by Brenda Beem
“Here.” Dylan sighed. “Try this.” He handed Jervis his racing vest.
“Thanks.” Jervis examined it.
Dylan nodded.
“Didn’t mean to break your nose.” Jervis expanded the belt and the vest fit.
“We’re good.” Dylan reached into the life jacket pile and grabbed one. Using it as a pillow, he lay back, and put the ice pack on his nose.
“Okay.” Cole gathered the leftover vests in his arms. “I’m going below to take a nap. It’s going to be a long night. Nick, you have the helm. Just follow the coast line and watch our depth.”
Cole disappeared below. Takumi and Zoë took out their cell phones. Angelina, Makala, and I basked in the late afternoon sun. A loud bark startled me. I sat up and searched the water. Up ahead a marker buoy floated, and on its small platform, a gray-faced sea lion sprawled. Another sea lion, smaller and dark brown, swam nearby.
Makala, wearing her new pink and duct tape lifejacket, scrambled from the cockpit to the side. The boat rocked and she fell to the deck.
“Makala!” Angelina screamed.
Angelina and I grabbed her by the vest. When the boat steadied, I took both the older and younger girls’ hands.
“These are life lines.” I pointed to the two rows of plastic-covered fence cords that went full-length down both sides of the boat. “When you walk around the deck, hold on to a line and pull up. It will keep you anchored.”
Angelina grabbed a line. Makala searched the water for the sea lions.
I helped Makala over to the boat’s edge and positioned her legs, one on each side of a chrome stanchion. I placed her hands on the life lines. If she fell forward, the chrome post would stop her.
“Hold on tight,” I told her.
“Like this?” She grinned and leaned way back, a firm grip on the lines.
“Perfect.” I smiled.
The brown sea lion bumped into the buoy. The spotted-faced seal started to slide off, but the platform stabilized in time. He scrambled for a better perch. The brown one barked in protest.
Makala laughed with excitement.
The brown sea lion swam around and around. Spotted Face stretched out and basked in the sun.
Jervis and Angelina came and sat beside Makala.
Takumi scooted in next to me. Did it mean something, or was it a coincidence that he always seemed to be close by? I smiled. Don’t be silly, I told myself. It’s a small boat. Where would he be and not be close to me?
Nick steered the sailboat near the buoy. The sea lions ignored us and continued their game.
Makala pinched her nose. “They stink.”
“Wait until you go past an island full of them.” I smiled. “But they’re fun to watch.”
“Sissy, look!” Makala squealed.
The wake from our boat tipped the buoy. Spotted Face skidded off the platform and splashed into the water. The brown seal waited for just the right moment and leapt.
“He made it!” Makala clapped her hands.
Spotted Face snorted. Water flew from his nose, the spray covering the victor. Spotted Face swam toward shore. The brown sea lion raised his head and barked in triumph.
Makala laughed, then pointed down at the water. “What’s that?”
Jervis followed her gaze. “That’s a peanut butter and jelly fish.”
“No, it’s not.” Makala cinched her eyebrows.
Jervis grinned. “Is too. See, there’s another one.”
Makala asked me if that’s what they were really called. I smiled and shrugged. Jervis was good for Makala. His little sisters must really miss him.
The afternoon passed slowly. Thoughts of home crept in between sightings of seals, puffins, and ‘peanut butter and jelly fish’.
We were headed toward the lighthouse at the end of the Dungeness Spit. We were close to the end of the peninsula and nearing the open ocean. I leaned back and called to Nick. “Are you watching the depth? It gets shallow between here and the lighthouse.”
He put his finger to his lips and mouthed that Dylan was asleep, then glanced down at the depth finder and quickly turned the wheel away from shore.
“Are we okay?” I stood and saw the tops of sea weed. We were really shallow.
Nick studied the instruments and nodded.
All of a sudden Makala pointed behind me and cried, “Fire!”
I raced to the stern. Billows of smoke wafted up from the water. “Smoke’s coming out of the engine.”
