The Death of the Elver Man (24 page)

Paul distributed packed lunches to everyone and they sat down to eat whilst they waited for the raft. The sea was a bit rough, Alex thought, casting an anxious look over her
shoulder
as she munched on her sandwich. She was getting very nervous and the food tasted of nothing. She was just
wrapping
it up again when a familiar voice said, ‘Are you
wanting
that?’ and Lauren, their nominated first-aider, appeared, clambering determinedly over the piles of stones towards them, followed by Jonny who looked decidedly rakish in a pink vest and tiny cut-offs.

‘Nice outfit,’ she murmured, as he settled next to her, stretching out on the beach.

‘Mmm … well, you’ve got to look your best. I often come down here. It’s the perfect place to pick up things.’

Alex looked at him suspiciously and he gave a disarming smile. ‘Fossils dear, the place is just lousy with fossils.’

Somehow she doubted Jonny spent his afternoons hunting for ammonites, but before she could think of a suitable retort a shout went up from the group and Eddie’s car appeared down the road towing the raft. There was a scramble for the trailer as it slowly ground to a halt and in a few minutes the men had the craft unstrapped and were checking it over.

‘Leave it on the trailer,’ yelled Eddie, as he got out of the car. ‘It can get damaged on the stones, so leave it there. We’ll have to carry it down to the water after the inspection but it’s safer up there until then.’

‘What inspection?’ asked Alex, who for one mad moment had hoped they would drop the raft on the rocks and scupper the whole thing.

‘It’s got to be measured and checked over to make sure it complies with the rules,’ said Eddie.

‘There are rules for this event?’ Alex was incredulous.

‘Of course there are,’ said Eddie. ‘You don’t think you can just turn up with any old thing and paddle out to sea? There’s rules about size, number of crew, type of paddles –
everything
really.’ He handed her a piece of paper with a dozen bullet points printed in dark blue ink.

‘At least four feet wide,’ she read. ‘At least two crew
members
. No oars or double-ended paddles and life jackets must be worn …’ She turned the page over but it was blank. ‘
Nothing
about it being seaworthy I notice.’

Eddie laughed and slapped her on the shoulder. ‘I love your sense of humour,’ he said. ‘Oh, here they come. I’ll get the life jackets out. Time to suit up.’

He almost skipped over to the car in his excitement,
leaving
Alex regretting even the minimal part of the sandwich she had just eaten.

About twenty groups were now gathered on the beach and rafts of every size, shape and colour dotted the pebbles. Some were strictly business-like with sleek lines and stern; several were almost playful with sea horses and mermaids fixed to the sides; at least one looked downright lethal, comprising several oil drums, some wood that appeared to have come from a broken fence and a pirate flag nailed to its stern. The harbour master stopped at this sorry craft and shook his head, consulting with the coastguard before, with a marked reluctance, handing the lads next to it an official number.

‘Right,’ said Eddie, giving a bright orange tabard with the number ‘7’ printed on it to Pete their bow man, ‘everyone ready? All checked your jackets? Now, remember, keep the raft up until you’re a good way out. If a wave catches it and it hits the bottom that can damage the air tanks and we need those. You’re allowed to go out above knee deep before you have to get in, so Alex and Brian – you hop in first and keep it steady for the rest. Tom,’ he pointed to the steersman, a sleek, muscular man with long dark hair, ‘you keep pushing as far as you can, but make sure you do get in. We’d be stuffed without you.’ He grinned nervously and suddenly it was all very real and happening very fast.

Alex just had time to catch Lauren’s eye and receive a quick thumbs-up from Jonny before a whistle blew and the beach was a mass of crews hauling their rafts towards the water. There was a lot of shoving as the teams jostled for position, the strongest and fittest standing ankle deep in the water whilst the less experienced took their places behind them. Alex gripped her paddle in both hands and took up position behind the rest, wondering how she could be so cold yet still sweat so much. The pause seemed to last for ever as the sun beat down and Alex’s vision seemed to narrow to a tiny point focussed on the waves just beyond Mick’s right shoulder. Then there was a second blast of the whistle and the teams lunged forwards into the surf.

