Dead in the Water

by Robin Stevenson

  Olivia looked at me, eyebrows disappearing under her hair. “In need of assistance? That sounds like we’re just running out of gas or something.”

  “Well, what do you want me to say? That some men are trying to kill us?” I snuck a peek over my shoulder. Salty Mist was closing the gap fast.

  “Yes!”

  There was a loud explosion in my ears and my heart stopped beating for a moment. I looked around, my ears still ringing. Joey was standing at the stern rail, the flare gun in his hand, and a red plume of smoke was snaking high into the sky.

  “Give us some warning next time,” I said, pressing my hand over my jack-hammering heart. Then I spoke into the radio again. “We’re setting off flares. We are being chased by a cabin cruiser called Salty Mist and the men onboard just tried to kill us. Umm, over.”

  We all waited. I hoped Patrick had lied about us being out of range. I hoped that someone was out there, listening, and that they wouldn’t dismiss our call as a prank. I hoped we hadn’t escaped just to be caught again.

  And then a voice responded. “Jeopardy, this is the Coast Guard. Please repeat your location and the nature of your distress. Over.”

  Olivia, Blair and Joey all started whooping with relief and excitement, and I had to shush them before I responded. “We’re in the Goletas Channel about eight miles northwest of Port Hardy...” I trailed off, reluctant to say it. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Salty Mist, only a few hundred feet away. “Well, the men on this other boat kind of tried to kill us, and now they’re chasing after us, and they’re really close. Umm, over.”

  “Roger.” The operator sounded completely calm, her voice flat and nasal. I wondered if she’d actually understood what I’d just said.

  “Jeopardy, switch to channel 83.”

  I changed to 83 quickly, fighting panic. Salty Mist was getting awfully close. “Coast Guard, this is Jeopardy.”

  In the same calm, flat voice, the radio operator asked for the details of our situation. Standing at the stern, Blair was signalling me to hurry up. “We were...these men were poaching abalone...Umm...” Salty Mist was so close now that I could see Victor standing at the bow. I couldn’t think. I took my finger off the Transmit button. “Olivia? Can you explain? I’ll...” I trailed off. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I had to do something.

  Olivia nodded, took the microphone and in a voice almost as calm as the operator’s, she started to explain what had happened.

  At the helm, Blair was holding us on course, his face grim. Joey was standing at the stern, loading another flare into the flare gun. “Any ideas?” I asked them.

  “I was thinking about shooting a flare at their boat,” Joey said. “If it made a hole in the hull, maybe they’d sink.”

  “Try it,” I said. “Nothing to lose.”

  Salty Mist was almost on top of us now, coming up on our starboard side and slowing down to match our pace. Keith was at the wheel, up top on the fly bridge. I couldn’t see Patrick and wondered where he was. Joey fired the flare gun, and we all clapped our hands over our ears.

  A plume of red smoke hung in the air, but Salty Mist didn’t slow down.

  “Just bounced off her hull,” Joey muttered in disgust. “Useless.”

  “They’re trying to get alongside,” I said. I watched Victor, standing at the bow, his eyes fixed on Jeopardy. “I bet Victor’s going to try to jump across to our boat.”

  “Well, let’s make it harder for them,” Blair said. “Let’s turn around or something.”

  “We’ll have to jibe,” I said. The easiest way to turn a sailboat is to tack—to turn the bow of the boat through the wind—but with Salty Mist so close on our windward side, that wasn’t an option. Jibing means turning the boat away from the wind, so that the stern of the boat moves through the wind instead of the bow. It’s more difficult, but I’d done it plenty of times. I just hadn’t done it on a boat with broken rigging.

  chapter twenty

  Salty Mist eased a little closer, and Victor was poised to jump. “Let’s do it,” I yelled. Blair turned the wheel to port, and Jeopardy responded, turning away from Salty Mist. I held my breath. I had to wait until the wind was almost behind us—if I pulled the main sheet in tight too soon, we’d lose speed and possibly steerage, which would be a disaster in this situation. But if I waited too long, the wind could catch the boom and send it crashing across the cockpit. I wasn’t sure how much strain our broken rigging could handle.

