Watching them now, I noticed that Sophie was spending much more time wrestling and splashing with Daz than with Tom. She certainly seemed to look up to him and I wondered if there was the start of something else going on there. If there was, it wasn’t surprising: if it wasn’t for him she’d almost certainly be dead.
I nodded towards Sophie, ‘I wouldn’t have thought she’d be keen to get back in after yesterday.’
‘Me neither. She doesn’t remember any of it, though,’ Claire waved to her and she waved back. ‘Judging by how hard the boom hit her, she was probably out cold before she even hit the water.’
‘But still ...’
‘She’s pretty resilient really. She always has been, even as a toddler. When she was learning to walk, she’d fall down and smack her head off the floor. I’d pick her up and hold her until she stopped crying, then the moment I put her down, she’d try it again.’ Claire looked lovingly at her daughter. ‘It was so different with Jake. He’d get put off by any set back. I remember when he was learning to ride his bike, he fell off and it took me a month to get him to give it another go ...’
Claire stopped suddenly. I glanced across and saw tears streaming down her face. I put my arm around her and she buried her head in my shoulder, her body heaving with each deep sob.
‘Tom, pull in the sheet there; just a tad. That’s it.’ Daz turned the wheel slightly to the right and then straightened it. ‘Sophie, tighten up on the jib a little. When I call out, let them go an’ pull them in on the other side. Ready about?’
‘Ready!’ Both Tom and Sophie sang out in reply.
‘Lee-ho!’ With that, Daz turned the wheel sharply to the left. It was the first time I’d let him be in charge while we changed from one tack to another, and he’d started too soon. I could see he wasn’t going to make it, but I was doing my best not to interfere: he’d learn much faster by making mistakes on his own than with me stepping in and taking over. Sure enough, the boat stalled halfway round, causing the salmon fillets to swing around wildly as the boat swayed back and forth. A moment later, the wind pushed us back onto our original course.
‘Tom, Sophie, pull in the sheets on the right side again.’ I watched the sails tighten up then I glanced across at Daz. He looked both frustrated and slightly embarrassed. I gave him a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry. It takes everyone a few goes to get the hang of it. You ready to try again?’
Daz nodded. I sat back and watched. Again he failed, but on the third attempt he succeeded and we were soon racing along our new course in the strong afternoon breeze. Daz raised his arms above his head in triumph and Tom, Sophie, Claire and I applauded. He beamed at me, pride written all over his face. For the rest of the afternoon, Daz stood happily at the wheel, ordering the others around and practising the same manoeuvre over and over again. By suppertime he was getting it pretty near perfect on almost every attempt.
While Daz was improving his sailing skills, I studied the charts with Claire, trying to decide where we should go next. To our north was a chain of islands of ever-decreasing sizes, which lay almost parallel to the mainland, separated from each other by narrow and dangerous channels.
‘We’ve got two choices. We can go west through here.’ I pointed to the channel between the island which currently lay to our left, and the next one up. ‘And try this island here, which is Colonsay, or we could keep going north.’ I ran my finger up the east side of a large island with the name Jura printed on it, ‘and see if we can find anyone in any of these settlements.’
Claire examined the chart closely. ‘It looks like there are more places to check out if we keep going north. That should mean a better chance of finding other survivors.’
‘True, but if we do that we’ll have to keep going north, and that means we have to pass this.’ I stabbed my finger at the chart.
Claire leaned forward, squinting as she tried to work out what the strange markings on the chart meant. ‘What is that?’
‘That is the entrance to the Corryvreckan whirlpool.’
Corryvreckan wasn’t a place for the faint-hearted. Years before, I’d sat on the hills above it when the whirlpool was in full flow and seen the maelstrom first-hand. It was a quarter of a mile across and I could hear it roar even though I was more than 500 yards away. I’d watched as three boats approached it and all turned back after being tossed around like corks on the eddies and the standing waves. If we ended up in conditions like that, the yacht would be torn apart and we’d all surely drown.
Claire shot bolt upright. ‘A whirlpool?’
