As you struggle in the wind to tether yourself to the boat, you yell out to Chelsea to do the same.
“No time!” she shouts back. “Come here now—or the mast will break!”
SAVE THE MAST FIRST AND NEITHER ONE OF YOU HARNESSES.
BOTH HARNESS FIRST.
HARNESS AND LET CHELSEA DO AS SHE PLEASES.
You wait for Georgina to take a good look at that amazing fish. She swims toward it with you by her side, sharing her tank of air. The fish’s distinctive stripes and spiny fins fan out over its entire body. Most other fish swim in schools, but this fish travels solo. It moves alongside a coral reef, then darts into a shadowy hole.
Georgina taps your shoulder, shakes out her hair, and makes roaring gestures. Then she points to the fish. Charades! You get it. That fish is a lionfish.
You’ve read about lionfish, but you had to learn so much to get ready for this journey that it’s hard to match the correct fact with the correct sea creature. What’s special about it? you wonder. Maybe if you get a better look, you’ll remember.
You both move close against the reef, staying side by side since you are attached by the shared regulator. Through your scuba masks, you peer into the dark hole. The magnificent lionfish stares back.
Georgina is so entranced that she reaches her hand out toward it. “Ouch!” she gurgles. She recoils, and it’s clear to you that she is in horrible pain. The lionfish stung her!
Tears well in her eyes. Her hand swells to three times its normal size. Now you recall that the lionfish is a member of the scorpionfish family, and its spines are poisonous. A sting from a lionfish is excruciating. Her hand must feel as if it’s on fire.
You need to help Georgina, but how?
Georgina’s pain grows more and more severe. The muscles in her hand and arm cramp up. She’s overcome with light-headedness, and the regulator drops from her mouth. You reach for it but miss, since you are still attached to her tank. Seawater rushes into her mouth and she begins to sink, dragging you down with her. It’s as if cement blocks are attached to your feet, pulling you to the bottom. The lionfish watches both of you drown from its reefy home.
Georgina should have remembered her manners: look but don’t touch!
THE END
“Jason is the skipper,” you tell the others. “We need to respect the chain of command. If he thinks he’s able to stay at the wheel, we need to trust his judgment.”
“Give me some room!” Jason commands. “I can’t steer with all of you breathing on top of me.”
“Help me check the lines,” Georgina says to you and Brandon, as David and Chelsea go below.
“I checked them yester—”
“Shh!” Georgina cuts off Brandon. “I want to stay close to Jason.”
The three of you pretend to fix the ropes but really keep your eyes on Jason. The shallow ocean shimmers pale aqua in the sunshine. The winds blow strongly, whipping across the deck and filling the sails. Jason navigates expertly around the rocks and reefs, taking advantage of the high tide. He knows you are watching, and he seems more skilled exhausted than you are wide awake.
You watch the barren, jagged Australian coastline go by. Then you get company. A huge white bird lands on the deck. He enjoys the sunshine and free ride for an hour, then flies away.
Ugh! He left behind a present.
“Your turn to clean the deck!” Georgina says to you. Then she and Brandon laugh.
“Bird poop is good luck,” Georgina says as she watches you scrub.
David comes back up, and he doesn’t look as if he has good news. His brow is furrowed with concern. “The winds are changing, and so is the tide.”
The gusty wind blows hard from the east, pushing the Chronos II closer and closer to a reef. You see the rocky ridge poking up from the clear rushing water. David tries unsuccessfully to judge by the breaking waves how long and deep it runs. Jason grits his teeth, as he steers, and sweat drips into his eyes.
You hurry to help Chelsea with the sails. Together, you all work to tack close to the reef. The plan is to change tacks at just the right moment to slip around the reef into another narrow passage. Timing is key. Darkness starts to fall, and the dim light makes maneuvering extra tricky. The crew gets ready to make the move on “three.”
“One,” Jason calls. “Two—”
Jason turns the wheel too fast and too soon. His judgment is off. CRASH! The hull hits the rocks. The only thing this overtired skipper should be counting is sheep. Sweet dreams! Your voyage has been put to bed.
THE END
I have a better chance of reaching David, you think.
David’s diving rig has an extra regulator in case of an emergency. You start to swim to him, but he still has his back to you. Every time you get closer to him, he swims farther away from you.
Your chest really hurts now. Your lungs are empty. You’re starting to feel dizzy.
Suddenly, David turns to you.
You point to your tank.
You feel yourself blacking out—it’s too late.
But he reaches you in time. He passes his extra regulator to you. You take deep gulps, filling your lungs with oxygen.
You both head up to the surface, sharing his tank of air.
You make sure you swim slowly. You focus on exhaling. If you don’t remember to exhale continuously, your lungs will burst.
Finally, you see sunlight cutting through the water’s surface.
You made it!
It’s time to leave Cairns.
Jason begins to pilot through the Torres Strait. It lies between Australia and Papua New Guinea, and it will take you to the Indian Ocean.
The strait is a sailor’s nightmare. It’s a maze of islands, over 200 of them. One strong wind can send you crashing into their rocky shores or stony coral reefs. Or you can run aground in the blink of an eye because the water is very shallow.
