by DB Daglish
“What about trying for Lord Howe?” Dirk suggested. He knew the answer but was looking for some solution to letting his family know what had happened.
“Oh mate, I can understand why you’d want to,” Willo replied. “But to be honest, they’ve probably long since given up on you and we can’t risk infecting them.”
“Yeah, I know. But can we stay downwind of them like we did over there,” and he pointed across the straight. “Can we at least try?” he pleaded.
Willo looked toward Chris, Chris looked at Bryce and Bryce looked out to sea.
“If we did,” he finally said, “Is the emotion worth it? See how hard it was back there. Crikey, no one even wants to go back to Tazi anymore! What do you think Tia?”
“I agree that they have probably given you guys up for dead and I also agree there is no harm if we can stay downwind of a meeting. But…oh I don’t know. It’s your home Dirk. What do you want us to do? It’s not like we have to be anywhere. Sydney is only our home when we finally get there and decide to stay. Till then we could sail these oceans for years if we wanted to!”
Tia’s last statement was one they had never considered before. It was true, that technically, they could just live as explorers the rest of their lives if they wished. There was no need to stay and build a community; they could live on the ocean and visit the islands until they found their own paradise elsewhere.
Dirk and Rosa were now a little confused, and they asked if they could decide mid-voyage. Tia therefore plotted a course for Lord Howe and they left that afternoon; never to return to her original homeland.
Chapter 17
Even with the winds behind them they were in no rush and it took five days to reach the Chatham Islands. But by that time, those on the Southern Spirit were very weak; now they were all in the late stages of the disease. Most had planned to continue into the southern ocean but the lesions and lumps were beginning to become painful, most were urinating blood to some extent and everything that came from their body stunk. They stumbled off the yacht at the Waitangi wharf and refused to go back aboard.
These five souls isolated themselves to some houses nearby to be joined by Ryan and Karen the following day. Their chest pains were severe, and they constantly sweated adding to the discomfort. They did their best to keep the others comfortable until they too were unable to move and they also lay down to die. Five pain-wracked days later, Lenny was the first, but by his own design.
Before leaving the main islands of New Zealand, both Ricki and Faith had been clear of any spots. The partial isolation on board the schooner seemed to have helped because at this stage they still appeared clear. During these final days Ricki and Faith had remained upon the boat or walked around the bay and hills to fill in time. The fifth day they watched in horror as Lenny stumbled out of one of the houses, crossed the road, the grass verge and the sand to finally enter the sea. Slowly he walked until the water was near his head and then he began to swim. But the weakness was too much and within a few seconds he disappeared under the surface.
“I have to go and try and help them,” Faith said in a distressed tone.
“You can’t. They are beyond help!”
“Yes I know, but to help them…ease their pain…not let them die alone…” and she burst into tears. Ricki held her briefly and abruptly let her go.
“I need to check again,” he said beginning to take his clothes off. “Come on…one last time!”
Naked they checked each other carefully, each holding something over their faces just in case the disease was spread by breath. For they really had no idea what is was, nor how it spread.
“Well, am I clear?” Ricki asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, that means the two of us have survived. Now, that being the case, do you want to die by entering that house, or stay alive with me?”
There was a brief period of silence.
“Stay alive!” she said.
That night they slept fitfully on the schooner thinking of the horror their friends were facing. Faith imagined seeing fireflies by the window in her half slumber until she smelled something that jolted her from her sleep.
“Ricki!” she screamed as she peered out of the porthole windows. As he woke he was greeted by the sight of a house fully engulfed in flames over at the village. It was the house their friends were lying in. Faith was horrified but Ricki understood.
“You don’t seem…it’s as if you knew of this?” Faith asked.
“No I didn’t, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Harry suggested this as a quick way to end it.”
“Why would they?”
“If you had the choice of a painful death lingering for another two days or a quick one lasting two minutes, what would you choose?”
But she didn’t answer and went below to mourn for them. Ricki stayed on deck in the cool breeze, remembering his first meeting with Karen on the shores of New Haven all those long years ago. This was the first time he had cried openly and Faith, hearing it, decided to leave him to his own way of dealing with it all. She had previously seen Ricki as someone staunch, unmovable, and in control. There was no way she would be able to console him, knowing his loved one was one of those buried under the still smoldering ashes of the old house.
He was still thinking and turning the pocket knife of Errol’s over and over in his hands at daybreak. Small wisps of smoke from the fire still rose in the cool of the morning. With one final glance at what remained of the house, they cast off from the wharf and pointed west, aiming to be at the straight within a few days. If things went well, they could pass through, and be in Sydney in ten to twelve if the winds were favorable. At least they would see the others, if in fact they remained free of this cursed thing themselves.
* * *
Tia’s skill showed through again as the triangular pyramid of rock appeared some fifteen nautical miles north of their position. Up until this time, neither Dirk nor Rosa had given any indication of a final decision. But as the black rock began to loom ever higher on the horizon in front of them, he moved to the pulpit at the front of the boat and stood there for some time before whistling and pointing to his left.
Immediately Tia tacked to port and they bore away toward the coast of Australia. The ketch followed her lead.
