by Liz Alden
The fish that came up was bigger than I’d expected. At half Eivind’s length, it was thick in the middle and the top was a dark blue while the bottom half was silver. Its eyes rolled around, tail slapping the air in its panic.
Eivind quickly laid it down on the tarp and pinned it with his knee. Marcella came in and slit the fish’s underside crosswise from gill to gill. Blood poured out and the fish twitched, then went still.
I couldn’t help but smile at our fortune from the sea. Everyone grinned too, the excitement palpable. But Eivind didn’t move as he watched the fish bleed out. Then I found out why—the fish went into death throes, the body spasming violently against the deck, Eivind holding on throughout the thrashing.
Finally the fish lay dead and Eivind removed himself. He and Jonas worked together to tie a line around its tail, its firm fins acting as a handle, and hoisted it overboard.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Bleeding the fish,” Eivind said. “It makes the meat taste better.”
Marcella and Elayna worked to rinse the blood off the tarp and the brothers high-fived.
“Wow,” Jonas said. “That was a fight.”
“That is the biggest fish we’ve caught,” Eivind agreed.
“For sure. It’s a yellowfin tuna. It is going to be so good,” Marcella exclaimed.
I leaned over the lifeline to look at our catch. The head was occasionally dunked, the salt water washing off the blood.
It was dragged over the side for a few minutes, then Jonas hoisted it onto the deck again—“Do not want to attract too many sharks and lose our catch”—and Marcella went to work.
Lightly running my fingers down the skin of the fish, I found that it was soft, like stroking the smoothest leather.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Makes me a little sad, actually.” I frowned, thinking about the life we’d taken now that the excitement was over.
“It is a little sad.” Jonas crouched down next to me. “But I think about the other meat we eat: the chickens, pigs, cows who have all had horrible lives. Or the fish in the supermarket, raised in a fish farm with runoff, or caught in a net with turtles, dolphins, and other life.” He patted the body beneath us. “This fish, it had a great, wild life. It was a quick death, and we will not let it be wasted.”
I nodded, blinking away tears. “That’s a beautiful way to look at it, Jonas.”
Marcella hunched over the fish, sawing away. The knife was sharp, but it was backbreaking work. Elayna helped, bringing up a platter for the loins Marcella cut from the carcass.
It took longer to cut the fish up than it did to catch it, but in the end, Marcella had four tuna loins, the meat shiny and strawberry red.
“How much meat do you think that is?” Eivind asked her.
She wiped the sweat off her brow with her forearm before replying. “Maybe ten servings per loin, four loins, eight meals?”
Downstairs, Marcella prepared the meat for freezing and shoved as much of it as she could into the freezer. We didn’t have room for all of it, so the rest went into the fridge.
“Tuna for breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” she teased.
“Lunch today is tuna poke. This is the last of it.”
We’d been eating tuna at every meal since we’d caught it several days prior. Marcella mixed the menu up, making sushi rolls one day, seared tuna another. She had to be creative with serving the same thing for days on end.
“Yum. What do we have for the condiments?” Eivind gestured at the various bowls and jars open on the tabletop.
Marcella pointed out each one. “Soy sauce, pickled ginger, here are some quick-pickled cucumbers and onions I made, brown rice . . .”
I started scooping items into my bowl, adding some wasabi and carrots, secretly wishing for some edamame to go with it.
“I looked at the weather forecast,” Jonas said over the cacophony of noises as everyone made their plates. “The wind is dying, and should stay pretty low over the next few days.”
Eivind perked up. “Does that mean we should get the spinnaker out after lunch?”
Thanks to my sailing book, I knew that spinnakers were very big sails made of thin material that could be used when the wind was really light.
“Ja. It is a good day for it. We can get it up this afternoon and then take it down before sunset.”
“We don’t leave it up all night?” I asked.
Eivind shook his head. “It is too dangerous. If a storm came up and we had to take it down quickly, we would need several people, and the risk of losing someone overboard would be too high. So we will only use it during the day.”
