“On the stern of one, it read Annie.
“On the stern of the other, it read Me.
“And the boats were technically identical, but there were a lot of subtle differences between them. Annie’s boat sat low and fat in the water, and the sail didn’t seem to fit quite right. But the devil’s boat danced on the waves, as if it were eager to get the race under way. There was nothing Annie could do about it, though. She marched up to the devil and looked him in the eye. ‘Just remember, Devil,’ she said, yanking him on the sleeve three times. ‘When you feel a little tug, look behind you.’
“The devil laughed, and the sailors helped Annie climb into her boat. At six o’clock sharp, they pushed her boat into deeper water, running behind it as far as they could. Annie set her sail, and the faint breeze pushed the boat ever so slowly away from the beach.
“By eight o’clock, the breeze was strong and fresh. The devil jumped into his boat and filled his sail with a pop. He cut away from the beach, leaving a steady wake behind him.”
Smudge paused and looked around intently at his silent audience. Logan slipped below and returned with a bottle of rum, which he poured into Smudge’s empty glass and one he brought for himself. Smudge took a long drink, wiped his mouth on the back of his hairy forearm, and continued.
“The devil had sailed for just over an hour, and he was in a pretty good mood. He could see Annie’s boat up ahead, growing larger and larger. At the rate he was gaining on her, he would not only beat her overall time, he would actually pass her in the bay!
“Now, he noticed a tanker far off on the horizon to his right. He paid it no mind, because it was so far away that it couldn’t possibly do him any harm. But what the devil didn’t know was that tankers and freighters on the Chesapeake move so fast that if you see one on the horizon, you could be on a collision course.
“Well, the devil kept sailing on, watching that tanker growing larger and larger. But he held his course, confident that he would pass well in front of the big ship. The tanker steamed closer. The devil could see the waves pushed by its bow. But he held his course still, like the stubborn devil that he is.
“Then at the last minute, when it was clear that the sailboat would be crushed by the tanker if the devil didn’t do something, he let fly the mainsheet and sat there motionless in the water, the mainsail luffing loudly and Annie sailing farther and farther away. The devil cursed at Annie and he cursed at the tanker, ’cause he was sure that he had been set up somehow and that this was some kind of trap.
“It took the ship and its wake three minutes to churn by, and then the devil tightened his mainsheet and started sailing again. He could still see Annie’s boat far off in the distance, and he was determined to make up the lost time.
“He sailed on for another hour, gaining steadily on Annie in her wallowing little boat. He began to smile again, confident of a clear victory.
“That’s when he saw the tugboat far off to his left. It was coming his way, but the devil had learned his lesson this time. Instead of sailing on at full speed, and then waiting dead in the water while the tugboat went past, the devil slowed up just a bit. That way, the tugboat would pass in front of his sailboat without forcing him to come to a complete stop.
“And sure enough, the tugboat grew larger and larger, and it slid past the devil’s bow with only fifty yards of clearance. The devil smiled, pleased with his timing, and he tightened his mainsheet and picked up full speed once again.
“Then BAM! The sailboat smashed to a stop, and the devil lurched forward, gashing his cheek on the gunwale. He scrambled to his feet and glared down into the water, trying to find out what he had hit. And there, just below the surface, was a big thick cable, moving from left to right. See, what the devil didn’t know was that barges on the Chesapeake are sometimes so big that tugboats let out a mile or more of cable to keep the barge from crashing into the tugboat’s stern when it stops. The devil looked far off to his left. Sure enough, there was a barge way off, clipping toward him, pulled by the tug. The devil howled at the delay and cursed the tug.
“The tug. Annie’s words came back to him. ‘When you feel a little tug,’ she had said, ‘look behind you.’ Well, the devil felt that tug all right—he had sailed smack into the cable it was pulling—and so slowly, ever so slowly, the devil looked over his shoulder.
“There was nothing there. The devil relaxed. Crazy old woman, he thought. But then, as he stared past his stern, his eyes picked out the tiny distant shape—of another tugboat.