Dirk looked toward Rosa. “You said I could choose. Are you ok with that?”
She nodded, looking longingly toward the faint outline of Mount Gower in the distance.
“Not ok – but resigned to it,” she said.
“Well,” Dirk said as he looked at Bryce, “I’m not ready for Sydney yet and we can’t go to Brisbane can we?”
Bryce shook his head. They had no way of knowing if it was safe for either.
“What about the reef? Can we go to the barrier reef again or one of the islands and relax a little?”
Bryce motioned the ketch closer as Tia slowed the yacht down a little. As they drew near he called out.
“I guess you’ve discovered their decision, but Dirk has asked if we can go to the barrier reef where we were previously. Maybe even one of the islands and have some fun to get over all the recent stress.”
Chris shrugged. “Ok, it’s his choice. We’re all good with it I suppose,” he asked looking around to approving nods. “Yep - let’s do it,” and they bore away to get some clear air and hoist the larger sails.
“So this is another race?” Tia asked those around her. With a huge smile she barked some quick orders, “Right, everyone to the stern, let’s get this boat flying. Here Dirk,” she had him take the wheel, “You know what to do. I’ll shut up and you take us on. Just keep it at northwest on the dial and stay on that till we can see the coast, Ok?”
Dirk nodded enthusiastically. He was keen for something to distract his thoughts and he has Rosa come beside him, having her hold the helm from time to time.
They arrived at the southern tip of the reef in perfect conditions but realized there was nowhere to relax other than on deck, so headed toward
one of the old holiday islands. Taking the dinghy’s ashore allowed them time to relax on white sand beaches, use the old plastic sit-in kayaks that were still in good condition. Even finding some salvageable snorkeling gear. The water stores were on the yachts were now quite low. Willo therefore arranged fires on the beach where the old tank water from the resort, long since contaminated with insects, was boiled in the large pots from the kitchen. The water was then transported to the yachts tanks as well as into some old plastic containers that were washed thoroughly before hand.
Most wandered naked around the beaches, feeling uninhibited in this location. It seemed that Chris and the young Tyler were the only ones without partners. At the beach fire on the third evening, that topic came up again. There was a sense of awe that so few had lost those they were closest to.
“True, true,” Willo agreed in his unusual fashion. “But if you think about it, it had more to do with which boat you were on, and who you mixed with. With so many being aboard the same vessels as their partners, they either lived or died together!”
At that, everything became clearer. It was all down to fate. There was no planned selection, or lucky choice. It was entirely dependent upon which couples were on which boat and with whom.
“Had Lenny been on the Taranaki for example, myself and these four might be dead now,” he said pointing to Geo, Sam, Nick and Mik. “It is not about the wonder that couples survived – we know now that some were always going to - but the choice of yacht!”
It was true that fate, choice and destiny were things that many regarded as altogether linked. Yet some believed everything happened for a reason and others that choices were random. And in the middle of this conversation, a young boy’s voice was heard.
“Lemonade!”
“What’s that Tyler?” Maddy asked.
“Lemonade!”
“I’m not following what you mean sweetie?” Maddy asked as she shook her head.
“My mum used to say that if things were bad you just decide to make lemonade!”
“Do you know what lemonade is Tyler?”
He shook his head.
“You know what a lemon is though?”
This time he nodded.
“Well, in the old days, we would use lemons to make a drink!”
“Yuck,” he said. Obviously he had tasted them and others laughed at his reaction. They were fascinated at this little conversation between these two, especially with the fact that Tyler did not know what lemonade was.
“But we added sugar to it to make it sweet. But you’ve probably never had sugar have you Tyler?”
He shook his head again.
“Well. Your mum would have meant that when life brings you lemons; and you know how they taste…You squeeze them to get the juice out and then add sugar to make a nice drink. So what she was saying is you take something bad and turn it into something good. So Tyler, you actually understood what she meant without knowing what it was…if that makes sense.”
Tyler nodded but the others laughed because now Maddy had a weird look on her face as if she had said it wrong.
“Vita fresh?” Gloria asked of Tyler. “Do you know what Vita fresh is?”
He shook his head.
“Hang on,” she said grabbing a windup torch and disappearing into the buildings behind the beach.
“Shortly a scream was heard and some clattering of things dropped on the floor. Willo quickly sprinted into the darkness and returned with Gloria. Both were giggling.
“What was that about?” asked Bryce.
“I went to find this, as I’d seen some old packets in a container yesterday and a damn gecko jumped on me. Well, I hope it was a gecko and not a spider,” she said shuddering a little. She now held up two packets of powdered concentrate. They would have been nearly thirty years old and the mixture was now hardened. She split the packet open and poured it into another pot of warm water and allowed it to soften and melt. Once done she took some and added to a container of cooler water until the taste was right and handed it to Tyler.
“You know what a lemon is right?”
He nodded.
“Well, this is lemonade,” and she allowed him to drink as much of it as he wished before he handed it to others so as to share. For this boy had a kind nature and he was comfortable with them all. This was now his family and in time, the memories of his old one would grow dim until they would fade completely.