  Now. I pulled the main sheet in tight, bringing the boom across the center of the boat. “Ready!”

  Blair turned the wheel further to port. “Jibe ho!” he yelled as the wind pushed the boom across the center line. I quickly eased the main sheet and the sail filled with wind. Joey released the jib and let the wind push it over; then he hauled the sheets in. We were off. I looked up at the rigging. Everything seemed to be holding together just fine.

  “Nice,” Blair said, grinning at me.

  Of course, powerboats like Salty Mist can turn on a dime, without having to worry about wind direction or sails. Within thirty seconds, it was pulling alongside again. “Now what?” Blair asked.

  “Do it again,” I said grimly. “The more we move, the harder we’ll be to catch.”

  Blair nodded, and we repeated our maneuver, jibing again. Not quite as smoothly this time, but everything held together.

  Olivia appeared beside us. “They’re sending a boat, with police officers.” She stared at Salty Mist, which was once again trying to ease close alongside. “But it might take them half an hour to get here.”

  “They’re idiots if they try to do anything to us now,” Blair said, nodding at Salty Mist. “I mean, the cops know who they are, you’ve told them everything. They won’t get away with it.”

  “Yeah. But they don’t seem to be giving up, do they?” I said. I stood on the bench and yelled as loud as I could, “The cops are on their way! Give it up!”

  Victor made a rude gesture, and Salty Mist veered so close that for a moment, I thought we might collide.

  “Again,” I said. “Now.”

  Jeopardy jibed neatly, and we were heading downwind, back on a port tack. As before, Salty Mist spun around and moved in again. When I looked up, Olivia’s eyes were shiny wet.

  “Don’t worry,” I said awkwardly. I wanted to reassure her that we’d be okay but I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. “We’ll figure out something.”

  She shook her head. “It’s the abalone,” she said. “All the live abalone hanging over the side of their boat. I’d hoped it could still be returned to the water, but if they’ve been dragging it along, I bet it’s all dead.”

  We all stared at her in disbelief. “Well,” I said finally, “how about we worry about ourselves now and the abalone later? If we’re still around.”

  She nodded and brushed her eyes with the back of her hand. “What’s Patrick doing?”

  We all looked over. Patrick and Victor appeared to be arguing about something. Finally, Victor shrugged and stepped back, and Patrick took his place on the bow. “Patrick’s going to try to board us,” Olivia said. “I wonder why?”

  “Jibe again,” I said wearily. “Let’s do it.”

  We jibed again, and again, and again. I lost count of how many times we’d jibed. We were working like a team that had been together for years, each of us doing our part. Still, I didn’t know how long we could keep this up. My shoulders were aching, and the palms of my hands were raw and blistered from hauling on the sheets. And we were going to run out of sea room—Salty Mist was pushing us to one side of the channel. A few more turns and we’d run into shallower water and Jeopardy would go aground.

  Then we wouldn’t be able to get away.

  Salty Mist suddenly veered closer, and there was an awful crash. Jeopardy shuddered as the powerboat’s hull collided with its own. Joey yelled something, and there was a deafening explosion as he set off another flare. When the smoke cleared, my ears were ringing so loudly I couldn’t h
ear a thing. Salty Mist had swerved away again, and Keith was leaning over the side, checking for damage.

  Olivia pointed to our bow and yelled something I couldn’t make out.

  Then I saw Patrick, clinging to the lifelines with one arm, his body hanging over the side of Jeopardy’s hull.

  chapter twenty-one

  We all stood frozen for a minute.

  “What should we do?” Olivia whispered.

  Stamp on his fingers, I was thinking, but then Patrick let go and dropped into the water.

  “Jeez. That was close.” Blair shook his head.

  “Patrick wouldn’t have hurt us,” Olivia said.

  I looked at her. “Sometimes, Olivia, I think you’re completely nuts. He was quite content to let Victor and Keith kill us, remember?”

  She nodded impatiently. “Oh, I know, I know. But he wouldn’t do it himself.”

  A burst of static was followed by a voice over the radio: “Jeopardy, Jeopardy. This is the Coast Guard.”