Nick shoved the gear into neutral.
Dylan bolted awake and ran to the wheel. The boat slowed almost to a stop. Our wake caught us and we pitched from side to side. Dylan and I grabbed the rail. A large plume of smoke floated over us.
The engine noise changed to a sputtering whirl and died.
Chapter Eight
Seven Hours Before
Cole sprang through the cabin opening. “Why are we stopped?”
“The engine light is red.” Dylan tapped the gauge.
I fanned the smoke. “There was a plume of smoke and then the motor just, just, died.”
Cole asked Nick. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. Everything was fine, but then, like Toni said, there was smoke and the engine quit.”
“Were you watching the instruments? Did you notice the engine light turning red?” Dylan coughed into his arm.
Nick’s head drooped. “I didn’t know I was supposed to. I was just doing what you said. Following the coast and trying not to get too shallow.”
Cole took a deep breath and glanced at the crew. “Has anyone been able to get cell service?”
“I just tried. There’s nothing.” Takumi patted his pocket.
“Well, try again.” Dylan glared. “We need to talk to our Dad.”
The smell of gas was overwhelming. Makala held her nose.
Cole put his hand on Dylan’s shoulder.
Cole ran his fingers through his hair. “Let’s go below and check the engine book.” He turned to me. “Keep checking your cell phones and let me know if anyone gets service. Yell if you need help.”
Dylan and Cole spoke in whispers as they climbed down into the cabin.
“You checked the gas?” Cole asked.
“Yeah, we have almost three-quarters of a tank.”
“Dylan?” I followed them to the steps.
“What about oil…?” Cole stepped aside to let Dylan pass.
“The oil light wasn’t––”
“Cole!” I yelled.
My brothers glared up at me.
“What do you want?” Dylan gritted his teeth.
“Shouldn’t we put up the sails? There’s not much wind, but…”
Cole closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair again. “You’re right. Do you need help?”
“No, we can do it.” I’d never put the sails up alone before, but I’d helped Dad plenty of times. I moved beside Nick and took over the wheel.
I glanced at the depth sounder. We were in twenty-nine feet of water. The keel or bottom of the boat was eight feet. If we got in any closer to shore than ten, we were in trouble.
Nick moved quickly to the main sail and began removing the canvas cover.
Zoë eyed the shore.
“What can I do?” Jervis asked.
“I don’t know. Ask Nick.” I aimed the boat north, into the wind.
When the cover was off, Zoë tossed it onto the cockpit floor. Nick adjusted the rigging and began pulling the main sail up. When it was halfway, he paused, breathing heavily.
“Let me do it.” Jervis grabbed the line and began to tug.
Takumi scrambled to the stern and gazed up at the top of the mast. “Just a foot more. You almost have it.”
When the sail was to the top, Nick motioned to the crew. “Everyone get back to the cockpit and duck your heads. I’m going to move the boom. Takumi, clamp the main down.”
Takumi stared blankly at him. “I don’t have a clue what you just said.”
Nic
k motioned just a minute and turned to me. “Keep the boat pointing north.” He checked the compass.
We were in twenty-five feet of water.
Takumi and I stood under the cockpit cover. I showed him a number of latches and colored lines. “These are the line locks. When they are up, you can move the sail lines. When they are down…”
“I get it.” Takumi reached and clamped down the only one that was up.
Nick held a red striped thick line. “Everyone. This is the boom line. It’s the one we use the most when we sail. It moves the main sail from one side of the boat to the other.” He handed the line to Takumi. “Open the lock and let the line out slowly, as soon as I tell you.”
“Coming about.” Nick let out the main and nodded at Takumi.
Takumi let the red striped line out and the boom swung from the center over to the left side. It was still fluttering. There wasn’t enough wind to fill it.
We were in twenty–three feet of water.
“Should we roll out the jib?” Nick asked.
“I don’t know. Check with…” I adjusted the wheel, hoping to catch more wind. The sail wasn’t filling with air. My whole body trembled.
