lou glared, but he didn’t back down.

“Lou, I’m not going to argue now. You have a complaint, then put it in the log.” Thunder rolled again, closer now, and the wind began to howl. “She’s my ship. Just go and batten down the hatches.”

Deefer came hurtling onto the bridge, barking loudly. He buried his nose in Lou’s hand and worried it.

She knelt down and stroked him firmly. “It’s all right boy. Let’s go find Staci.”

The rain thudded and the boat rocked as the leading edge of the violent storm hit them. “I’ll get out of your hair,” Lou said. “If you need me, then shout.”

Jim nodded and glanced at the readouts.

Pressure was still dropping. Lightning flashed and the thunder followed less than six seconds later.

The boat rocked again, sending all the cups on the side to the floor.

Lou picked them up and put them in the cupboards. She fastened the storm catches, which prevented the cupboards from opening when the boat rolled.

Deefer howled and crept below Lou’s bed.

Lou hauled herself into the cabin, over to Staci’s bunk and strapped her in. The cut was bleeding again, so wedging herself to keep balanced, Lou fastened another bandage on top of the original one.

~*~

On the bridge Jim tried to keep
Avon
on course or at least heading the right way. Not knowing what experienced captains would do, he was reluctant to use the autopilot in case he needed to change course quickly. The wind hit with such force that
Avon
lurched, first one side touching the water, then the other.

The waves, Jim realized with horror, were as tall as
Avon
herself - if not taller. Wave after wave towered above the little boat, crashing onto her with resounding thuds, jarring already stressed timbers as they hit with enough force to severely damage the boat several times over. They rattled against the windowpanes, seemingly in direct competition with the rain.

Lightning flashed and the thunder answered almost immediately.

Jim struggled to keep control as they plunged from the dizzy heights of heaven to the bottomless pits of hell.

Avon
rolled and tossed and turned.

Jim swallowed, desperately trying not to be sick. Then he thought he was hearing things as a voice filled the boat, singing the sailor’s hymn by William Whiting. Jim recognized the voice as Staci’s, but not Staci’s.

“
Eternal Father, strong to save, whose arm hath bound the restless wave. Who bidd’st the mighty ocean deep its own appointed limits keep: O hear us when we cry to Thee for those in peril on the sea
.”

“Do you hear that?” Lou pulled herself up the steps to the bridge.

Before Jim had chance to answer the boat rocked under the impact of a huge wave and for several horrifying moments,
Avon
was completely submerged.

Lou grabbed onto the rail for support.

Jim clung to the wheel, desperately trying to bring the boat round. He swallowed several times, and as
Avon
finally surfaced, he sighed with relief. “Yes I did,” he said, answering Lou’s question. “Was it Staci?”

“No, she’s still out of it. It wasn’t me, either.” She looked at Jim closely. “You look like death warmed up. Are you OK?”

“Not really,” Jim admitted.

Lou grabbed the wheel. “Let me take over for a while,” she said firmly. “I may only be a girl, but I can sail and I don’t get seasick.”

Jim released the wheel. He was immediately knocked off his feet as
Avon
heaved over another gigantic wave. “I’ll be below,” Jim said. “Where’s Deefer?”

“Under my bed,” Lou replied not daring to take her eyes off what she was doing. “What heading, Jim?”

Lightning rent the sky in two, and as Jim replied the thunder drowned out his words.

“West,” he repeated. “Or as near as possible.”

As he disappeared below decks, the wind changed direction abruptly, throwing
Avon
to one side and tossing rain violently against the windows.

Lou lost her grip on the wheel and hit her head on the chart table before she could stop the fall. She felt her senses start to slide.

Lightning flashed, lighting the sky and surrounding sea.

Lou shook her head to clear it. What was that black thing ahead? She groped her way back across the sloping deck, reached out, and managed to grab hold of the wheel. Pulling herself up, Lou peered through the window into the murky blackness, wishing for lightning to illuminate the sea. Rain drummed relentlessly against the windows, blurring what little vision she did have. A sudden inspiration hit her, and she put the search light on.

Nothing happened. Apparently it was damaged.

Lou clung to the wheel, bracing herself for the impact as a wave lifted
Avon
. The boat landed with a jarring thud, plunging well below the surface of the sea. It seemed like an eternity until they surfaced. Something creaked ominously and one of the windows shattered, sending glass flying around the bridge. Sheet lightning illuminated the sky and surrounding sea for several seconds.

Just long enough for Lou to see what the black object in their path was.

It was another ship…or was it? How many old fashioned galleons were there these days?

Rain poured in through the broken window, pooling on the bridge floor. The proximity alarm went off.

She cancelled it and manhandled the wheel to port.
Avon
turned slowly, too slowly. “Come on.” Lou said. “Your name isn’t
Titanic
. Turn.”

Avon
still wouldn’t respond.

“I can’t turn fast enough. I’ll have to increase engine power.” She pulled the lever marked warp engine but instead of increasing speed, the engine sputtered and died completely. “No.”

She tried restarting them again and again, but still nothing. The proximity alarm went off again. “I know.” Hitting the intercom button she shouted, “Jim. I need you.” She used all her weight to pull on the wheel--willing the boat to turn.

Jim struggled onto the bridge. “What’s wrong?” he asked, slipping on the wet floor.

“There’s something out there. Another ship, I think. We’re on a collision course. She won’t turn quick enough.”

“Search light?”

“Broken.”

“Engines?”

“Off line.”