The water was so cold it took Alex’s breath away. In a few seconds she was up to her knees in it and soaked down
one side from the splashing, as the crew plunged forwards into the waves. Disoriented from the shock of the sudden cold, the dazzling light reflecting off the water and the shouts and roaring from the sea around her, Alex stopped, stepped forwards again and almost slipped over on a small rock. A hand grabbed her elbow to steady her and then she was being dragged forwards, water up to her thighs and shoved
unceremoniously
into the fragile safety of the raft. Brian popped over the side next to her and slid into his place as the craft tilted alarmingly before righting itself.

‘Come on,’ he yelled, ‘we got to keep it steady, else it’s just us all the way to Minehead!’ He dug his paddle into the water, pushing the raft around as Pete slithered in and set his weight to holding the raft against the waves that threatened to push it back on to the beach. Brian was grinning like a madman as he worked the oar and Alex took a firm grasp of her paddle and leaned over to help. The swirling water almost tore it from her grasp as she tried to find an angle that allowed her to make an impact on the raft’s rocking.
Suddenly
the resistance was gone and she made a great swipe at nothing, almost overbalancing.

‘Sorry,’ chorused Mick and Chris, as they wriggled into position in front of her and Brian. ‘Reckon we should have gone one at a time,’ Mick gasped. There was now a fair amount of water slopping around in the bottom of the raft, but everyone except Tom was on board. With a final heave he tumbled over the stern and Pete began to set a beat for the rowers. After a few false starts they fell into the familiar rhythm, the hours of practice paying off as slowly and
painfully
they pulled clear of the surf at Watchet and began the long crawl round to Minehead.

It was nothing like their training runs on the river, Alex realized. The Parrett was relatively smooth and calm, and although it had a definite current it was at least consistent. The sea was rough, wild and tore at them every way it could, at least until they were clear of the beach. The raft, steered by the unflappable Tom, headed directly for the place where
the waves formed into breakers and for a horrible moment they rose up and up, hovering on the peak before plunging into the calmer troughs behind. After three breakers Alex was feeling seasick, her head spinning with the noise and the constant motion, but she gritted her teeth and dug in with the paddle, determined not to disgrace herself. Then suddenly they were clear and the sea changed from frothing madness to hard, bright glass. The sunlight sparkled as it was refracted off the rippling surface and the roaring of the surf faded away behind them.

‘All right!’ shouted Pete. ‘We is clear – off we go now,’ and he began to chant a beat. Alex glanced around and saw relief on everyone’s face and realized she was not the only one who’d wondered if they were actually going to make it out to sea. For the first time she felt a part of this motley crew and she bent to the paddling with a will. There was something almost therapeutic about subsuming your
individuality
, becoming part of something rather than being all of it, she thought. Despite her cold, wet feet, her terror and the lingering nausea she was actually rather enjoying herself. There were a number of other rafts around them and several lagging behind. A glance over her shoulder showed the first casualties, amongst them the pirate raft that broke apart, oil drums bobbing on the sea as the two young men tried to climb on to them to wait for the lifeboat. One of them waved the flag above his head, whooping and laughing.

‘’Tis our best race yet,’ he called out, ‘never made it off the beach before!’ As the field began to open up, the crew bent to the serious task of propelling their frail craft all the way to the finish line.

In Minehead the crowds were gathering and a party
atmosphere
was developing as the pubs opened and friends and rivals massed to witness the finish of the race. There were occasional bulletins broadcast from the coastguard boat standing off from the race, and bets were laid under tables and in shady corners as the ever-changing odds attracted
those wanting to chance a few quid on the outcome. Eddie parked the car and trailer in the nearest pub car park and made his way down to the quayside where he was joined by Lauren, Jonny and Paul Malcolm. They found a space on a low wall and settled down to wait, cool drinks and left-over sandwiches set out around them. Eddie squinted up at the sun, which was beating down fiercely and sending reflections off the water.

‘Maybe they should have worn hats,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think of hats. What do you reckon Paul?’