“You know, I could start taking a night shift now. I’m comfortable during the day watches, and I’m sleeping well and not seasick anymore.”
Jonas shrugged. “We are set in our schedules now—there is no need to change them.”
We ate quickly, and then the rest of the crew got to work. I stayed out of the way as they ran around the deck, positioning the lines just so. Finally, from the helm, Jonas used a crank to raise up something called a sock, which bundled the sail up. As he hauled it up, the sail filled with wind and Eik flew.
Jonas sat back and wiped the sweat off his brow. The huge crimson sail led the way, a startling color against the blue sky and sea around us.
“What is our speed now?” Jonas asked me as Eivind and Elayna climbed back into the cockpit.
I checked the screen. “Eight-point-one, eight-point-three . . .”
“She looks very good.” Eivind wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders as Eik cut through the water.
Our routine was fairly stable now, and I slept well enough that I woke up with Eivind and we did his morning shift together.
I climbed up the cockpit stairs to look for Jonas. He sat at the back of the cockpit, sipping a hot drink—decaf tea, probably—and gazing out at the ocean. The look on his face was so peaceful and serene, I hated to disturb him.
He turned and spotted me anyway.
“Morning.”
He smiled and tipped his drink to me, shifting in his seat and dropping his feet to the deck. I took the corner opposite him.
“You look so peaceful out here.”
“I love sunrise. Sunset is nice to enjoy with the crew, but I have the schedule that gives me sunrise all to myself. It is a beautiful way to start the day.”
Eivind appeared at the companionway and handed me my coffee.
“Yeah, nah, I like a leisurely morning in bed.”
The two brothers went over the conditions and sail plan, and once Eivind and I were settled in, Jonas disappeared down below.
I sipped my coffee while I watched Eivind in his deck harness and shorts. He checked the chartplotter and horizon, then walked the deck, checking lines and rigging. Then he stood in the cockpit, facing forward, and started squatting down and getting back up, squatting down and getting back up.
“What are you doing?” I giggled.
He looked at me over his shoulder. “Exercising.”
He did more squats, and I tilted my head, watching his butt flex and tighten.
“Do you do this every morning?”
“It helps me wake up.”
I ran a hand over my face. “God, you’re exhausting.” Though I had to admit, I didn’t mind the view.
Eivind did squats, push-ups, sit-ups, jumping jacks, and more until he was sweating. The movements were challenged by Eik, who did her best to knock Eivind off his feet. Several times he tipped over onto the bench and had to right himself.
“Is Eik biting you?” I asked after a particularly bad lurch had Eivind rubbing his knee.
“Maybe you should be doing some of these. It helps get energy out.”
“I have all the energy I need for reading, thank you very much.”
“Marcella and Elayna do yoga sometimes.”
I blanched. “On a moving boat? How is that even possible?”
Eivind showed off by moving into downward d
og.
“You tosser.” I threw a pillow at him.
Thirty-Two
A knock came on our cabin door. Through half-lidded eyes crusted with sleep, Eivind and I looked at each other and tugged the sheet up over our naked bodies.
“Yeah?” he said in a sleep-weary voice. Guessing by the light coming through the window, it was mid-morning and we were in the middle of our sleep time.
The door opened and Jonas poked his head into the cabin. “I’m going to need some help. We have a problem with one of the lines.”
“Ja,” Eivind replied, and Jonas ducked out of the room.
Eivind swung his legs out of bed and dressed. I followed, albeit at a slower pace. When I came up into the cockpit, with my harness strapped on, Elayna was still up and Jonas explained the issue.
“Elayna woke me up early. She was walking on the deck and tossing a flying fish overboard when she noticed the tack line for the spinnaker is chafing at the block. We need to bring the sail down and replace the line.”