They talked long into the night around the fire, some falling asleep on the sand. Samantha looked at Tia who had an odd expression on her face.
“What’s the matter?”
“Oh, it’s like…it was a strange feeling that came over me. Almost as if someone was watching me or something!”
“Did someone walk over your grave Tia?”
“No Bryce, it was not a bad feeling…just a strange one, as if I was being called.”
“Called by who?” Geo asked.
“It’s by whom,” she said to correct him, “and I do not know. All that fills my mind are the words ‘follow the sun.’”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It’s the sort of thing Ricki does so maybe he’s calling for me?”
“Ricki? Is he even alive?” Chris asked.
“Well, he didn’t have it before you got dropped off, did he Gloria?”
“No Tia. Both he and Faith showed no signs at that point!” she replied.
“Then maybe he is calling me?” she repeated.
“Tia,” Maddy called, catching her attention. “If Ricki can do what you say, maybe he can hear you too. What was it you said came to your mind?”
“Follow the sun!” she replied.
“Then tell him that!” Maddy insisted. “Have some faith in yourself, and if not yourself, have some faith in him!”
Then Tia did an odd thing. She stood up, looking south.
“Ricki…follow the sun!” she yelled into the night sky.
All fell quiet. The silence that followed Tia’s cry held a spiritual quality to it and they all willed the passage of the words to the south. Feeling a little embarrassed, Tia sat down again, saying nothing more until daybreak.
* * *
While the others were on their tropical paradise, the schooner was making its way from the Chatham’s through the straight close to New Haven. Ricki and Faith had, at first, arrived many miles north of their target due to losing the maps that were once on board. As a result they were off course and now sailed south until they could recognize where they were.
“Heck, I was so far off in that short distance I hope I don’t miss Oz altogether!” he said a little worried for his lack of navigation skills.
The moon was bright and they decided to push through the straight without stopping although Ricki felt tempted to call into New Haven again but there was no point. Once past the islands he headed south, deciding instead to seek out some nautical maps at one of the local ports, if he indeed could find a place that held them. A whole day was spent in a fruitless search within marine shops. In the end he realized that all he needed was an atlas showing coastal features of Australia and the heading once they passed Farewell Spit, the most northeasterly corner of the southern island of New Zealand.
“Ok, more west than northwest, and that’s the best I can do. I wish Tia as here,” Ricki muttered to himself.
“You going to be ok?” Faith asked.
“This ocean is notorious and although we’ve done it twice, I hope this third crossing is as gentle as the second.”
“Just think…” she said, “with the world as it is now, and yet within six months you’re about to make a third journey across the Tasman Sea!”
He laughed at that. In all his time in the old world, he’d never even left the country once. When Ricki had all he needed to do set firmly in his mind, they made their way to the yacht moored on a pontoon by the old cement tower, atlas in hand. A few dogs appeared, but seemed more scared of them than they were of the dogs.
“Damn, I have no weapon,” he said ruefully. Picking up some stones he flung them at the dogs and one at a large window which shattered; the noise causing them to scatter briefly. Reaching the wharf, they leaped aboard. Faith noticed the dogs had followed them and were now standing on the wharf above the ramp to the pontoon. She took the pistol from the holster and pulled back the breech to load it. The sound caused Ricki to turn and look at Faith and then where her gaze was set.
“Shoot them,” he said gruffly.
“No. They haven’t attacked and are not even growling. Maybe they just want fed?”
“Well, not from my hands,” he said as he immediately cast off. Taking the pistol from her hands he pointed it at the wharf above.
“No – don’t kill them,” she pleaded!
“I’m not,” he said, letting off two rounds into some steel drums. The sound startled Faith and the dogs; which scampered off in fright.
“Get some pleasure from that?” she asked.
“Yeah – some!” and he grinned as he looked at her. “Hey,” he said noticing her disapproving look. “Better they learn to fear human’s aye…and we didn’t hurt them ok?”
“We? What did I have to do with it?” she demanded.
“Who pulled the pistol out?”
“So how long will it take to get across the sea then?” she said to distract the direction of the discussion.
“Hey, that’s a deliberate diversion?” he accused as he grinned.
“It’s what we woman are good at. Now shut up and get us out of here!”
Crossing the Tasman Sea was expected to take ten days with fairly calm seas. The sky looked good as they departed west and they were full of hope for an uneventful crossing. During the first night the wind was on the bow so they sailed into a rising wind and increasing seas which did not drop as hoped, but increased slightly before nightfall the following day. However, three days into the voyage, a change occurred that caused some very strong south east winds to blow; whipping up the already high swells. Most of the time they stayed inside the wheel house, not really sure what to do with waves coming over the stern quarter. The storm continued for a further three days with the highest wind noted on the instruments at forty five knots. A few times they were sick in the cabin sink and they were beginning to fear an unfortunate outcome now that the rear sail had shredded somewhat. Ricki clambered outside in the cold rain and lowered the mainsail a little and went inside again, hoping they could ride this storm out. It was a miserable night as the ketch pitched and rolled wildly.