Paul looked just as shocked to see them, as they were to see him. “Skeeter! Non, non! Monnonk—”
“Gason! Vini! Paul!” his uncle shouted from the yacht. Paul cast a frightened look at his uncle, and then glanced at his American friends. They could see fear and despair in that one brief look into his eyes. Skeeter reached out to the boy, but Paul suddenly turned his back on them and leaped for the side of the yacht. He nearly missed and for a moment he hung above the churning water below. Finally, though, he swung his leg over and scrambled aboard, falling into a heap on the deck. His uncle yanked him to his feet, screaming in Kréyòl at him.
The engines of the yacht started up just then and the big boat moved slowly away. They could see one of the pirates in the cabin with Stanley. He pushed the frightened young man away and took over the wheel. The yacht picked up speed. Huge swells from its wake joined the ocean’s angry waves in tossing the battered old fishing boat about.
The Camerons huddled together, pulling their friends in with them, and hugging one another. They watched as the beautiful yacht got smaller and smaller in the distance until finally the waves and gathering clouds hid it from view. They were in trouble still, but at least the pirates and their guns were gone, and none of them had been hurt.
“Our Father,” Steve began to pray aloud, “thank You for rescuing us from those evil men. We praise You for Your protection and mercy toward us. We pray right now that You will help Stanley, and send your angels to guard him. And we especially pray for Paul, Father, for we sense that his uncle is forcing him to be a part of this gang. We ask that You would save him from them, as well. Finally, Lord, You know we are in bad trouble ourselves, on the ocean, in a wreck of a boat in the middle of a storm. Lord, if ever we needed You to calm the sea and rescue us, it is now, so we trust You and ask You for Your help. In Jesus’ precious name we pray, Amen.”
When they lifted their heads they were being sprayed just as badly from the crashing waves, and now rain was falling in sheets, as well. The rusted canopy of the boat did little to protect them from being drenched. They were soaked and shivering as the wind drove the water into their faces.
The first thing Steve did was try to start the engine, but when nothing happened he shook his head in frustration. “Pete,” Steve shouted above the wind, “you take the wheel and try to hold us steady. Without the engine there’s not much we can do, but try to keep us headed into the wind, not broadside of it. Dan, come with me. Let’s drop the anchor and then see if we can do anything about that engine. Skeeter, take your mom and the girls below, out of this storm.”
Rachel shook her head. “No, Steve, I need to do something. What can I do to help?”
“Okay, go with Pete and help him hold the wheel. It’s going to be hard in this storm. And check the radio. See if you can raise somebody on it.”
Steve and Dan raised the hatch to the engine compartment and lowered themselves into the tiny, dark, stinky space. Pete and Rachel turned to the wheel. Steve was right. Even with both of them clinging to it, it was difficult to keep the boat from simply spinning helplessly in the wind and waves. Rachel tried the radio. It wasn’t dead, but there was nothing but static and hissing coming from the speaker. She searched in vain for a good frequency and cried “Mayday! Mayday!” over and over into the microphone. There was nothing. They were alone on the raging sea.
The cabin below was dark and smelly, too—not like the stink of oil and dirty sea water, as in the engine compartment, but like unwashed bodies, dead fish and stale smoke. Skeeter and the girls gagged at first, and then Kristi really did get sick. The stench was just too much on top of the tossing and bucking of the tiny boat in the angry sea. She ran for a bucket and reached it just in time.
To her surprise, as soon as she was through being sick, she started feeling much better. She looked around the dark, stuffy, dismal cabin of the boat and said, “Okay, what can we do to help? The first thing, I guess, is to try to get everyone warm and dry. Let’s look around and try to find some towels or something clean, at least, for people to dry off with. Those guys seemed to be a filthy bunch, so good luck! Look for anything else, too, that might be a help to us—food, whatever…”
Kristi’s orders seemed to shake everyone out of their stupor. They were tripping over one another in the small space, and there really weren’t that many places to look, but they opened each cupboard and bin and carefully looked through them.
Most of them yielded nothing but old fishing equipment, rusted tools, and odds and ends. Anna found some cans of soup, a couple bags of rice, beans and sugar, a few jugs of water and a canister of coffee in a cupboard over a small rusted cooktop. There were several old, dirty and torn rain slickers in one bin near the door. Another bin held some rotting fruit. Kristi almost barfed again when she opened it and the smell hit her in the face.