Eivind nodded, and they discussed which line to use for the replacement. I knew from my book on sailing basics that the tack line was one of the three lines holding the sail onto the boat: the tack line was the bottom, the halyard was the top, and the sheet was the third line in the middle.
I stood out of the way while Jonas and Eivind prepared to furl the sail, putting lines on winches and bringing the spinnaker pole down.
Jonas started to crank the furling line in, twisting the drum at the bottom of the sail. Eivind released the sheet, allowing the sail to wrap tightly around the leading edge while Elayna waited at the tack with the replacement line.
I carefully maneuvered out to the middle of the deck, where I could lean against the mast and watch everyone work.
Suddenly there was a thunk and Elayna called to Jonas, “Stop! Stop!”
She crouched down at the base of the sail, inspecting the hardware and line. Jonas waited at the winch.
“Jonas! We have a problem!” Elayna shouted back at him.
He quickly wove through the rigging and bent down next to Elayna. When he saw the problem, his eyes widened.
“Give me the line,” he said urgently.
I felt so powerless. I didn’t understand what was happening, and even if I did, I would be no help.
Jonas quickly tied the line to the base of the furling drum and, rushing, threaded the line through the deck hardware and cleated it off. No sooner had he finished then the block at the base of the tack line exploded and the line holding the sail down to the deck snapped. I gasped as Elayna and Jonas both stumbled backward and struggled to regain their balance.
The force of the sail and the wind flung the furling drum out toward the sea, but it was stopped by the new line Jonas had just put on. The whole boat shuddered and careened for a moment before righting itself. The sail was still up and full, but flying off the side of the boat instead of the bow.
My eyes round, I looked back at Eivind. His eyes were wide too, his mouth open in shock. I didn’t know much about sailing, but I knew how fortunate we were that Jonas had gotten the line down in time.
Eivind ran his hands over his head and bent down. “Fuck!”
Marcella was behind him, face grim.
“Okay, back to the cockpit, everyone,” Jonas commanded. The five of us gathered around the helm. “The sail is fine for a few minutes, but we do need to get it down. Without the furler, this is going to be hard. We are going to have to drop the halyard down and pull the sail in ourselves.”
We all nodded.
“Marcella, I will have you drop the halyard down so the rest of us can pull the sail in. Okay?”
She nodded, her face white with fear.
Jonas fired up the engine and adjusted the course so the wind blew the sail back onto the boat. The sail billowed and flapped, and the four of us positioned ourselves along the lifeline. Jonas made sure we were all secure in our harnesses and clipped onto the boat before he gave Marcella the signal to start lowering the sail.
Reaching as high as he could, Jonas grabbed the sail and tugged. Eivind pulled on the sheet until he could reach the sail and he gripped it and dragged it down too.
“Elayna, switch with me and keep the part on the deck from filling with wind again,” Jonas said. Elayna crouched and tried to organize the mess of sail that piled up. Edges kept catching the wind and flapping.
Suddenly the sail stopped descending. Without the downward momentum, it filled with wind and started to blow out to sea.
It pulled our crew as we struggled against it, and Elayna slid along the deck of the boat until she slammed against the lifelines.
“Drop it down, Marcella, drop it down!” Jonas shouted.
The sail dropped again, faster this time, and we watched in horror as the top of the sail blew overboard and into the water.
“MARCELLA, PUT THE ENGINE IN NEUTRAL!” Eivind bellowed.
We dragged the sail beside us, but it, too, dragged us. We struggled with our grips on the sail, braced ourselves against whatever we could find, and it still wasn’t enough. Next to me, Eivind’s back strained, trying to not lose the sail.
I glimpsed down into the water as Eivind grunted with effort. The top half of the sail was overboard, and as we pulled, I could see the sail had scooped up water, weighing it down.
“We need to pull from the side!” I shouted.
“I can’t let go!” Eivind gritted out.
I let go of my part and quickly slid around his body. I started pulling at the sail, trying to find the side of the spinnaker so I could release the water trapped in the billows. Finally I found the red tape lining the edge of the sail and pulled, dumping the water back into the ocean and releasing the weight.