  Olivia ran and picked up the microphone. “Coast Guard, this is Jeopardy.”

  I was watching Salty Mist. It was hanging back, a couple of boat lengths behind us. “What are they doing?” I wondered aloud.

  “Picking up Patrick, I guess. Here, Spacey, take the helm.” Blair grabbed the binoculars and peered through them. “Huh.”

  “What?” I held the wheel with one hand and turned to see what he was looking at.

  “Victor and Keith are both up top, on the fly bridge. It looks like...well, they’re just standing there. Not talking or doing anything.”

  Salty Mist suddenly turned away from us and, quickly picking up speed, began heading back up the channel, away from Port Hardy.

  “That’s weird,” I said slowly.

  Olivia put down the microphone. “The RCMP boat is close; they say they’re in the area. They’re just looking for us.” She turned to Joey. “Send another flare up.”

  Joey looked sheepish. “I don’t think we have anymore. Sorry.”

  I shrugged. “Looks like Salty Mist is leaving anyway. Olivia, I think they must have been listening to the VHF. Were you on channel sixteen?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. I guess they decided not to wait around for the cops.”

  We all started high-fiving each other. Then I realized something: They’d left Patrick behind.

  Olivia and I both said it at the same time: “Patrick’s still in the water.” Slowly, we all turned and stared back the way we’d come. I couldn’t see him.

  “We have to go back,” I said.

  Olivia nodded, but Joey looked at me like I was nuts. “You can’t be serious,” he protested. “Can’t he just swim until the cops get here?”

  “Spacey’s right,” Blair said reluctantly. “What if he drowned? It’d be our fault.”

  Joey snorted. “Hardly.” He looked at Olivia, and seeing her nod agreement with Blair, he sighed. “Okay, okay. We’ll go back for him.”

  I looked at the compass. “We’ve been heading northeast on a course of forty-five degrees,” I said. “So if we want to head back the way we came, that’d be...southwest... um...”

  “Two-hundred-twenty-five degrees,” Olivia said.

  I nodded. “Right. Maybe if two of us go up to the bow and watch for him?”

  Olivia and Blair nodded. “We’ll do that,” Blair said.

  Joey and I tacked quickly. I tightened the main sheet, and Joey hauled the jib in, using a winch handle for the last few turns to bring the sail taut. Jeopardy heeled over slightly and picked up speed. It was a great boat, I thought. Even with its rigging damaged, it had done everything we’d asked of it. Patrick didn’t deserve it.

  I squinted at the blue water. It wasn’t rough, but even these small waves were enough to hide a person’s head. We hadn’t taken note of our mileage when Patrick had gone overboard, and I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. “Do you think we’ve gone too far?” I asked Joey.

  “Dunno. Maybe.”

  We sailed on for a few more minutes. Blair turned and yelled from the bow, “We must have missed him! Let’s sail back and try again!”

  We were about to tack when we heard Olivia shout, “There he is! There he is!”

  I followed her pointing finger but still couldn’t see him. “To port a little,” she said. “Right there. At least, I think that’s him.”

  Something dark bobbed in the water, a few hundred feet away. It could’ve been a seal, for all I could tell, or even a half-submerged log, but I turned the wheel to port slightly and let the sails out. “You think that’s him?” I asked Joey.

  He shook his head. “Dunno.” Then he grinned. “If it is, you’d better not run him over.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” I said. I was nervous though. Getting close enough to rescue him, while avoiding actually hitting him, wasn’t going to be easy. This time there was no bright orange flag that I could use to guide the boat. I’d have to rely on Olivia and Blair, up on the bow, to help me get the boat into the right position. “Joey, get the life ring ready to toss over,” I told him.

  Joey nodded and untied the ring from the stern rail. “Ready.”

  “It’s him,” Blair yelled. “A little more to port.”

  Then I could see him. He looked frantic, like he was struggling to stay afloat, and he was screaming. I turned Jeopardy toward him, holding my breath. “You sure I’m not going to be too close?” I shouted.

  “Keep going,” Blair said. “You’re fine.”

