by Chris Speyer
Zaki brought the hawk back across the headland. He held up his arm and made the hawk alight on it, then released it from his mind and the coil of rope dropped back into the boat.
‘I still can’t really believe you can do that,’ said Anusha.
‘I could only see Maunder.’
‘Where’s Rhiannon?’
‘In the cabin, perhaps. Let’s hope so. They’re heading down the coast.’
‘Can we catch them?’
‘Not in this.’
‘Where are they going?’
‘My guess is they’re heading for the Orme.’
‘What if we took Morveren?’
Zaki didn’t answer. He looked at Anusha and she looked steadily back at him, waiting for his reply. Take Morveren. Morveren was a bigger boat than Curlew, but heavier. She had a motor and Curlew didn’t. They might overtake her.
‘You take the launch back. I’ll take Morveren.’
‘Oh no! You said next time you raced you wanted me to crew. Well, this is a race and I’m crewing.’ She altered course, swinging the launch towards Morveren’s mooring.
‘Anusha, it’s looking rough out there.’
‘What are trying to say? You think because I’m a girl I’m going to get in the way?’
‘No, it’s just . . . Hey! Not so fast!’
The launch was pointed straight at Morveren and in another minute would hit her at full speed. Zaki leapt for the controls, swung the engine into reverse to take off speed and pushed the tiller over. He held his breath. The launch slowed and came to rest alongside the yacht.
‘You could have told me to do that!’
‘Yeah – right,’ said Zaki and remembered he needed to breathe.
Anusha scrambled out of the launch and stood looking down from the yacht’s deck.
‘Just tell me what I need to do.’
‘You can start by getting the sail-cover off the main.’
Anusha set to work while Zaki made the launch fast to Morveren’s mooring then he too climbed aboard. There was a set of keys to the yacht on Grandad’s bunch of boat keys. While he opened up the cabin, Zaki kept thinking, This is not a good idea, this is not a good idea. He thought about what his father would say, what his Grandad would say. Anusha didn’t know anything about the sea. He should tell her that they weren’t going; that they couldn’t do it. But what about Michael? What would happen to Michael if they did nothing? It’s my fault, thought Zaki. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t gone into the cave – if I hadn’t picked up the bracelet . . .
‘What now?’ Anusha’s shout brought him back to the job at hand.
‘We’ll put the sails up when we’re under way. Better put some oilies on.’ He dived into the cabin and returned with two sets of wet-weather gear. Once they were dressed, Zaki started the engine and sent Anusha forward to cast off.
‘Can you take her, please,’ he asked as Anusha returned. ‘I want to get a forecast.’ He pointed out the port and starboard channel marks off Black Rock and the Wolf Rock buoy then handed over the helm and went below to the radio. They’d missed the Brixham coastguard’s forecast, so he selected channel 12 and called the harbour office. They shouldn’t be too busy at this time of year, he reasoned, and anyway, everyone knew Morveren.
‘Salcombe Harbour, Salcombe Harbour, Salcombe Harbour, this is Morveren, Morveren, Morveren – over.’
‘Morveren – Salcombe Harbour. Over.’
‘Can I have a forecast? Over.’
He got a pad and pen ready and jotted down the details as they were read out.
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Wind south veering south-west 5 to 6,
increasing 7 to gale 8 later.
Weather fair – rain later.
Visibility good.
Sea moderate to rough.
‘Over.’
‘Thank you, Salcombe Harbour, out.’
He retuned the radio to listen out on channel 16 and went up on deck. As Morveren came out from behind the shelter of Black Rock, she lifted her bow to the first of the swells. They needed to get the mainsail up before they reached the rough water over the bar, and they’d need to sail fast to have any hope of catching Curlew. Having hoisted the mainsail, he took over the helm. They were heading dead into the wind. They’d be better off motoring until they rounded the point and turned west.
