Knockdown

by Brenda Beem

  Nobody said a word. I watched the receding coastline. My heart pounded and it was hard to breathe. Doubts plagued me. I gritted my teeth. What had Dad been thinking? The Pacific Ocean is one of the roughest oceans in the world. How could Dad send us out to sea, all alone?

  Zoë moaned and leaned further over the side. Dylan scrunched his bruised nose.

  Takumi held his head in his hands.

  I took a bottle of water to Zoë and came back to the cockpit. My fingers rested on Takumi’s arm. “Your dinner was great. Really. I ate a ton and I’m fine. Your cooking didn’t make her sick.”

  “She threw up right after dinner.” He glanced at Zoë, who lay flat on her back with her eyes closed. “I think I should get rid of the leftovers.”

  Jervis’ head popped up. “What? No, don’t do that. It was good. Really good.”

  “Everyone else is fine. Leave it.” Nick leaned back into the stern seat, his arm covering his nose.

  Zoë threw up again. Dylan gagged.

  Cole held the wheel and checked the wind. “Tomorrow’s going to be a hard day. I’m not sure we should turn the gas on at all. Not a good idea to be cooking when a boat goes over. And you made a lot. We can just eat it cold.”

  “I kinda planned it that way. But that was before Zoë got sick.” Takumi shook his head.

  “Quit talking about food,” Zoë groaned.

  “I’m surprised no one got seasick before this. Believe me. It wasn’t what she ate.” Cole adjusted the steering wheel.

  Zoë gargled with the water and spit overboard. Dylan sent worried glances her way. I’d never seen him so gentle and caring.

  The boat dipped, almost head first down into the bottom of a wave. Water splashed over the bow, soaking Zoë, and entering the open hatch in the bow cabin.

  Zoë screamed, bolted to her feet, and scrambled back to the cockpit. Sliding to a stop, she leaned into Dylan, who wrapped a dirty towel around her and pulled her onto his lap. “Take me back,” she whined.

  The boat headed into another wave. We could hear dishes shift and loud crashes from the cabin below.

  Cole yelled, “Toni, make sure all the hatches are closed and nothing is bouncing around down there.”

  The boat angled sharply again, heading into another deep swell. I held on and waited for it to bottom out, then hurried to the forward hatch and pulled it closed seconds before water crashed over the bow again.

  Takumi followed me. He braced himself in the galley, duct taping the top of the big pot of steak and vegetable stir-fry he’d made for dinner. Plastic dishes rattled and clanged in the double sink. He put the pot in the refrigerator and started picking the pieces of a broken jar of soy sauce out of the sink.

  “Need help?” I stumbled and fell into him. He steadied me and we clung together while hanging onto the sink. What felt like a bolt of electricity passed between us.

  We stared wide-eyed at each other.

  Another wave hit. I seized the overhead railing and stepped away.

  This time Takumi’s face was red. “I’m going to…I’ll try to…umm, wash dishes before anything else breaks.” He turned on the hot water.

  Before I could respond, Dylan showed up and grabbed my arm. “Is there a bucket or something Zoë can use?” He made a face and began wiping vomit off his shirt with the kitchen sponge.

  “Don’t use…” I snatched the sponge away and threw it in the trash before handing him a plastic salad bowl. He sniffed his shirt, gagged again, and climbed back on top.

  Takumi reached into the trash and retrieved the sponge. “I’ll boil it. It’s the only one we have.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “It’s going to be hard to get used to not just throwing away stuff.”

  Takumi shrugged and added detergent to the hot water. He wasn’t looking at me.

  The boat headed up another wave. The water sloshed in the sink. Blankets, pillows, and seat cushions slid off the couches and onto the floor.

  Angelina stood wedged in the door frame of the girls’ cabin. She and Makala had been taking a nap.

  “What’s happening?” A look of terror crossed her face.

  “We made it to the ocean. You okay?” I asked.

  “Just scared.” She took a step forward. The boat began to dip again. We gripped the overhead railings.

  “We’re in some big swells. I’ve been in lots worse. Believe me. This is a strong boat, built for rough water.”

  Angelina glanced back at the girls’ cabin. “Can you believe Makala’s still asleep? She’s curled up in the corner of the bed, dead to the world.”

