CHAPTER 9
There had been a weather advisory warning of a strong secondary front approaching that night behind the weak one that had swept across the lake in the afternoon. It struck shortly after midnight, kicking up a line of squalls and monstrous swells that set the Lady P to pitching violently, the bow slamming down after each crest with great thuds and smacks.
Poe rolled out of his bunk. He’d thrown up twice during the night and feared he’d do so again before he could reach the sink of his little bathroom. Fighting it, he pushed himself back against the side of the bunk, waiting until he felt confident enough of his stomach to move further.
The nausea passed, but with all the pitching and rolling, the best he could manage was a crouch when he got to his feet. Gripping handholds, he made his way into the main cabin, where three crew members, oblivious to the tumult, were sleeping peacefully. Poe lurched to the ladder and hauled himself up to the hatch. The doors had been closed against the storm. Opening one, he poked out his head, only to be drenched by a wave coming over the cabin.
Matthias was at the wheel, shouting commands to the crew members on deck. The girl named Cindy was stuffing sail into a huge bag. One of the young men was pulling frantically on a rope. They were all wearing life jackets over their foul weather gear.
More wave water sloshed down the back of Poe’s neck.
Curland noticed him, but quickly returned his attention to his tasks.
“What’s going on?” Poe shouted.
“We’ve got a storm on our hands! Better stay below!”
“We gonna make it?”
“I’ve switched to storm sails and reefed the main by half! We’ll weather it! Don’t worry! Get below!”
“Are we on course?”
“I’m a bit busy, Mr. Poe. Please, go back. I’ll join you in a minute.”
Poe wiped the water from his eyes. Feeling vulnerable, he dropped back into the cabin to strap on a life jacket himself, then hesitated. He didn’t know if it would help or hurt his seasickness, but this certainly seemed time for another stiff drink. He managed to get a bottle of Cutty Sark out of the storage cabinet without breaking it. He tried pouring some into a plastic cup, but it spilled, so he drank straight from the bottle. He took two good slugs, then, steeling himself, started topside again. It wouldn’t do to have one of the crew leak it to the papers that the mighty Peter Poe had ridden out a storm huddled in his cabin. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be down there anyway, in case they capsized.
Before Poe could ascend the little ladder, Matthias suddenly came clambering down, easing past Poe and moving in remarkably graceful lunges to the little chart table. Hunching over it, he turned on a tiny lamp and pulled out a rolled-up plastic map.
“Are we lost?” Poe asked.
Curland ignored him. After returning the map to its place, he went back to the ladder and heaved himself back up to the hatch.
“Fall off more to starboard and ease the main!” he shouted to someone at the helm. “I want a heading of twenty degrees.”
After snapping shut the doors, he slid back down and lowered himself onto a small stool mounted to the floorboards.
“You want a drink?” Poe asked.
Matthias gave him a not very indulgent look.
“Sorry,” Poe said. “You’re on duty. What’s the situation?”
“The storm’s a lot stronger than forecast,” Matthias said, catching his breath. “I’m clocking winds of thirty-five knots, from the northwest.”
“I thought the wind was out of the north.”
“Lake Michigan, Mr. Poe. Things change, fast. We’re holding our own, but I’m a little worried about the smaller class of boats. I’d hate to see this turn into another Fastnet Rock.”
“What the hell’s that?”
“They hold a race every year off the coast of England, to a little island called Fastnet Rock. There was a terrible storm back in the 1970s that hit them midway across. I think it wrecked a dozen boats. A lot of people drowned. Ted Turner ended up winning it. He lashed himself to his boat and clung to the helm. According to his crew, he hung on there all the way, shouting curses at the wind.”
“Turner did that?”
“He got mixed reviews as a skipper, but no one ever doubted his courage.”
“Are we still in the lead?”
“Before the storm blew up, the commodore’s boat was about fifty yards astern and another fifty or so to port. The others I could see were well behind.”
“How did he make up so much ground?”
Matthias smiled. “He’s got people in his crew who competed in the Olympics.”
“They’re that much better than ours?”
“They’re pretty damn good. He’s also got a better boat.”
“Shit. I could kill that Yeats.”
“The Lady P is a fine sailboat. It’s just that we’ve all had to tack back and forth all night and the commodore and his crew are hard to beat at that. If the wind changes again after this front passes—and I think it will soon—we can go back to steady sailing and back to skippering. The commodore’s smart and very experienced, but not what you’d call devilishly clever. Much too conservative to take a lot of gambles.”
“Hey,” Poe said. “Who’s sailing the boat?”
“Cindy’s at the helm. Don’t worry. She’s our best crew member. Almost as good as Jill. They were friends, you know.”
Poe frowned. “Maybe you should get back up there.”
“I intend to, as soon as I use the head. You might as well get back in your bunk.”
Poe shook his head, then lifted his bottle, taking a long pull.
“You sure you don’t want a drop?” he asked.
“No, thank you.”
Poe returned the bottle to the cabinet, then moved to the ladder.
“Where are you going?” Matthias asked.
“Topside. I want to see all this.”
“It’s dangerous, you know.”
Poe grinned. “I’ll tie myself to something, like Ted Turner.”