  I didn’t think I was fine. It felt just like the time I thought I ran over Joey. Too close, too close. I hesitated, wondering whether I should listen to my own instincts or trust the others.

  Can’t count on anyone but yourself. That was what my dad always said. But I wasn’t so sure about that anymore. I gripped the wheel harder and held my course.

  “Slow down,” Blair shouted. “Ease the sheets.”

  I let out the sails, spilling the wind from them. Jeopardy flattened out, no longer heeling over to one side, and our speed started to drop. I turned into the wind, slowing us even more.

  Olivia leaned over the side of the boat. “Patrick! Are you okay?”

  “Here,” Joey yelled. “Grab this.” He tossed the life ring overboard. Up at the bow, Blair threw a coiled heaving line into the water.

  I stood on the cockpit bench, trying to spot Patrick. I heard him before I saw him. He was swearing a blue streak and choking and spluttering in the water. We drifted past him, our momentum still carrying us forward.

  Patrick splashed around, trying to swim to the life ring. “Don’t leave me!”

  “Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t,” I said, glaring at him.

  “Please. I think my leg’s broken.”

  Cry me a river, I thought. “Grab the life ring and the heaving line,” I yelled as we drifted farther away. “We’ll pull you in.”

  He started to say something but got a mouthful of salt water and started choking again.

  “Shut up and swim,” I shouted.

  Finally he grabbed the life ring and hung on while we pulled on the rope until he was alongside Jeopardy.

  “You know,” I told him, “I want my money back. Every last penny.” I heard sirens wailing and looked up just as Olivia shouted that she could see the police boat.

  An aluminum-hulled boat with a forward cabin and covered cockpit was flying over the water toward us, its blue lights flashing.

  On the open back deck, a fair-haired woman in a police uniform stood up and called out to us. “Jeopardy?”

  “Yes,” Olivia shouted back. “That’s us.”

  The boat maneuvered alongside, and the sirens cut off abruptly, leaving a sudden ringing silence in their wake. “RCMP I’m Constable Grey. Where’s the boat that was chasing you?”

  “They took off when they heard on the radio that you were close.” Olivia pointed.

  “That way. Back toward Bull Harbour.”

  The woman nodded. “All right. We’re going to come aboa
rd and get some more information from you.”

  “You’re not going after them?” I asked, disappointed.

  “We’ll need statements from all of you first.”

  An older man with a mustache switched off the engine and stood up. “Constable Hilliard,” he said. He passed me a line, and I tied it to a cleat, holding their boat to ours. Joey held out his hands to help Constable Hilliard aboard, followed by Constable Grey.

  “Umm, who’s this?” Hilliard asked, peering over the side of the boat. Patrick had suddenly become quiet when the police arrived, and Hilliard had just spotted him hanging on to his life ring a few feet away.

  “He’s one of them,” Joey said darkly.

  I tried to explain. “He owns this sailboat. He is—well, he was—our sailing instructor. But it turned out he was part of the whole abalone poaching ring, and he was on their boat. But he fell overboard and they left him, and...”

  Hilliard held up one hand. “Whoa. How about we just get him on board for now? I’ll need to get statements from all of you, but let’s take it one step at a time.”

  I nodded. I suddenly felt exhausted. “We’ve been up all night,” I said. “Sorry.”

  “Officer, I wouldn’t have hurt these kids. I mean it.” Patrick looked at me pleadingly. “Tell him, Simon. You know I wouldn’t have hurt you. I tried to help you guys get away.”

  I shrugged. “You can tell him yourself.” Part of me wanted to believe him. I’d liked him, looked up to him even. Maybe he tried to do the right thing, but I wasn’t convinced. Last night, it had sure seemed like he’d been willing to let Victor and Keith get rid of us. Standing by while we were killed might not be quite as bad as killing us himself, but from where I was standing the end result looked pretty much the same.

  chapter twenty-two

  We managed to get Patrick onboard, but he was obviously hurting. His left leg was broken and maybe some ribs too. The RCMP called the Coast Guard, who sent a boat to pick him up and take him ashore.

  “We’ll send an officer to take your statement at the hospital,” Constable Grey told him. Patrick just stared at her and didn’t say a word.