And that’s the good news.
The bad news is Jason hasn’t slept in a week. He keeps nodding off at the wheel, but he won’t give up control of the boat.
Face it, you tell yourself. You’re dead in the water.
“The winds are picking up,” Georgina interrupts your thoughts.
Jason grips the wheel tighter.
The boat pitches back and forth.
Jason is taking the boat through a channel filled with reefs. Reefy and shallow.
Riiiiiiip.
Everyone on deck gasps.
That’s a sound you don’t want to hear.
Riiiiiip. There it is again—the sound of your keel scraping against rock.
“Jason, if the hull splits, this game is over,” Brandon says. “Give up the wheel. Now.”
“Not happening,” Jason says. “Unless you want to hit me in the head with a book.”
Jason and Brandon haven’t been getting along very well since the book accident.
“How about I take the wheel?” you say.
“Thanks, but I’ve got it,” Jason says. “I’m the only one who can sail these kinds of waters.”
BANG!
The keel smacks into a rock beneath the surface.
“I hope that wasn’t the rudder,” David says. He looks pale. “That sounded like the rudder to me.”
“Get Chelsea,” Brandon whispers to you. “Maybe she can convince Jason to give up the boat.”
You find Chelsea below, sitting at the table, trimming her nails. Georgina is on the laptop, searching for the next window of good weather.
At the sound of your footsteps, Georgina looks up and lets out a shriek.
“What are you doing?” she shouts at Chelsea. Then she leaps across the cabin and snatches the nail clippers from her.
“Are you crazy?” Chelsea says. “Give that back to me.”
“You’ll ruin your nails with those,” Georgina says, but you can tell that’s not what she’s really thinking.
“Chelsea, we need you on deck,” you say. “You have to convince Jason to get some sleep.”
> Chelsea narrows her eyes at Georgina. “Okay,” she says, following you up on deck.
“Jason, let someone else take the wheel for a while,” Chelsea begs. “You have to rest.”
“Not necessary,” Jason says, his head nodding, heavy with fatigue.
“You can guide us through here,” David whispers to you.
“If we leave Jason up there, this boat is history,” Brandon agrees.
You’re not sure what to do. Jason is more experienced than you are. Maybe he should stay at the helm in these tricky waters.
TAKE OVER THE WHEEL.
LEAVE JASON AT THE HELM.
It takes only four days to gather three other boats to form a flotilla.
“Mine will be the lead boat,” announces a burly Egyptian man with thick, curly hair. “I’ve sailed this route many times.”
Jason grumbles. He hates not being in charge.
“At least the other boats don’t want to lead,” you remark. One boat has two retirees, and the other has a French movie star and her entourage, who spend their time sun tanning.
The burly guy’s name is Rami, and he’s calling the shots. All four boats stay close, and you successfully make it through the Gulf of Aden and into the Red Sea. At one point, you spot a skiff filled with Somali men, but they veer away when they see you all together.
It’s strange sailing so close to these people after all these months alone. The French boat is a floating party. Dance music thumps late into the night. The old people insist on constant radio contact, telling you all about their trip. You’ve heard their same stories twenty times now. And you just can’t figure out Rami. He’s always on his cell phone and never seems to sleep.
Together, your four boats sail the Gulf of Suez and approach the Suez Canal. The 118-mile canal connects the Red Sea to the Mediterranean Sea. Ships can travel in only one direction at a time because the canal is so narrow. Convoys of several ships are sent through together.
Canal officials tell you that every boat needs written approval from the Suez Canal Authority at least five days before crossing. The approval involves lots of paperwork and documents, along with health and immigration inspections—plus, all boats must hire a pilot to lead them through the canal. The Chronos II has none of that.
The French actress and the old couple already had their papers, and they leave to travel through the canal. David e-mails Mr. Houseman, but even with all his connections, it will take days. “Now we may not make it back in time,” David points out. “Plus we already lost time waiting for the flotilla.”
“I can help,” Rami calls to everyone. “My cousin is a pilot. Plus I have friends who can make the approvals happen fast.”
Excellent! Rami to the rescue. You were wrong to have been suspicious of him.
“My services come at a cost,” Rami warns. “Give me your valuables. Laptops, music players, jewelry. I especially like those fancy watches you kids wear.”
“I’m not giving you my stuff!” Georgina cries.
“Then you’ll wait,” Rami says. “My friends can make you wait here a long, long time. It could take weeks before you get through the canal.”
“That’s not fair,” you protest. “You can’t blackmail us.” Brandon and David agree.
“Can’t I?” Rami sneers.
Jason gathers the crew into a huddle. “Maybe we should do it,” he says. “Breaking the record is more important than some watches.”
“How do we know Rami’s legit?” Georgina asks. “What if we hand over our stuff and he doesn’t deliver?”
“I refuse to pay this slimy guy a bribe,” Chelsea declares.
“We can’t let him bully us,” Brandon says.
Jason nods. “You’re right. We’ll keep our watches and wait our turn.”
WAIT FOR MR. HOUSEMAN TO GET APPROVALS.
“Over here!” you scream. “Hey! Here!” But the Chronos II sails in the opposite direction. Away from you.