Finally, Robin called from a dark corner, “Hey guys, look at this.” A battered trunk sat covered in dust, apparently long forgotten. Its metal straps, and the clasp and hinges were rusted. It looked like it hadn’t been opened in years. Fortunately, there was no lock on it, but they struggled to lift the lid nonetheless.
The old trunk turned out to be a treasure chest. How it ever got to be on the old fishing boat, they would never know, but now it seemed to be a treasure sent from heaven above, and worth its weight in gold! The shivering teenagers stared in amazement at the trunk full of beautiful old quilts, and knew they were looking at a small miracle.
Kristi lifted the top quilt from the trunk. It was soft, and smelled of cedar, like the lining of the trunk. There was not a hint of mildew or mold, and it looked as if it had never been touched by the filthy pirates. In fact, all the quilts appeared to be in the same beautiful condition that they had been in when they were lovingly folded and placed in the trunk many years before. How could that be?
They carefully went through the stack of colorful comforters. There were nine quilts—just enough for all of them, with one to spare. It was if the Lord had placed that gift there, just for them and waiting to be found. It was the last thing they would have ever expected to be on the nasty old fishing boat.
They each picked out a quilt and wrapped themselves in them. Warmth spread over their bodies immediately and they relaxed for a moment in their cozy cocoons. Kristi suddenly said, “We need to get these out to the others. If they put a rain slicker over them, that will keep them dry.” She picked out two for her mother and Pete, and threw a couple slickers over them. “Skeeter, come with me. I might need help out there,” she said. They left their own quilts inside and went up the steps to the hatch.
As soon as they opened the hatch, they were deluged with sheets of water. Skeeter ran forward and grabbed his mother’s arm. He pointed to Kristi who had hung back, trying to keep the quilts dry, and took the wheel from Rachel. Rachel hurried back to her daughter. She stared in awe at the bundle in Kristi’s arms, but didn’t stop to ask questions. Rachel was soon wrapped in one of the warm quilts, and then covered with a slicker. She smiled and kissed Kristi’s forehead, and then slipped and slid back to the wheel. She took over for Pete as he went to claim his own quilt and slicker. “Thanks!” he yelled over the wind as he ran to take the wheel from Skeeter.
Kristi glanced over the edge of the boat at the raging storm as she and Skeeter hurried back to the hatch to go below. It didn’t show any signs of letting up. If anything, it was worse than before. She was shivering again, but she grabbed two more quilts and headed back outdoors to take them to her dad and Dan.
Skeeter was just in front of her when suddenly he stopped and she ran into his back. Her father and Dan were crawling out of the engine compartment. They were covered in dirt and grease, and Steve looked grim. “Did you get it fixed?” Skeeter yelled.
His dad shook his head and then yelled back, “Where did those come from?”
Kristi held out one of the quilts to him and shouted, “We’ll tell you about it later!”
Steve shook his head and held up his
black, greasy hands. “Let me wash first before I touch it!” he yelled. He and Dan followed Kristi and Skeeter back down to the cabin. They quickly wiped their hands and faces on some old rags. Kristi explained about the quilts while they bundled up, and they agreed the trunk was a gift from the Lord. Then they were back out the door again to relieve Rachel and Pete at the wheel.
Kristi had been so busy over the last hour she had scarcely given her queasy stomach a thought, but now as her mother came down the steps into the cabin, it all came flooding back. She sat down suddenly. Her knees were weak and her hands were shaking.
“Kristi, are you okay?” Rachel asked in concern as she peeled off her rain slicker.
“Sure.” Kristi tried to smile. “You sit down, Mom. You must be exhausted.”
“I am,” Rachel admitted. “Pete did most of the work, though. I was just his helper.”
Pete smiled, a bit embarrassed. “You did great, Mrs. Cameron.”
“Did you get anyone on the radio, Mom?” Skeeter asked.
She shook her head. “No, and it looks as if this storm is going to last a while. I just pray we can ride it out. This old boat seems to look worse than it actually is, though. I didn’t think we could last as long as we have!”
The words had hardly left her mouth when Anna suddenly said, “Oh-oh! Look at that!”