‘Better clip on. If you go over the side, you’ll stay attached to the boat.’ Zaki clipped his own lifeline on and showed Anusha how to attach hers. He studied her face to see how she was coping with the sudden violent pitching of the boat as they entered the steep chop over the bar.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fine,’ Anusha replied, a little too earnestly.
When they were clear of the Little Mew Stone, Zaki eased the mainsail and turned away from the wind. Morveren heeled and picked up speed as the sail filled. Now they were no longer butting straight into the swell and they had the wind in the sail to steady them, the motion of the boat was much more comfortable. He knew the passage to the Orme off by heart and set a course that would take them straight across Bigbury Bay. ‘Time to set the foresail,’ Zaki said. ‘You let this line out while I winch in the sheet. OK! Slowly now!’
Morveren pushed up a foaming white wave and powered through the swell. Zaki cut the motor – they’d go just as fast without it – and for a moment he allowed himself to enjoy the familiar thrill of boat, wind and water.
But this was no pleasure trip. Zaki scanned the sea ahead for Curlew. The waves were capped with white horses – she’d be hard to spot and she’d had a good head start. Would she still be in sight?
‘There!’ shouted Anusha.
Zaki looked to where she was pointing. At first, he could only see the white crests of waves and then he saw the unmistakable shape of a sail on the far side of the bay.
‘There’s a pair of binoculars in the chart table. Could you fetch them up please?’
‘It’s her all right,’ Anusha said, once she’d got the binoculars focused. ‘But what’s she doing?’
‘Let me see.’
Anusha passed the binoculars to Zaki.
‘Could you take the helm?’
‘What do I do?’
‘Just follow Curlew, but stay up wind of her.’
‘I wish you’d speak English!’
‘I mean that way. A bit out to sea.’
Zaki trained the binoculars on the distant sail. ‘She’s hove-to.’
‘And what does that mean?!’
‘It means she’s not going anywhere. It’s a way of stopping when you’re under sail.’
‘Why would Maunder do that? Does he know we’re following him?’
‘No – I don’t think so.’ Zaki tried to keep the binoculars steady but it wasn’t easy with Morveren pounding along at full tilt. He lost Curlew and found her again. ‘The wind’s too strong for him. He’s reefing.’
‘He’s what?’
‘Making the sails smaller. We should catch up a bit,’ Zaki said, as he and Anusha changed places again.
‘What are we going to do if we do catch them up?’
Zaki had been wondering the same thing. He didn’t have a plan. He just hoped he could do something – anything, to help Michael fight against Maunder. Drive him out like he had driven him out. There had to be a way.
‘I don’t know.’
‘We’ll think of something.’
‘Yeah – we have to catch them first.’
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As the morning wore on, the wind gradually but relentlessly veered from south to south-west and grew in strength until Morveren, leaning at a crazy angle, was driving through the mounting seas. As the wind veered, it freshened. Now streaks of white spray were being blown off the tops of the waves.
The fresher conditions favoured Morveren, as she was the bigger boat. They were definitely gaining on Curlew now, but Zaki knew that if the wind got any stronger they wouldn’t be able to control Morveren. They had to reduce sail. He was reluctant to thro
w away the ground they had made up but the darkening cloud-bank he could see building to the west told him that worse weather was on the way.
‘I’m going to reef the mainsail.’ Zaki had to shout to make himself heard over the roar of the wind. Do you think you can manage the helm?’
‘I think so. But you’d better tell me what to point at.’
‘You see that far headland? Keep that to starboard.’
‘That’s the right, isn’t it.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll do my best.’
With Anusha on the helm, Zaki got to work. Just as he was returning from the side deck, the boat slid down the back of a wave, dug her nose into the next one and sent a torrent of green water flying across her deck, most of which seemed to go down Zaki’s neck.
‘Oi!’
‘Sorry!’
He rejoined Anusha in the comparative shelter of the cockpit.
‘Didn’t mean to soak you,’ Anusha said.
‘Try to take the waves at more of an angle – you’ll keep us drier.’
‘I’ll try. How much further?’
‘Can you see Curlew?’