Your legs paddle furiously as you try to keep your head above the surface. You start to swim toward the boat. Pull, pull, kick, breathe. You pause and shout to the yacht again. Your voice is a whisper in the howling wind, so it’s back to swimming. Pull, pull, kick, breathe. You cut through one wave only to have another push you back.
You can’t battle the waves head-on any longer. Changing course, you swim diagonally, avoiding the punishing pounding of the water. Your arms are no better than wet noodles. You raise your head to see if you are any closer to the yacht.
Oh, no! The Chronos II is a dot on the horizon. You’ve been swimming in the wrong direction.
Then a tightness grips your left side. A cramp. You bend over, trying to squeeze the jabbing pain away. It keeps coming. You roll your knees into your chest and grit your teeth. Then you start to sink. Twisting and tumbling, you lose sight of the surface.
You’re headed to the bottom. And there you’ll remain—in your watery grave under the sea.
THE END
You’ve watched enough Shark Week specials to know that your best hope is to fight back. If you swim and splash, the shark will only get more agitated and more aggressive.
Do you have what it takes to fight a shark? You sure hope so.
The shark glides toward you. Its massive head is within arm’s reach. The time is now. Your plan is to gouge it in the eyes or punch it in the gills, its most sensitive spots. The nose is also sensitive, but it is way too close to those powerful jaws for your taste. Your fingers could get chomped off in one quick bite.
The shark is inches away now. Your heart hammers in your chest. You have only one chance. You go for the gills, pummeling with all your strength, blow after blow.
The shark recoils. It swims away from you, dazed and confused. You did it!
Now you swim like there’s no tomorrow. And for you, there almost wasn’t. The Chronos II is in sight, not too far away. The shark is no longer in sight, and you don’t dare search for it. Hopefully it won’t return for revenge.
You are almost back to the yacht. With a burst of energy, you pull your arms through the water…and then you feel your high-tech Chronos watch slip from your wrist. The momentum of your stroke flings it out of reach. It lands with a splash, and you can just make out the glint of the silver face as it bobs on the surface. It was a present from Jules Houseman Jr. Each crew member received one on the day you left California. It’s stronger than steel, and you can read it underwater easily. It is incredible. Luckily, it also floats.
No one knows it, but you and Mr. Houseman have a secret connection. You plan to share it with the crew when the time is right. The watch is important to you—more important than the others realize. But now it is floating away on the waves.
LET THE WATCH GO AND SWIM TO THE CHRONOS II.
SWIM AFTER THE WATCH.
“It’s a good-sized fish.” You stare at its strange spines. “But I’m not sure what kind it is. I don’t know how it will taste.”
“It has to taste better than dirty worms,” Brandon says. That’s what Brandon calls the dehydrated spaghetti.
“Sorry. We have to throw it back,” you say. “It’s too dangerous to eat something we can’t identify.”
Your stomach grumbles, but you know it’s the right thing to do. As you near the Panama Canal, you receive an unexpected treat. You finally catch your tuna. But the canal has another surprise for you—and this one is lethal.
Sailing into the Panama Canal is a nightmare. Worse than any storm you’ve been through. It’s a major traffic lane for ships crossing between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Huge ships.
You’re thinking about this as Jason yells, “Ocean liner!” You look behind you. A big cruise ship is closing in and it wants to pass you.
Jason can’t maneuver to escape in time. He grabs the VHF radio and contacts the ship. He’s yelling.
You watch in horror as the liner gains on you.
Jason turns the wheel sharply. The radio flies out of his hand and soars overboard.
“Should we jump into the water before that ship crashes into us?” Chelsea asks.
“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” David says, and he points into the water.
At the crocodiles staring back at you. Hungry crocodiles.
Just in the nick of time, the cruise ship slows down and a strong breeze carries you forward to safety.
You won’t be jumping overboard, at least not today.
You meet with the Panama Canal Authority. There are lots of ships waiting their turn to travel through the canal. It takes forever, but they give you your time slot.
“That’s not possible!” Jason shouts.
It takes only one day to pass through the canal—but the slot they have reserved for you is two weeks away. You can’t wait that long. You’ll lose the contest!
Jason begs the port captain. He tells him about the competition.
It works.
Two days later, a Panama boat pilot is assigned to your boat to guide you through the canal. This side of the canal is higher than sea level, so your boat needs to be raised up to sail through it. Your boat will enter a chamber, called a lock, where water enters and raises the boat.
Over fifty million gallons of water flood into the chamber. Your pulse quickens as the water rises, lifting the Chronos II up, up, up…
You travel through three sets of locks into Gatún Lake. As you sail across the lake, the scorching Panama sun beats down on you. Crocodiles snap their powerful jaws at you.
It’s difficult to remain alert in the intense heat. You’re tired, thirsty, and dizzy from the sun. But you have to be watchful.
You are approaching the chambers that will now lower you down to sea level into the Pacific Ocean.
The boat pilot helps Jason steer the yacht into the chamber. A tugboat helps guide you in.
The Worst-Case Scenario Ultimate Adventure Novel: Deadly Seas Page 6