Jonas, Elayna, and Eivind heaved again and the sail started to come up, soaked and salty. Hand over hand, we pulled it the rest of the way up and fell back onto the deck, piled on top of the thin material.
We were quiet, panting and stunned into silence.
“Jesus,” Eivind whispered.
We slowly started to move, as if testing limbs and shaking them from sleep. Eivind pulled me close, tucking me into his body. His hands shook, exhausted from the strain.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded against his chest.
Footsteps came up behind me and I turned to find Marcella gripping the shroud in one hand, tears streaming down her face.
“Jonas, I’m so—” She broke off in a sob.
Jonas climbed to his feet and walked over, wrapping Marcella in his arms and cooing gently to her.
“The line . . . there was a twist. I couldn’t . . . sorry . . .”
“Hey,” Jonas said. “It is okay. We are all safe, and the boat is okay.”
Eivind chuffed a laugh underneath my cheek. “I cannot believe the sail is back on deck. It is a miracle it did not catch on the keel or the propeller.”
“That could happen?” I asked. “The sail floats though . . .”
He shook his head. “You saw how it filled with water. If we had been going too fast it would have been sucked under the boat. That would have been bad. We could have lost our engine.”
Eivind’s words weren’t making me or Marcella feel much better. Jonas hushed him softly, rocking Marcella a little bit. “We are okay, the boat is okay,” he kept repeating.
When Marcella calmed down, we started to move, gathering the sail to put it into the bag for now. Jonas didn’t want to deal with it today and the sail needed to be checked over before we could deploy it again. It would be out of commission for the rest of the passage.
With the sail put away and nothing left for me to do to help, I climbed back downstairs and sank into bed, exhausted.
When I woke up again, Eivind was not in bed with me. In fact, his side of the bed hadn’t changed at all.
I dressed, wandered out, and found him in the cockpit.
“Hey, babe,” I said. “Did you come to bed?”
“No, I let Jonas go d
own and rest. He needed it.”
“That was nice of you.” I ran my fingers over his cheek. He leaned into my touch. “Can I get you anything? Coffee?”
He smiled up at me. “Coffee would be nice.”
I moved around downstairs, making us both coffee and dicing some fruit.
Back up in the cockpit, I snuggled against Eivind while we sipped our coffee and ate our fruit. Eivind liked pineapple the best, so I picked the chunks out and fed them to him.
“I like how you take care of your brother.”
Eivind looked at me skeptically. “What do you mean? He is the older, responsible one. He has helped my mum take care of me since I was a child.”
I shook my head. “Yeah, nah. You may be younger and more laid-back, but when Jonas is stressed, when he needs you, you’re there for him.” I fed him another chunk of pineapple. “You both strained and struggled with the sail today, but you let him relax more. You gave him time off.”
“We did both work hard, but with Jonas, he has this big added responsibility. It is heavy.” Eivind looked away from me, out at sea. “I do not think he thought it would be this hard.” He chuckled darkly. “I am sure everyone says that. But also, we might be living this dream lifestyle, you know. People think, ‘Oh, you sail and visit beautiful beaches—what stress can you have?’ But it is not that.”
Eivind trailed off, deep in thought. I finished my fruit and put the bowl beside me. We stayed quiet, the firm press of our bodies comforting each other.
“Sometimes,” he confessed, “I do not think Jonas likes this very much. Maybe he would quit if it was just himself.”
I pulled my head back a little to look up at Eivind. “You should talk to him about it.”
He blinked down at me and smiled. “Maybe I will.”
Thirty-Three
Eik chugged along peacefully, the only sign of our previous trouble being that we didn’t have the spinnaker out. Instead we had to sail what was called wing on wing, where the mainsail was on one side of the boat, the genoa on the other, and the wind came in from directly behind us. It was slower and less comfortable.