‘Yes.’
‘Follow the shoreline along to her left. Do you see that tall rock?’
‘Got it.’
‘That’s Devil’s Rock. The entrance is beside the rock.’
‘So they’re almost there?’
‘Yeah – but I can’t believe he’s going to take her in this weather. It’s madness. They don’t even have an engine!’
‘Looks like he’s going to try.’
‘What could be so important?’
‘The treasure? What if he’s made Rhiannon tell him what she did with it?’
‘My God!’
‘What?’
‘He’s not going to try to get into the bay. He’s aiming for the rock! Half tide – the sand bar will still be uncovered – he’s going to beach her at the foot of the rock. He’s a wrecker – he doesn’t care what happens to the boat.’
‘What about Rhiannon? Will he leave her on board?
‘If she is on board.’
They watched as the distance between Curlew and Devil’s Rock gradually diminished.
Anusha suddenly gave a shout, ‘That’s it! Don’t you see? It’s part of his plan.’
‘What is?’
‘The boat’s wrecked – Rhiannon’s body’s onboard – it looks like an accident. Nobody looks any further. And the only one he thinks knows about the treasure is out of the way.’
The grim logic was convincing, but Rhiannon would not be the only victim. If Maunder escaped, Michael was lost.
The two boats were now no more than a quarter of a mile apart but there was no way Morveren would catch Curlew before she began her suicidal run through the gap in the outer reef.
Zaki knew what he must do, and he knew he should have done it long ago.
‘Keep her on this heading. I’m going to put out a mayday.’
He dropped down into the cabin, took a deep breath, picked up the microphone and began the message that every sailor practises but hopes he will never need to send:
‘Mayday – Mayday – Mayday. This is yacht Morveren – yacht Morveren – yacht Morveren – Mayday . . .’
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Chapter 22
Zaki put out the distress call three times, giving their position and situation. He paused between each call, as he had been taught to do, and listened for a response. None came. This area had always been bad for reception. He was beginning the fourth call when Morveren was knocked down. The cabin turned on its side and Zaki found himself, together with every other moveable object, flying through the air. He landed heavily, still clutching the microphone, its lead, torn from the radio, dangling from his hand. He threw the now useless microphone aside and scrambled across to the companionway as Morveren shook herself, like a punch-drunk fighter, and struggled upright.
Emerging on deck, he saw the helm was deserted. Where was Anusha? With relief, he saw her lying against the guardrail.
‘You all right?’
‘Think so.’
‘What happened?’
‘Big wave. I couldn’t hold her.’
Zaki helped Anusha back into the cockpit. The foresail had been ripped in two by the weight of wind and water. Zaki freed the sheet and let the sail fly. The freed ropes whipped back and forward across the deck like wounded snakes. He started the engine and got the boat head-to-wind.
‘We need to get that sail in.’
It took both of them on the furling line and all their strength, but with the sail furled and the engine running, Morveren was under control and they could pay attention to other things. The clouds to the west had darkened from grey to near black. A vivid orange streak of dying sunlight ran along the horizon as though the edge of the sky had cracked, allowing a glimpse of heaven beyond, its eerie yellow light catching the streaming crests of the breaking waves.
‘Look!’
Zaki turned. Curlew, all sails set, was riding a wave through the opening in the reef. The black mass of Devil’s Rock towered above the little boat and it seemed certain that she would be dashed to pieces at the Devil’s feet. At the last possible moment, Curlew broached, the wave ran from under her, and she slewed sideways up the bank of the half-exposed sandbar beside the great rock. As the wave retreated, a figure leapt from the boat and ran to gain the safety of the rocks before the next wave could overwhelm him.
Now, as they watched, wave after wave pounded the stranded boat. With the rising tide, each successive wave reached higher up the bar.
Zaki brought Morveren as close to the outer reef as he dared.
‘Pass me the binoculars.’
What he saw made him sick to his core. The hatches were lashed shut. Wordlessly, he passed the binoculars to Anusha.