‘Yeah, but it’s only dangerous in some tidal states. As long as we time it right, it’s not really that much of a problem. Anyway, we’re not going to try to go through it, we just need to get past the entrance without getting dragged in.’
Claire sat back. ‘Have you done it before?’
‘Yes, loads of times.’ I leant backwards, too, ‘but always with an engine as back-up in case the wind suddenly changed, or a storm blew up.’ I glanced up at the sky, trying to judge the weather and what might be coming over the next few days: it looked settled now, but you could never tell what might be just over the horizon.
‘So as long as we’re careful, it’s not too much of a problem?’
I nodded. ‘That pretty much sums it up.’
Claire considered this for a few seconds. ‘And if we go north, we’ve got a better chance of finding people?’
‘Yes.’
‘Hmmm …’ Claire stared at the chart. ‘Okay, let’s go for it; let’s go north. You never know, we might even find other survivors before we get anywhere near the whirlpool.’
Chapter Twelve
So far, Jura had been a bust. After my close escape in Port Ellen, none of us had dared go ashore again, but every time we’d come near a settlement, even when it was just an isolated croft or a cluster of white-washed buildings, we’d seen evidence of infected. Either we saw them standing, staring off into the distance, waiting for something to happen, or we saw the remains of their victims scattered across the ground. Sometimes we saw both, with the infected picking over the carcasses of those they’d killed. It had been a long two days, sapping our hope with every new discovery, but before nightfall I wanted to push even further north.
To make matters worse, our attempt at preserving the salmon by drying it had failed. I’d emerged that morning to the stench of rotting fish. I guess the air was too moist and the sun not strong enough to preserve them properly. It had taken me a good hour to cut all the fillets down and throw them over the side. I watched as they drifted off into our wake, aware that we were back where we’d started: in need of food and with little option but to try to get what we could from the sea.
I’d kept my eyes peeled, but since we’d left the Clyde, I’d seen no more flurries of gannets, indicating fish feeding close to the surface, and since we had little left to eat, I was beginning to worry: what would happen when we ran out? I was just mulling this over when I spotted something which might solve the food problem, at least temporarily. ‘Daz, see that red buoy there?’
‘Yeah, I saw it.’ Daz sounded put out that I thought he’d missed it. ‘I’m keepin’ clear of it, just like you told me to do with the others.’
I stood up. ‘No, steer towards this one.’
‘But I thought you said ...’
I cut him off. ‘I know, but I’ve got an idea. Give me the wheel and then go up front; take Tom with you. When we get there I’m going to turn into the wind. Try to grab it and then pull it up and loop the rope it’s attached to over the cleat on the bow.’
‘But why?’ Daz looked puzzled.
I smiled. ‘You’ll just have to wait and see!’
Five minutes later, we had the sails down and the rope from the buoy tied securely to the bow.
I rubbed my hands together. ‘Let’s see what we can bring up.’
‘What d’you mean, “bring up”?’ Daz frowned. ‘What’s on the other end?’
‘Lobster c
reels!’ I shot back.
Daz scratched his head, ‘Lobster whats?’
‘Creels: they’re like traps.’ I peered over the side, trying to get an idea of how far down they might be. ‘Fishermen put bait in them to attract things like lobsters and crabs. Once they get in, they can’t get back out again.’
Daz nodded, taking in this new information. ‘And you can eat them?’
‘You bet!’
Daz and I started hauling on the rope, while Tom coiled what we pulled on board into a neat pile. Within a few minutes, the first trap broke the surface and a moment later it was on deck. Unfortunately, with the exception of a few crabs which were too small to bother with, it was empty. I threw the crabs over the side and we hauled in the next one: it was completely empty.
Tom wiped his hands on the guard rail, trying to get rid of the slime which had come off the rope as he’d coiled it. ‘Is this really worth it?’
‘Hopefully.’ I reached up, stretching out my back. ‘Even if there’s nothing in them now, the creels themselves will be useful for catching food.’
We went back to work and brought up the next one. It was covered in a mass of writhing arms.