By dawn, the storm had blown itself out, leaving the sky crystalline clear, the distant Wisconsin shoreline sharply etched in the pale light, though it appeared to be miles away. The wind was no longer so ferocious, but still strong, and the Lady P was moving very fast, leaving a churned-up wake.
Poe was cold and stiff. When he turned his head to look back at the other boats in the race, it hurt his neck.
The commodore’s craft must have run into some kind of trouble because, though still in second place, it had fallen far back. It was lying a good mile to the west of them as well. Squinting toward the south, Poe could make out five or six other sails.
“I hope nobody went down,” he said. It sounded like the thing to say.
“I think everyone’s all right,” Matthias said. Cindy was sitting at his side, asleep despite the cold, her head on his shoulder. “We didn’t pick up any distress calls. They’re probably strung out back there all along the coast. Some of them might have hove to, to ride out the blow.”
“How come the commodore’s lagging back there?”
“He probably broke a halyard or a sheet, or maybe lost a sail. Don’t worry. He’ll be sticking with us. He’s changed sails. Got his big main up again.”
“What about us?” Poe looked at the straining canvas above him.
“I’ll change sail in a few minutes. I want to wait a little longer on the wind. We’ve been making excellent time in all this, but the wind’s dropping and shifting around to the southwest. If it keeps moving around behind us, I may put up the spinnaker.”
“You mean that big balloon sail?”
“It’s very pretty.”
“You’re sure the wind’s not too strong? How soon before we reach Green Bay?”
“Late tomorrow. Relax, Mr. Poe.”
They kept their lead throughout the long day, but the commodore’s boat kept creeping up. At sunset, it was abreast of them, slowly but steadily pulling ahead.
/> “We’re losing,” Poe said.
“For the moment,” Matthias said. He was sitting up on the transom, holding the wheel fast with his foot. “I don’t know what else to do. We’re on a run—the wind behind us. I’ve got up every inch of sail I can lay hands on. The spinnaker’s set perfectly. That fact is, the gentleman has the best boat on the lake.”
“If this were a car race, we could bump him off to the side.”
“We’d have to catch him first. And it wouldn’t be considered very sporting. You’d hear about it. Probably get yourself disqualified. If you won, they’d take back your trophy.”
Poe stared down at the deck of the cockpit. His seasickness had vanished, and now he was hungry.
“You going to give that girl the watch again tonight?” he said finally.
“As I said, Cindy’s the best we have.”
“You like her?”
“Very much.”
“She sure likes you.”
“Mr. Poe, she’s the daughter of an old friend of mine.”
“I wish Diandra could see us. I don’t think she believed I’d go through with this.”
“I’m sure she has every confidence in you. I do. You handled yourself very well last night.”
“The Cutty helped.”
“I’d ease up on that. Clouds your judgment, Mr. Poe.”
“It’s your judgment that counts here. And it’s Peter, damn it. Come on. Knock off the Mr. Poe.”
Matthias looked off toward the setting sun and then sent a deckhand scurrying to put on the running lights. The commodore already had his on.
“You like Diandra, Matt?” Poe asked.
“You have a lovely wife.”
“I’m serious about you doing her picture.”
“I’d be happy to do her portrait, but my brother’s much better.”
“I want you, and I want a nude.”
“I’m not sure that would be appropriate.”
“She’s a model. She’s done nude shots with photographers. For body lotion ads.”
“Mr. Poe. Peter. Sally and I are going to be married.”
“Yeah? It’s true?”
“We haven’t set a date, but it’s true.”
The red light of a distant buoy was winking at them from near the shore.
“Depends on your financial situation, right?” Poe said.
“In part. But I don’t think we’re going to change our minds. It just a matter of the timing.”
“You really want to do my building, don’t you?”
“It’s a fantastic opportunity. And it would be very good for the city, to have such a project in that neighborhood.”
“I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“So I gather.”
Poe raised himself stiffly to get a better look at the commodore’s boat. “He’s probably laughing his ass off about us.”
“I’m sure he’s quite pleased with himself. He’s won this race three years in a row—ever since he got that boat.”
“And there’s nothing we can do to slow him down?”
You paid a price for everything you took from life. Matthias had learned that much. But you never knew when the bill would come due, or how much it would be.
Matthias had just been presented with a big one. If he didn’t pay it—if he didn’t do now what he knew it would take for Poe to win this race—there would be no building, not for him. All of his newfound hopes and plans would slide irretrievably behind him, like the wake from this boat.
“Actually, there is something,” Matthias said with a frown. “It’s not illegal, but it’s not the sort of thing I like to do.”
“I’m down on the books as the skipper. What do you care?”
“I have a reputation, Peter. I have a lot of friends in this race.”
“They didn’t do you much good when you were living on that beach in France.”
“I didn’t ask them to.”
“What’s the deal? What do you have in mind?”
Matthias sighed. “He’ll keep pulling ahead. When he’s clear of our bow, we could slide in behind him and steal his wind. He’d have to fall off to get away from us, and we’d get the lead back. For a time.”
“Do it.”