“They’re busy. We need the jib.” Nick moved to the stern and pulled on a thin black line that unrolled the small sail in the bow. He pulled it over to the left side, and clamped it down. Now both sails were flapping in the wind.
Makala held her hands over her ears and leaned into her sister. Jervis’ brows knitted in a frown.
Zoë joined the girls in the cockpit. Their feet rested on the canvas sail cover.
I checked the instruments. The tide was stronger than the wind.
We were drifting to shore and in twenty feet of water.
“What about the spinnaker?” Nick stood with hands on his hips.
Zoë asked, “What’s a spinnaker?”
“It’s the pretty colored sail you see in pictures.” I thought for a moment. “It’s in the v-berth. I don’t know how to raise it. Do you?” I asked Nick.
He shook his head.
We were in eighteen feet of water.
A sailboat approached from the east. It was coming to a marina we had just passed.
I climbed up on the seat behind me. “Help!” I called when they were close enough to hear. “Our engine is broken. Over here!”
The others joined me. We waved and called out. The boat changed course, away from us.
Jervis swung Makala up onto his shoulders. She giggled and waved her arms at the passing boat. We continued to yell and wave. All of a sudden Makala stopped waving. She started to listen to our hails.
Zoë screamed, “Help! We’re in trouble!”
Makala’s face crumbled, she reached for her sister, and wailed. Jervis swung her off his shoulders and handed her back to Angelina.
The sailboat motored away. A woman onboard watched us. The man behind the wheel never glanced our way.
“Right! What goes around—” Jervis muttered.
Makala was hysterical. “Mommy. I want Mommy.”
We were in fifteen feet of water. I wanted my mommy too.
Angelina tried to reassure Makala, but the little girl squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered.
Jervis put his arm behind Angelina.
Nick joined Zoë on the bench across from the girls and Jervis. “Makala, do you want to play Angry Birds?”
Makala hid her face in Angelina’s shoulder.
Angelina shook her head and tried to grin. “She’s just tired.” She cuddled and rocked her sister.
Jervis glared at Nick.
“What?” Nick mouthed.
We were in fourteen feet of water. I listened to Makala’s muffled sobs and watched the shore rapidly approach. “Takumi, get my brothers. I’m out of ideas.”
We were in twelve feet of water. It was getting shallow fast.
Takumi moved toward the cabin, then stopped, and swung around. “What about the anchor?”
“The anchor?”
“Yeah, couldn’t we stop it from going ashore by dropping the anchor?”
I squealed. “You’re brilliant. I don’t know why we didn’t think of it.”
Takumi grinned.
“Nick? Do you know how to drop the anchor?” We were in eleven feet of water. He ran to the bow. The sound of the anchor and chain dropping brought my brothers up onto the deck.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dylan screamed.
Nick ignored him and concentrated on counting the red marks on the chain as it disappeared into the sea.
“I’m putting out twenty-five feet of chain,” Nick yelled.
There was some formula my dad told me. So many feet let out for each foot of depth. But I couldn’t remember what it was.
We were in nine feet of water. We’d hit bottom soon.
“We didn’t know what else to do. There wasn’t enough wind and the tide was taking us in,” I said.
The anchor grabbed the bottom and the boat shuddered. We slowly drifted back to where Nick dropped the anchor and eleven feet of water.
“Good thinking, Toni.” Cole took the wheel.
“It was Takumi’s idea.”
Dylan and Cole stopped and stared at Takumi.
Takumi shrugged.
The sails still made a racket. “You should have checked with us first,” Dylan muttered as he pulled in the main.
“It got shallow fast.” I glared at him.
“You bought us time.” Cole tightened the flapping jib. “We read through the book and checked the engine, but we still don’t know what made it overheat.” He glanced around. “Has anyone gotten cell service?”
We pulled out our cells. No service.
“Nick, go below and bring up the engine book. We need to figure this out.” Cole tightened the knob that locked the steering wheel and rudder in place.