“See, what the devil didn’t know was that some barges on the Chesapeake get so big that it takes two tugboats to pull them. One tug hooks onto the bow of the barge and swings far out to port. The other hooks on and swings far out to starboard. And when the devil realized that he was caught between those two cables, he brought his sailboat about and whizzed back—too late. He hit the second cable. He came about again and shot back, but he hit the first cable once again. He kept on trying, zigging and zagging back and forth and back and forth and backandforthandbackandforth—until finally, the barge was there. And the devil?” Smudge grinned and leaned back. “Well, the devil lost that race.”
“Back at Annie’s that night, the whole crowd of sailors was there, laughing and joking and thanking Annie and their lucky stars. And Annie explained how she had tricked the devil into starting at eight o’clock. She knew the shipping schedule better than anyone alive, and she knew that the devil would sail right in between those two tugs.
“And sailors, they’re a superstitious lot. They like to give names to things that scare them, just to make them seem less threatening. And that night, there at Annie’s, they gave names to those two cables that stretch out from a barge when two tugboats clip on. The cable to port—the first one the devil hit—well, they named it after the devil himself. And the cable to starboard—the one that made the devil realize that he was going for a long swim—well, they named that cable after the deep blue sea.
“And so, if you’re ever caught between the devil and the deep blue sea—well, you know you’re in a trap that the devil himself could not escape.”
And with those words, Smudge drained the rest of his rum, belched three times in rapid fire, and fell sound asleep on the vinyl mat. He stayed there for nearly twenty-four hours, until he finally got up, relieved himself over the rail of the Dreadnought, and with a smile and a wave, climbed back down into the Chamber Pot and sailed off.
CHAPTER SIX
FORTY-THREE KNOTS OF FREEDOM LEFT
July 10th was hot, and little wind blew at all. Logan was at the helm, squinting through his shaggy red hair, but there wasn’t much for him to do. The Dreadnought drifted slowly along Isle au Haut bay. Rockland, where the Dreadnought had first launched several weeks before, was off to the west, but the upscale island of Vinylhaven loomed between the town and the ship. Somehow, even though no one in Rockland knew or cared where the Dreadnought teens were, it seemed safer not to venture too close. The crew donned hats, passed around a bottle of sunscreen, took off nearly all their clothes, and lay on the vinyl mats on deck, absorbing the sun and floating off into daydreams.
The ship creaked mournfully in the gentle swells; the sails filled, then fluttered, then popped full again.
The day was taking a long time to pass.
Dawn was lost in her favorite daydream, featuring a hammered dulcimer. Her favorite instrument, the dulcimer is a large wooden box strung with wires. Handheld hammers striking the wires make a beautiful sound, like the hammers striking wires in the back of a grand piano. The daydream involves a large and quiet crowd and some lyrics Dawn has written herself. With flowers in her hair, she stands poised on stage, smiles a soft freckled smile to the throngs that begin at her feet and rise slowly toward the back of the hall, and then strikes the first chord with her leather-faced hammers.
It was an early-morning highway,
And the cars just kicked up dust.
No one slowed down, a soul could drown,
> There’s no one I can trust.
A limo stopped, a man peered out,
He offered me a ride.
“Just climb on in, and show some skin,
There’s lots of room inside.”
Another guy pulled over fast.
He said, “Babe, you’re in luck.
I am the best, forget the rest,
Just climb up in my truck.”
But I told them all to drive away,
I don’t want trucks and cars.
The soul I seek is strong and meek
And dreams about the stars.
If you want to walk with me,
You’ll have to ditch those wheels,
And find out what the earth is like
And how the Spirit feels.
The crowd listens, hushed, as Dawn sings about energy, about life, and about the things that matter. She sings about the inhuman distractions that are injected into our lives by television and gadgets and material success. She sings about the importance of love, and sensitivity to the pulses of the Earth, and the power of the Goddesses that rule our—
“El almuerzo! Lunchtime!” Joy called out. She emerged from below with a tray piled high with ham and baby Swiss sandwiches. Dawn shook her head to clear her thoughts and return to the tragically mundane world.