  I grimaced at her choice of words, but smiled. “That’s super. She’s a good little sailor and it will be a short night. The tsunamis should hit around two in the morning.”

  Angelina checked her cell. “Still no service. Do you think there has been any change? I mean, maybe the tsunami wore down.”

  I moved across the cabin to the instrument panel. “It wouldn’t hurt to turn on the radio and check.”

  “Oh, do you have a short wave?” Angelina peered at the panel.

  “We have this.” I pointed to the radio on the wall next to the captain’s chair and desk. Angelina made her way to the chart table and reached for the hand piece.

  I flipped the VHS breaker switch and a woman’s voice began announcing the weather. “Seas at Point No Point, two foot swells…”

  “That’s the National Weather Channel. Guess it stopped reporting the same time we lost cell service.” I took my phone out. Twelve hours since the news. We still had six hours before the tsunami would hit. I flipped to another channel.

  The next played an Emergency Broadcast System alert, which told us to evacuate coastal waters. Angelina and I glanced at each other.

  I changed the setting again, but only got static.

  “My dad had a short wave radio. Mostly he just listened to police reports, but occasionally we’d talk to people far away.”

  “Here’s the call button. Feel free to see if anyone out there knows anything.”

  Angelina squeezed the handheld mouthpiece. “This is Angelina. Come in. Anyone? Over.” She lowered her hand and listened. There was still nothing but static. She changed the setting and repeated her message.

  “Let me know if you hear anything. I’m going on deck. Takumi, I’ll be back to help you with the dishes in a minute.” Takumi nodded but still didn’t look at me. As I started up the steps, the boat dove. I held on until it crashed at the bottom of the swell and then scrambled to a seat in the cockpit.

  “Take the waves at an angle,” Dylan shouted as he held Zoë in place on the cockpit bench. “I know the wind is right on our nose. But I think we should put the sails back up and head south and west. We’ve got lots of wind and the ride would be smoother.”

  “We need to get as far west as we can. We have to be miles from the shoreline. The shortest distance is a straight line.” Cole pointed at the GPS map.

  “Yeah, but if we’re going up and over the waves instead of forward, it isn’t shorter.” Dylan held the bowl under Zoë’s chin. She dry-heaved.

  My teeth ached from the constant pounding. “Cole, we should at least try the sails and change the angle. This roller coaster stuff is miserable.”

  Cole rubbed his fingers through his hair and sighed. In no time, both sails were up and we were heading across the waves instead of directly into them. The wind was strong and the ride was smoother, although the boat was now tilted over on its side about thirty degrees.

  “How fast are we going now?” I braced myself by putting my feet on the bench. Nick and Takumi joined me. Jervis leaned on the stern railing.

  “Six-two knots. A little slower than with the engine, but we are covering ground faster. I still don’t like that we’re not going directly west.” Cole turned off the engine. “At least we’re saving gas.”

  It was suddenly quiet except for the sound of water splashing on the boat. Zoë sat up.

  “Feeling better?” Dylan asked.r />
  “No. Maybe. I don’t have anything left to throw up. I’m going below and try to sleep.”

  Dylan glanced at Cole. “I’ll help Zoë get settled below. If you don’t need me, I’ll take a couple of aspirin and rest too.” He held his nose. “When do you want to start securing the boat?”

  “What does secure the boat mean? What’s the plan for the tsunamis?” I asked.

  Takumi, Nick, and Jervis raised their heads and leaned forward. Dylan and Zoë stood to leave. Dylan tossed the contents of the bowl he was carrying overboard. Zoë wrinkled her nose.

  Cole adjusted the wheel. “The tsunami is supposed to hit around two. We should be far from the coast by then. Around 1:30 we’re going to take down the sails, screw the wheel in place so the rudder is straight, and put the boards that seal up the cabin in. We want the boat closed up as tight as we can get it.”

  “You’re both going to be down below too?” My voice sounded whiny.

  “Yeah, we’ll all go below.” Cole adjusted the wheel.

  Jervis scowled. “Then no one will be steering the boat?”