“It’s a little tricky. If we’re not careful, we might ride up on his stern and cause a collision. Even if the boats weren’t badly damaged, you’d be ruled out of race.”
“Do it.”
“He may never speak to me again.”
“I will.”
Matthias sighed again. “You’re a hard master. Peter.”
He waited another five minutes or more, until there was a fair breadth of water between the Lady P’s bow and the other’s stern. Then Matthias turned the wheel, ordering hands to trim in the main and jib. The bow shifted to the left, and in short time the Lady P was in line behind the other craft. Matthias let out the boom again. The mainsail was soon pressing against the starboard mast stay.
Poe went forward to the cabin bulkhead, ducking his head to see under the jib. The commodore’s boat was slowing. Though the light was fading, he thought he could see the other’s big sail begin to slacken.
“We’ll be coming up on him fast,” Matthias warned.
“I don’t care if you get close enough to kiss his ass.”
“He’ll be wanting to kick ours.”
“Keep on coming, Matt.”
They drew ever nearer, the commodore’s boat increasing in size. Its helmsman was trying to maintain his heading. Poe could see crew moving hurriedly about the deck.
Suddenly the other craft’s spinnaker fluttered a moment, billowed out again, then fell slack and collapsed.
“That’s everything you could hope for,” Matthias said. “He’ll be a little while getting that up again.”
Poe grinned. This was more like it. And it was his decision. He really was skippering this boat.
The Lady P plowed forward. They were seconds away from a collision when Matthias spun the helm and they veered away to the left. It seemed the Lady P might strike the other boat on its quarter, but she slid on by.
The two sailboats rode side by side, the Lady P pulling slowly past. The crewmen on the other boat were busy, but the commodore, standing at his helm, stood staring at them with raised fist. His voice came to them loud and raspy.
“You damned ruffian!”
Poe laughed uproariously. In a few minutes, they were well ahead.
In a moment, however, Poe’s expression darkened. “Matt. What if he tries to do the same thing with us?”
Matthias hoped Poe would not be insulted by his answer.
“The commodore,” he said, “is a gentleman.”
The commodore was also stubborn. Twice during the night, he caught up to the Lady P and passed her, compelling Matthias to twice again repeat the wind-blocking maneuver. The commodore even extinguished his riding lights, daring Matthias to risk a collision, but the brilliant starlight was more than enough to delineate the commodore’s huge sails and mast, and Matthias stuck to his guns, though he felt more than a little shameful doing so. Finally the commodore bore off on a tack that took him far to starboard, slipping farther and farther behind as he moved farther and farther out into the lake, where the Lady P wouldn’t interfere with him.
“So much for him,” Poe said.
“Don’t count on it,” Matthias said. “The shoreline curves eastward as you approach the Door County peninsula. We’re going to have to steer to starboard ourselves. I’m sure we’ll still have the commodore to contend with in the morning—not to speak of when we get to Menominee.”
Both men were bone weary.
“I’ll worry about that tomorrow,” Poe said. “I’m going to turn in. How about you?”
“Not yet. I think I’ll stay up through a little of Cindy’s watch. Just in case the commodore tries to make another run past us.”
“You’re sure giving this your all, Matt. I wish I had more people like you working for me.”
/> “If you’re not going to give a sailboat race your all, you shouldn’t be in it.” He paused.
“Something else on your mind, Matt?”
“Yes. For days. I wasn’t sure when to bring it up.”
“Something about your brother, Chris? Something to do with Diandra?”
“No. I was wondering if you had anything to do with my father being put on the Park District board.”
“Why, you don’t think it’s a good idea?”
“He’s rather an old man, and not in the best of health.”
“Vito Marzullo served on the City Council into his nineties.”
“I’m just afraid my father isn’t going to be a very energetic participant, or all that capable a one. I talked to him about it. I’m afraid to say he thought he was being reappointed to the Forest Preserve board.”
“He’s a distinguished man. After that business with O’Rourke, the Park District could use a little respectability. It helps to have your friend Cooperman as president, too. I don’t understand what you’re complaining about.”
“I’m not complaining. I’m just wondering how much you had to do with it.”
“I didn’t pull any strings or anything. I suggested it to a guy is all. It was a very popular idea. The mayor even went for it. Your family’s got a hell of a good reputation in Chicago.”
“Good night, then, Peter.”
“Good night, Matt. Happy sailing.”
At sunrise, the commodore’s boat was still off to the right, but no longer far behind. They were on converging courses, and another duel was likely, with the commodore the probable victor. The wind was blowing now from the west and had fallen to a fairly light breeze. Less heavy than the commodore’s craft, the Lady P would have a more equal chance in gentle weather, but the rival boat still had an edge. What might make a decisive difference lay ahead—the turn around the tip of the Door County peninsula into Green Bay. If the Lady P was going to win the race, it would have to be there.
There were three sail visible on the southern horizon behind them, but, barring accident, they posed no threat.
Matthias had come back topside after only four hours’ sleep. He let Cindy keep the helm, but took a seat beside her, having brought blueberry muffins and coffee for them both. The other crew members changed watch, the newcomers stretching and yawning. On their present course, they had little to do.
The Big Score Page 24