Daz watched as one of the animals drop onto the deck and wriggled across it. ‘What the hell’s that?’
I chuckled at his reaction. ‘It’s a brittle star. It’s a kind of starfish.’
Daz knelt down and examined it. ‘Mental!’
After a few seconds, he tried to pick it up, but its arm snapped off in his hand. ‘Oh shit! I didn’t mean to hurt it.’ Then he noticed the severed arm was still moving and dropped it with surprise. It thrashed around on the deck. ‘What the fuck?’
‘Don’t worry. It’ll grow back.’ I scooped up the brittle star and its dismembered arm, and threw then both over the side. ‘It’s something they do to distract predators.’
I opened the door of the creel and emptied the rest of the brittle stars over the side. Together, we watched as they sank from sight.
‘What’s that then?’ Daz pointed to a round object about the size of a man’s fist and covered in short spines which was wedged into a corner of the trap.
‘That,’ I carefully plucked it out, ‘is good eating!’
Daz wrinkled his nose. ‘You can’t eat that, can you?’
‘Not all of it, but some of it.’ I placed the sea urchin in the bucket I’d put nearby in case we got anything worth keeping. ‘Just the roe really: it’s a bit of a delicacy.’
Daz remained unconvinced, and slightly disgusted, while Tom just laughed.
After an hour of hard work, we’d pulled up some thirty traps and had a bucket filled with shellfish of various descriptions, as well as three more large, spiny sea urchins: they’d make a nice change from the fish which had made up almost our entire diet since we’d left the Clyde. I put the bucket aside and tried to work out what to do with the creels which were now piled untidily on the bow. There was no way we could take all of them with us, but I was keen to take some. I surveyed the deck and figured we could probably store about a dozen on top of the cabin without them getting too much in the way. After I cut the rope, Daz and Tom threw the unwanted creels back into the sea while I tied the ones we were keeping securely into place.
‘Now we get our reward for all that hard work.’ I picked up one of the sea urchins and cracked it open before scooping out five plump orange lobes and throwing the rest away. I cut a small piece off one of the lobes and popped it into my mouth, savouring the texture and the taste. Daz and Tom watched curiously.
I cut off some more slices and held them out towards Daz and Tom. ‘You want to try some?’
Tentatively, they took the orange morsels, examining them closely and then looking at each other. Daz spoke first. ‘I’ll do it, if you do it, too.’
‘Deal.’ Tom took a deep breath. ‘On the count of three: one, two, three!’
While Daz swallowed his, Tom’s was spat over the side. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘That’s disgusting!’
‘I dunno.’ Daz was still undecided. ‘It’s an interestin’ sort of taste.’
I cut off another piece and held it out. ‘You want some more?’
‘Yeah,’ Daz said noncommittally, ‘but what exactly is it?’
I waited until he’d put the next bit into his mouth before answering. ‘Gonads!’
This time Daz spat over the side rather than swallowing. ‘Urgh! You mean like ...? Awww, that’s mingin’.’ He spat over the side again. ‘Why d’you no’ tell me that’s what I was eatin’?’
I laughed at his reaction and cut off another piece for myself before carrying everything down to the galley. Once inside, I threw crab claws, langoustines and lobster tails into a large pan with some olive oil and a bit of paprika, and put it on the stove. Tom sat at the table, while Daz filled a glass with water and used it to rinse out his mouth. The other two came through from the front cabin and Claire sniffed the pan. ‘That smells good.’
‘You want some of that?’ I pointed to where the orange lobes from the sea urchins lay on a plate.
Daz turned round. ‘Don’t fall for that. They’re sea urchin gonads. You know like ...’
‘Uni!’ Claire and Sophie called out in unison.
I smiled at them. ‘Freshest you’ll ever get.’
A confused expression spread across Daz’s face. ‘But ... What’s uni?’
‘It’s what the Japanese call it: it’s great. We had it when Mum took us to Tokyo last summer. Jake wouldn’t even try it though ...’ Sophie stopped suddenly and her face dropped. A moment later, she turned and walked quickly from the room.