Logan grunted. “Oh, boy,” he said. “Mmmmmm–mmmm! Ham again. More preserved meat. Joy, you make wonderful meals outta totally ordinary food, but I’m getting so tired of food out of cans, or stuff that has been, like, salted, cured, and embalmed.” He took a bite of his sandwich as Joy watched with a sweet and hopeful look. “This is good, Joy. It’s really good. But I totally want steak. I demand steaks for everyone! Grilled on a charcoal fire, with, like, baked potatoes, gravy, and sourdough biscuits. But mostly, I’m talking steaks. Big enormous steaks, steaks that spill over all sides of your plate, bright red, medium-rare, hot and juicy and—”
“Enough!” Dawn laughed. “We still have some money from our raid. We can go ashore, buy some steaks and some charcoal, and maybe a little disposable grill, and cook up the best food you ever tasted.”
“I have this trick I do with juniper branches that gives the steaks a taste you’ll never forget,” Joy added.
The crew, drowsy but paying attention, murmured assent. They would go ashore for steaks.
“Lobster float, dead ahead!” Arthur boomed out from the bow. “Turn to port!”
Logan spun the wheel gently counterclockwise. “Aye! Aye! Turning to port!” he chanted back in his best Mutiny on the Bounty accent. The ship creaked and changed direction lazily.
“Okay!” Arthur shouted. “All clear!”
Logan brushed the ruddy hair out of his eyes and nodded. He held the wheel steady.
“Wait!” Arthur called again. “There’s another float. Turn to starboard.”
Logan turned the wheel in the other direction. The ship responded with a yawn.
“Okay!” Arthur said. “All clear.”
The ship drifted farther into the bay, visions of juicy grilled steaks dancing in the heads of the crew.
“Jesse,” Logan said, “how’s your arm feeling? You feel up to rowing ashore with Joy and me to do some shopping?”
Jesse nodded from beneath a cap pulled down across his face. “I’m okay. I’ll do anything people want.”
“Great,” Logan said. “We’ll totally go ashore as soon as we find a town.”
“That would be Stonington,” Dawn called out. She was sitting in a yoga position on an orange mat, her white skin shining in the sun. “I looked at the charts last night. It’s just up ahead.”
“Hold it!” Arthur called from the bow. “Lobster float, dead ahead again. Damn it! I thought we were clear. It’s like these things are moving or something. Turn to port again.”
Logan moved the wheel counterclockwise once again, and the ship began to turn.
“Wait a minute!” Arthur gestured for Logan to stop the boat. Logan chuckled. “It’s gone!” Arthur yelled. “The float is gone! It was here right in front of us, just a minute ago, and now it’s—”
Arthur was silent.
“It’s what?” Logan called forward.
“It’s back!” Arthur said. “It was gone, and now it’s back.”
The crew rushed to the bow, leaving only Logan to steer the ship.
“Seals,” Dawn said. “They’re watching us.”
In the bay, ahead of the Dreadnought, the glistening dark-brown heads of almost three dozen seals bobbed just above the gentle waves. One would disappear, without a sound, and then a few minutes later, another one—or the same one—would surface somewhere else.
Arthur looked to the starboard. He saw more than fifteen clusters of low, flat rocks, barely dry above the ocean’s surface. On them were dozens of large beige and brown masses.
“Look at them all!” he said. “This place is thick with seals!”
As the Dreadnought slid slowly up the bay, the crew watched seals in the water and on the rocks.
“Those are the Scraggy Ledges,” Dawn said. “The charts show good water depth in most of this area. And over there is Brown Cow Island. Obviously, the seals like it here.”
On one of the ledges, a large dark seal lifted its head above the others sleeping in the sun. It flopped awkwardly to one side, then flipped into the water with a nose-down-then-nose-up movement that left it ten feet away from the rock, treading water and peering at the boat.
Another seal that had been watching the ship from dead ahead sank slowly beneath the green waves, then resurfaced in exactly the same spot, staring once again as though nothing had changed. As the Dreadnought drew near, the crew could make out details: the patches of dark and light fur; the large, round, brown eyes; the whiskers. From time to time, one of the seals would bark—usually sending several others scurrying for the safety of the water—but mostly the seals were silent. They simply watched.