Paul stared out to sea and sipped his cola thoughtfully. ‘I reckon it’s a bit late to worry about that now,’ he said. ‘You did a cracking job Eddie, just getting them here. Let’s just hope they make it eh?’

They sat in silence as the crowd swelled around them and a band began to play in anticipation of the triumphant arrival of the rafts.

For over a mile the Probation raft held its own against better trained and more experienced crews, and there was a quality of grim determination setting in by the time they approached Warren Point. Propelling a raft through the sea, even a
relatively
calm sea, is a very different prospect to paddling around on a river. The salt water splashed over them, leaving their hair and faces sticky with salt, and their wet clothes began to chafe in a number of unfortunate places. Their eyes stung from the spray, their hands were beginning to blister and they were all starting to burn from the fierce sun. Alex plunged on, although every muscle in her back and shoulders was starting to complain. A short while later Tom gave an anxious call.

‘Pete? Pete, there’s something not quite right about the steering.’

Everyone stopped paddling and looked round at him and the raft began to yaw to the left.

‘Get on with it!’ yelled Pete. ‘You’m can’t stop now – we is almost at Warren Point and there’s a right strong current there. Reckon that’s what you feeling, Tom.’

Tom shook his head but said no more as they inched their way across the unforgiving sea and out of the slight shelter offered by the Point. The smooth surface of the water began to ripple and then fracture as they turned towards the
stiffening
breeze and for the first time Alex felt the raft tilt a little to the left and recover just a bit too slowly. Although the sea was rougher, paddling seemed a bit easier and she dug in, still matching the men stroke for stroke until there was another dip and a splash of sea water rolled over her side and in to the raft. She instinctively stopped paddling and flung her weight towards Brian bouncing him off the pace.

‘Heh, watch out now,’ he protested, nudging her back and sticking out his elbow. Then he noticed the water spilling over the side again and he stopped paddling too. ‘Oh bugger.’

Pete, still unaware of the problem, yelled at them to get working.

‘Come on, ’tis the hardest part, but once we’s round this ’tis easy into the harbour. Don’t you bloody dare quit on us now.’ He lifted the paddle and added his own weight to their forward motion, but the raft was listing more noticeably now and Tom joined Alex in leaning to the right in an attempt to lift the left side clear of the waves.

‘We’m in trouble back here,’ he yelled, but this had the effect of causing all the other rowers to swivel round towards him. Alex felt the raft dip as she overbalanced and tried to compensate by grabbing Brian as the first of the cross-
currents
hit the raft causing it to buck like an angry horse. The craft began to turn away from the current and she executed a neat back-flip into the sea.

Alex made a grab for the raft but it was already out of reach. Opening her mouth to yell she swallowed a great lungful of water and began to choke, thrashing wildly as she started to panic. A wave slapped her in the face and she went under for a second before her life jacket propelled her to the surface once more.

‘Keep your mouth closed!’ Alex thought, struggling for some self-control. The water was desperately cold but seemed
to warm slightly as she ploughed through the waves towards the raft. The water dragged at her clothes threatening to pull her under again and she thanked Eddie for his insistence on decent life jackets. Suddenly she felt something give around her shoulders and to her horror the top strap of her life jacket pinged past her ear. Water snuck in between the smooth
surface
of the buoyancy floats and her body and she felt it begin to drag away leaving one side of her body supported and threatening to roll her over in the water. It was impossible to make any progress against the pull of the jacket and she stopped to tread water. Just as she gained some equilibrium the other strap went and the whole jacket began to uncoil around her. Her breath was coming in short gasps and her legs were getting heavy, exhausted from the effort involved in keeping afloat. Her head dipped under the water and she couldn’t see when she surfaced, blinded by the salt and her own hair. The thought that she might actually drown out here flashed through her mind and then a familiar voice called, ‘Got you now!’ Eager hands grabbed for her and she was bundled unceremoniously into the raft as the lifeboat hove to, stopping a few yards away.

‘Stand by to receive a tow,’ boomed a voice, only to be greeted by jeers from the crew.

‘Where was you a couple a minutes ago then?’ yelled Brian. ‘You wasn’t that eager then. Well you bugger off now.’