I looked at Claire. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known, could you?’ Claire got to her feet. ‘I’d better go after her.’
That evening, Tom, Claire and I sat in the cockpit, while Daz and Sophie sat up by the bow, dangling their legs over the side and chatting. Tom was fidgeting, and I could tell he was missing his cigarettes. I decided I’d see if I could take his mind off it.
‘Hey, Tom, I’ve been meaning to say, thanks for what you said the other night, it really helped.’
‘I thought it might have; you seem to be doing better now.’ Tom replied distractedly. ‘You know I was only returning the favour.’
Claire raised a curious eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. I figured I owed her an explanation. ‘I got a little overwhelmed by everything the other night, and Tom helped me put it all in perspective.’
‘The way I see it,’ Tom glanced at each of us in turn, ‘we’re all going to struggle from time to time, and we’ll all need to be there for each other when that happens.’
Claire nodded, and we fell back into silence. I looked towards the bow and remembered something which had been niggling away since the first day. ‘Claire, can I ask you about something Sophie said? You don’t need to answer if you don’t want to.’
Claire frowned. ‘What?’
‘Remember on the first night, when the infected was trying to drag you over the side?’
‘How could I forget!’
‘Well, Sophie said she couldn’t lose you, too, not after losing her father. What was she talking about?’
Claire shifted uncomfortably and said nothing.
Realising it was something Claire didn’t want to talk about, I quickly apologised. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.’
Claire cleared her throat. ‘No, it’s okay.’ She stared down at her hands. ‘Dan, my partner, and I had been together since our late twenties. We met when we were working in the same refugee camp; just two people from Glasgow who found ourselves a long way from home.’
She smiled sadly as she relived the memory. ‘Anyway, we hit it off right away, and when I found out I was pregnant a few years later, we both decided to go back home so we could have a proper family life.’
Claire swept her hair back and looked off into the distance. ‘When Sophie was ten, Dan started to get ill. It took a
while for the doctors to work it out, but it turned out to be leukaemia. He didn’t respond to chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant was the next step. When no one else in either of our families turned out to be a suitable donor, Sophie insisted she should be tested, too, and she was a perfect match. We both said she didn’t have to do it if she didn’t want to, but she did it anyway. She was so brave about it.’
Claire wiped the corner of her eye. ‘It seemed to work at first, and he went into remission, but after a couple of years it came back. They tried another transplant, but this time it didn’t work. Sophie was so close to her dad; in many ways closer than me and her ever were, and it was awful to watch her have to go through it all again only for it not to make any difference.’
Claire’s voice dropped to almost a whisper. ‘He died just over a year ago, and Sophie was so lost without him. Somewhere deep inside, she blames herself for the transplant not working the second time; she thinks there was something more she could have done.’ Claire swallowed. ‘Losing Jake, and then almost losing me, brought it all back again, just as it seemed like she was finally starting to get over it.’
Claire glanced towards the bow. ‘Sometimes, I don’t know how she does it. She’s so young and she’s been through so much, yet she just keeps on going. And now all this: if it wasn’t for her, I think I’d have given up by now. The only thing that’s keeping me going is knowing I can’t leave her on her own. I think that’s her biggest fear: having no one left and being all alone in the world.’
I thought about this. The way the world was now, we all needed something to keep us going. For Claire and Sophie, it was to be there for each other; Tom and I knew each other inside out, we had our shared past to help us keep each other from falling apart, but, I wondered, what was keeping Daz going? Then I realised: Daz kept going for himself; with his upbringing, if he hadn’t learned how to do that as a kid, he’d never have made it as far as he had in life.
***
The next morning we were up early: our passage would be a tricky one as we’d finally be passing the entrance to the Corryvreckan whirlpool. I checked my watch; we’d have the tide with us for the next six hours, which was just as well. The currents were so strong in the channel we were aiming for that we’d have no chance of getting through it under sail if they were flowing the other way. The only problem was that this would mean the tide would also be pushing us towards the whirlpool.
For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak Page 19