Near the bow, Joy gazed down at the seals with an expression of deep affection. “Muy bonito. Very beautiful,” she said to Jesse. “They look like cute, patient little friends.”
Jesse nodded, his homemade tattoos rippling in the sweaty sunlight. “They stick together. Like family.”
“What do you think their view of the world is?” Joy asked.
“Peaceful,” Jesse said. “Peaceful and relaxed and trusting. Not bad. Lie around in the sun. Spend time with each other. Dive into the water and eat all the food you want. Always trusting your friends to keep you safe. Friends and family.”
Joy shook her head slowly. “They’re so lucky,” she said.
In the stern, at the wheel, Logan suddenly grinned. “Hey!” he called out, spotting a chance to be a hero for once. “Is anyone else, like, thinking what I’m thinking?”
Marietta scowled. “I doubt it,” she said.
“Steaks,” Logan said.
Marietta eased herself back down on her mat, rolled her T-shirt up into a tight tuck across her chest, and sighed. “We’ve been over that,” she said. “With juniper.”
“Not those steaks,” Logan said. He gestured toward the seals. “These steaks. We’ve caught lobsters to feed ourselves. So like, why not catch a seal?”
“What are you talking about?” Marietta said drowsily.
“For dinner,” Logan said. “We’ll row over to those rocks in the dinghy, and we’ll go on, like, a seal hunt! Ready—aim—fire! We’ll bring back fresh seal steaks for everyone!”
It didn’t take long for word of Logan’s idea to spread throughout the ship. The crew gathered around the wheel.
“Count me out,” Arthur said. “For all we know, seal meat tastes like shit. I mean that literally. Besides, I’m not going to kill some seal just because we’re tired of eating ham.”
“Neither am I,” Dawn said, her green eyes angry. “These creatures have done us no harm, and it would be cruel to shatter their lives with our greed.”
“Actually, I don’t see the difference,” Joy said. The others s
tared at her in surprise. “Look, I take live lobsters, drop them into boiling water, and clamp a lid on so they can’t get out. To eat, we have to kill. God gave us these animals so we could live. If you get your food from a supermarket, that just means you have someone else do the killing for you.”
The argument continued until Logan raised his hand. “Excuse me, everyone!” he said. “I’m totally going on a seal hunt, and whoever wants to come along can go. If you don’t like it, don’t go—and don’t eat the steaks. Now who’s going with me?”
Joy agreed to go, which surprised everyone again. “Hey,” she said, “I’d rather hunt for food than steal it.” BillFi joined also. Crystal looked over at the seals, then she shook her head.
“Not me,” she said. “My money is on the seals.”
“That makes three of us,” Logan said. “That’s perfect. Now—we’ll need something to use as clubs.”
Crystal nodded. “Belaying pins,” she said.
“What pins?” Logan asked.
“Belaying pins, nimrod,” Crystal said, putting her hands on her hips. “Long wooden pins with handles on the ends. Perfect for cracking a skull.”
“Where are they?” Logan asked.
“Right over there.” Crystal pointed to the rigging on the starboard side. “Help yourself.”
“Then we’re all set,” Logan said. “Let’s drop anchor and get started.”
A short while later, the seal hunters hunkered down in the dinghy, trying not to scare their prey. Their bare feet chilled in the puddle of seawater that always seemed to slosh on the dinghy floor. Logan rowed the boat slowly across the water toward a small cluster of glistening seal-covered rocks. BillFi, crouched in the bow, whispered back that eight seals were basking just up ahead. Joy, next to him, shrugged. She could see nothing but an undulating mass of beige fur.
“Here’s the plan,” Logan wheezed. He felt excited at the prospect of leading an adventure. He grinned as the others looked to him for guidance. When I bring back a big seal and we all have seal steaks tonight, he thought, Crystal will pay attention to me then. She’ll have to. I’ll be a hero.
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