As she lowered the glasses, she looked in desperation at Zaki. ‘What do we do? We’ve got to get her out.’
It was impossible. To follow Curlew would be to suffer the same fate, or worse. Zaki watched, helplessly, as the swells surged through the reef and burst against the glistening side of Devil’s Rock.
As he watched, he noticed that in every new set of waves there were one or two that, driven by the south-westerly wind, ran in at an angle. Instead of crashing against the rock, they were deflected and ran along the sandbar. He looked at Anusha. It would be terribly risky.
Before he could say anything, she said, ‘If you think we can do it, we have to do it.’
Zaki found he was shaking. He was very cold, they hadn’t eaten all day and he was frightened.
‘What do we do?’ Anusha bit her lower lip.
Zaki tried to stop the shaking. ‘Watch the waves . . . There! You see? Watch this one. It doesn’t run straight in. We have to catch one of those. But if we get it wrong . . .’
‘I know. You don’t have to explain.’
Zaki turned Morveren away from the reef and began a circle that would take them to the point just west of the opening, where he reckoned they should begin their run in. They needed to be moving at speed when they caught the wave. If they slid off it, the next one would catch them from the side. Every time Morveren climbed to the crest of a wave, Zaki studied the waves in the distance, trying to see which were running at an angle. As he completed the circle, Zaki slipped the engine into neutral and let the mainsail out as far as it would go. With just the reefed sail to drive them they were moving forward – but not quite as fast as the waves. The white crests of the waves behind them seemed to advance in regimented rows.
‘When I shout, give her full throttle, then hang on tight.’
Anusha nodded and moved to be by the engine controls.
In the distance a wave reared above the others as though lifting itself up so Zaki could see it. It was skewed out of line and bearing down on them at great speed.
‘Now!’ Zaki screamed.
Anusha gunned the engine and Zaki heaved hard on the mainsail, filling it with wind. Morveren qu
ickly gathered pace, each passing wave adding to her speed until the chosen wave was beneath them and they were careering on its hissing crest towards the reef.
Where was the gap? With so much spray and surf and the angle of their approach it was hard to see the break in the rocks. There! Yes, there! Zaki willed Morveren to stay on course. His hands stopped shaking. He, the boat, the gap in the reef – that was all that existed.
They were through!
‘Keep down!’ Zaki shouted as he heaved the helm over and the boom flew wildly across the deck. He hauled the sail in so that it would force Morveren’s stern round and keep them from being driven on to the bar. To starboard, angry waves threw themselves at The Orphans, tearing themselves apart in their desperation to break through and devour the yacht.
He looked up at the cliffs ahead. There was the cottage – Rhiannon’s cottage. The last time he had seen it, it was just a landmark, just an abandoned ruin.
‘When we’re round the sandbar, I’d like you to take her. I’ll get the sail down.’
‘How are we going to get to Curlew?’
‘The dinghy. Look – you see? That side of the bar – it’s sheltered. We can land there, but it’s too shallow for Morveren.’
When the sail was down, Zaki unlashed the dinghy while Anusha steered them into Dragon Pool. He had been so preoccupied with getting them this far in safety, that he hadn’t spared a thought for Maunder – not Michael – he couldn’t think of him as Michael. Now, he searched the rock for movement. Daylight was fading, and the rock was silhouetted against the grey sky. A small figure was climbing towards the summit.
‘He’s almost there,’ Anusha said, as she too looked up.
They anchored close to the entrance of the pool, launched the dinghy and rowed back as fast as they could. As soon as they rounded the small headland that divided Dragon Pool from the outer bay the wind struck them. The air was full of salt spray from the waves that pounded on the other side of the sandbar and the roar of wind and waves made speech almost impossible. Their progress slowed to a crawl and their arms ached from the strain of battling against the wind. Eventually, the dinghy’s bow grated on sand and they jumped out to pull the boat clear of the water. The biggest breakers were now sweeping right across the bar and threatening to wash the dinghy back into the bay.