“What might make an engine overheat?” Zoë asked.
“Honey, I don’t think you …” Dylan began.
Zoë scowled.
I glared at Dylan. “Cole said we need to work together to get through this. So let’s work together.” I faced the others. “Okay, guys. What makes an engine overheat?”
Jervis sat up. “Is the engine out of oil?”
“No, we found the dip stick. It has oil.” Cole nodded at the instrument panel. The engine had cooled and the light had gone to green.
“Maybe it fixed itself?” Angelina said.
“I wish,” I mumbled.
“If a radiator is out of water, the engine will overheat,” Jervis said.
Cole’s face was flushed. “We couldn’t find a radiator.”
Zoë looked thoughtful. “So a radiator holds water that cools an engine. But you couldn’t find a radiator. Maybe because it’s a boat engine? Maybe it uses the water it sits on somehow.”
“Yeah. Some kind of pump that takes water from the sea to cool the engine.” I was getting hopeful.
Nick showed up with the book.
Cole took it from him and thumbed to the index. “Water intake.” He flipped the pages.
I opened the deck table and everyone but Makala and Angelina stood staring down at the book. Makala sniffled. Takumi put his finger on a diagram.
Zoë began to read out loud. ”The filter should be examined and emptied often. If fish or other debris are sucked up, it can stop the water flow and the engine will overheat.” She pointed at the passage she’d read. “Did you guys check the filter?”
“We didn’t know there was one.” Dylan squinted at Cole.
I stayed on deck with Takumi, Angelina, and Makala. The rest went below to find a filter.
A short while later Zoë brought up a small wire basket full of greenish-black goo. ”Got it. It’s full of cooked seaweed.” She cleaned out the basket, throwing the stuff overboard. “Jervis found the filter. Men and motors… complicated things.” She raised her eyebrows and went below.
What was that all about, I wondered as she disappeared. I shrugged
and continued my silent prayer asking for the engine to start. My shaking had stopped but I’d started staring at the shoreline and wondering how long it would take us to row ashore and climb up the Olympic Mountains.
The group assembled on deck.
“Okay, cross your fingers.” Cole put in the key. The engine rumbled, belched smoke, and died.
“Give it a minute. Maybe it has to re-suck up water,” I suggested.
Cole wiggled the gearshift, making sure it was out of gear. He turned the key again. It sputtered twice and stopped. Jaws tight, he tried the key a third time. The engine coughed and more smoke bellowed. Just when we thought it was going to fail again, the engine roared to life.
The crew stood. Smiles broke out on some faces. Others closed their eyes and sighed with relief.
Nick yelled, “All right!”
Zoë gazed longingly at the shore.
Makala stopped whimpering and put her thumb in her mouth.
“We’re going to be okay, baby.” Angelina kissed her sister’s forehead and smiled shyly at Nick.
Jervis moved beside Angelina and started to put his arm around her. Makala reached out to him, so he picked her up instead. The little girl wrapped her arms around his neck.
Cole raised his head. “Good job, everyone.” His voice choked with emotion. I hugged him. He pointed to the water spurting out of a small chrome pipe off the stern. He trembled as we stood together watching the clear engine exhaust.
Dylan checked his cell. “Let’s get going. We lost almost an hour.”
What a downer.
Chapter Nine
Six Hours Before
Zoë was sick. She lay on the side of the boat’s forward decking, her head hanging over the water. The sun was low in the sky and the wind gentle. Except for the occasional groan and whiff of vomit, it was a lovely night.
We passed by the city of Port Angeles, the last town on the coast of the Straits of Juan de Fuca. There was no sign of life in the deserted city. Soon, there would be no more towns and no more green trees.
We were almost to the ocean. Gentle swells rocked the boat, growing deeper and deeper the farther from land we got.
“Race Rocks.” Cole pointed toward a group of rocks we were passing. “That’s the point we sail around during the Swift Sure Race from Victoria. We are now officially in the Pacific Ocean.”