  Dylan steadied Zoë. “Sailors have been doing this for years. I told you. The boat is strong and there’s nothing out here it can run into. Even if the boat gets knocked down, it will right itself.”

  “Knocked down!” Nick shook his head.

  Cole checked the wind and boat speed. “We have to make sure the boat is as airtight as we can make it. If the boat can get pushed over on its side, or even turned upside down by the wave, it will be okay. Sail boats always right themselves as long as they don’t fill up with water.”

  “Oh. My. God!” Zoë wailed. “We will be closed in below?” She collapsed on the bench, her head in her hands. “And the boat might actually go upside down? You know I’m claustrophobic.”

  Dylan put his arm around her. “It won’t be fun, but at least we’ll survive. We just need to be out far enough that we don’t end up with the wave cresting and crashing on top of us.”

  The coast line was still visible. We had a long way to go.

  “How far is far enough?” Jervis asked.

  Cole shrugged. “I’m not sure. But we have over six hours. That should be enough time to get a safe distance.” He nodded to Dylan. “When you go below, make sure the refrigerator is off. It draws too much power without the engine on.”

  Angelina called out from the cabin below, “I got someone.”

  We strained to listen, but she spoke softly and in Spanish. Then she switched to English. “Yes, I will monitor this channel. Please call back if you hear anything. Angelina, standing by, channel one twenty-seven.”

  She appeared at the cockpit opening. “I found a guy named Ricardo in Panama. The latest news is that the tsunami is moving faster than predicted.”

  Cole stared at Dylan.

  “When is it supposed to hit?” I asked.

  “In less than five hours.” Angelina disappeared below deck.

  “Five hours?” Cole took out his cell and checked the time.

  Zoë gripped Dylan’s arm. “We can be out far enough by then, right?”

  “Sure. We’ll be fine.” He took a deep breath.

  My brothers were terrible liars.

  Chapter Ten

  Five Hours Before

  A huge swell rocked the boat. I held on tight.

  “If we only have five hours, we’re going to head straight out.” Cole turned the engine back on. “I want those sails down. Now!” He spun the boat into the wind.

  The boat went into a dive. I grabbed the dodger as I fell. Zoë groaned and stumbled to the rail.

  Dylan held her while she leaned over the boat. “A little notice would be nice!” he shouted at Cole.

  Nick dropped the main sail.

  Cole gripped the wheel and aimed Whistler into a direct westerly route. I braced my feet on the seat across from me and glanced at our speed. We were going seven and a half knots, fast for our boat.

  The sun was low on the horizon. I’d been watching the receding coastline. “How far out do we have to be?”

  “Can you see land?” Cole asked. He didn’t bother to check.

  I squinted. “Yeah.”

  “Then we aren’t out far enough.” He shoved the throttle down further. The engine roared in protest.

  “When we are getting the boat ready for a knockdown, we should take the sails off,” Cole said. “If we lose them when the tsunami hits, we’ll be totally screwed.”

  “Great idea. But how do we put them back on?” Dylan smirked and glanced around at the crew. “Anybody have any idea how to rig a sail?”

  “Don’t be a jerk, Dylan.” I glared at him.

  Zoë put her head on Dylan’s shoulder. “Just throw me overboard.”

  Dylan stroked her cheek. “It won’t do any good to take the sails off to save them, if we don’t know how to put them back on. Rigging a sail is very complicated, and if it isn’t done right, the sail is worthless.”

  “You made your point. What do you suggest?” Cole rubbed his eyes.

  “We’ll just have to tie the sails and the jib down tight and hope for the best.”

  “Hope for the best?” I put my hands on my hips. “That’s your great idea?”

  Dylan wiped drool off Zoë’s chin.

  I thought for a moment. “We have Dad’s book on rigging. Maybe we could teach ourselves.”

  My brothers shook their heads.

  I grinned up at Cole. “What about duct tape?”

  Cole chewed his lip. “Duct tape couldn’t hurt. We could tie the sails down like normal and then wrap tape around them and the boom. We can do the same for the jib.” He studied the sail and mast. “Duct tape could even secure the rigging lines to the mast. If we lose the mast or boom, saving the sails won’t matter anyway.”

  Takumi and Nick followed Cole’s eyes.

  “Are you serious? Duct tape?” Dylan sneered.

  “Beats your ‘hope for the best’ idea.” I waited for his snarky comeback.

  Dylan shrugged. “Whatever. We’re going below.”

  Zoë leaned on Dylan and they headed to the cabin. When they passed by, Cole grabbed Dylan’s shoulder.

  “I need you to have my back, bro. If you have a better idea, let’s hear it,” Cole said.

  “Sorry! I always have your back. My nose… is killing me.” Dylan gently touched his raccoon eyes. Zoë started to fall and he steadied her. “Call if you need me.”

  Cole nodded at me. “How much duct tape do we have?”

  I nudged Takumi.

  “There was a three-pack. Lots,” he said.

  Cole stepped to the side of the wheel. “Good. Let’s do it now. It will be one less thing to take care of later. Nick, you have the wheel. I need to re-fold the sail. Toni, get the tape and ask Jervis to help.”

  Soon we had the sail neatly folded and tied off. I stood on one side of the main, wrapped tape around the sail, and then handed the roll to Takumi. He did the same to his side and handed it back. Jervis and Nick stuck more of the silver tape around the jib, winding it around the wound-up sail as high as they could reach.

  Soon we looked like a boat from the land of misfit toys, but if it kept us from losing our sails, it’d be worth it.

  The ocean swells were huge. Jervis and Nick came back from the front of the boat and braced themselves in the cockpit.

  “The anchor is really bouncing. It almost fell off its holder thingy during that last dip.” Jervis pointed to the bow.

  I held on to the lifeline and moved to the front of the boat to check. I opened the hatch door where the anchor chain was attached to the boat and stored. A much smaller anchor and lots of extra chain lay in the bottom.

  “Cole, we should put the anchor away. There’s room in the locker.” I pushed the chain aside.

  “Do it.” Cole nodded.

  I waited for the boat to steady and leaned over the bow. Grabbing the anchor with one hand and holding on with the other, I raised it off its rubber holder.
I gasped. It was heavier than I expected.

  The boat slid down a steep trough. I fell, face first, towards the water, gripping the chrome rail to stop myself. I lost hold of the anchor. It bounced off its rubber frame and dangled off the bow, hanging five feet down on a heavy chain. It began to swing back and forth.

  The boat headed up the next wave. The anchor flew back and crashed into the hull.

  “Help!” I screamed and pulled on the anchor chain, hoping to move the anchor back to its holder. But it was too heavy. The anchor swung out, arched, and came rushing back.

  “No!” I screamed.

  The anchor slammed into the bow again. This time there was a sickening crunch.

  Jervis, Nick, and Takumi hurried to help me. Jervis reached down and grabbed hold of the chain with one huge hand and pulled. The muscles on his arm bulged. The anchor moved up toward the holder. The shorter the chain got, the less the anchor swayed.

  The boat slid sideways into another swell. Cole had increased the angle we were taking the waves in order to make the ride smoother. Freezing water crashed across the bow and drenched us.

  Jervis stopped hauling up the anchor and made a face. “It’s slipping.” He reached out with his other hand to grab it, but the boat rocked, and he fell against the rail. Water ran in rivulets down his face. “I can’t hold—” he bellowed as he lost his grip on the anchor chain and it dropped down again. The anchor swung back in a wide arc and rammed into the bow.

  Without a word, Takumi and Nick dropped down and slid on their stomachs to the opposite sides of the bow. They simultaneously reached down to stop the swinging anchor.

  The boat rocked to the right. The anchor swung to the right. Nick grabbed for it. The anchor pivoted on its chain. Nick jerked his hand away seconds before his fingers were smashed between the anchor and the boat.

  The anchor swung toward Takumi. I held onto his feet as he hung over the side. With both hands free, he grabbed hold of the top of the anchor. “Got it,” he called out. “Someone pull the chain in from the top.”

  When the anchor was almost up, Nick moved to the tip of the bow and grabbed hold of it from above. Soon it was back in its holder. I opened the locker. Jervis easily picked up the anchor and chain and stuffed them into it. When I closed the lid, we collapsed on the cabin deck. Spray from a wave soaked us.