A stream of water was snaking across the floor. There was a leak somewhere and they were taking on water! They stared as the telltale puddle grew wider and then looked at one another. Pete grabbed his slicker and said, “I’ll go get Mr. Cameron.” He was up the steps in a flash.
Steve was down there a minute later. By that time the puddle had doubled in size. He pulled an old crate away from the wall and they watched as water came bubbling up through the floorboards. Steve snatched one of the rain slickers and tossed it over the leak. He moved the crate and several other bins on top of it then, and shook his head. “I don’t think that will stop it, but maybe it will slow it down a bit. So far it’s just a slow leak. Just pray it doesn’t get any bigger.”
They did pray. Steve went back out into the storm, but the others sat in the gloomy, smelly cabin and prayed. Kristi was huddled in her quilt, feeling miserable and afraid, but as she prayed a calmness came over her and she was comforted. Jesus was the master of the storm. He had calmed the sea before, He could do so again. And though the boat was rocked by the surging waves, she closed her eyes and thought of it as being rocked in the hands of the Lord.
Darkness had fallen outside. Dan tried to peer through the twilight and the rain but he couldn’t see a thing. He and his dad had struggled with the wheel, taking turns praying aloud. It seemed as if perhaps the wind had died down just a bit. He glanced at his watch. He was shocked to see it had only been three hours since they had been forced aboard the decrepit old boat by the pirates. Those three hours had seemed more like three days!
Suddenly there was a grinding, scraping noise and the boat was jarred to a halt. Dan was thrown against the wheel. All was still after the constant bucking and heaving of the past hours, although the storm still raged around them.
Down below, everyone was thrown from the crates and benches they were sitting on. The puddle on the floor suddenly grew wider and water began to pour in from under the crates and bins. They sat in a jumbled heap for a stunned moment and then leaped to their feet. “What happened? Ow! We’re taking on more water!” they cried in a small panic.
A sudden realization hit them. They were shipwrecked!
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CHAPTER TEN
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Buccaneer Bay
Kristi held her breath. No one moved. The boat groaned and shuddered a bit under the crashing of the waves. Suddenly there was one last lurch, and then the battered craft settled down and held fast to whatever it had lodged against. The stillness was a blessed relief after the hours of being tossed about, but now they looked with dismay at the water that was beginning to cover the floor. That last lurch of the boat had seemed to somehow cut off the quick flow of the water, but it was still creeping up little by little. Were they about to be flooded out of their only shelter from the storm?
Steve and Dan came down the steps into the cabin just then. They looked awful. They were wet and shivering and exhausted from their ordeal at the wheel. Steve looked at the water on the floor and shook his head. “I don’t know what we hit, but we seem to be pretty firmly grounded on it. It’s too dark to see. We’re taking in more water, though, I see. Well, at least it’s not gushing in. As long as we don’t break free and start drifting again, we don’t have to worry about sinking.”
“Here, Honey, sit down and rest. You too, Dan. Give me those wet things and cuddle up in these dry quilts. Weren’t they a wonderful gift from God?” Rachel said as she took care of her men.
“Now that we’re not being thrown around, do you think it would be safe to heat up some soup and coffee, Mom?” Kristi asked. “It would help warm everybody up.”
“That’s a good idea, Kristi. Pete, could you help her get those cans open? I’ll try lighting the cooktop. Robyn and Anna, you see if you can find a clean pot and some bowls or cups. If they’re not clean, you’ll have to wash them. Skeeter, there’s an old coffee pot over there. Would you scrub that out for me, please? Thanks.”
For once Skeeter didn’t mention how hungry he was. They were all hungry, he knew, and there was not much food for all of them. They would just have to tighten their belts and make do with what they had. Everyone was soon busy getting the small supper ready, and for a time they almost forgot about the storm still raging outside. Their only light was a pair of kerosene lanterns, but it helped to make the cramped, dirty cabin seem almost cozy.
Rachel had just served up the soup and they were bowing their heads to ask God’s blessing on their simple meal when suddenly they heard a sound at the door of the cabin. They all looked up. “Did you hear something?” Skeeter asked. Before anyone could answer they heard it again. Someone was knocking at the door.
They couldn’t believe their ears. Who could be outside their door in the middle of a storm, on a shipwrecked boat, who knows where in the middle of the ocean? Was it someone come to rescue them? Had the pirates returned? The three girls clutched each other and turned startled eyes toward the hatch.
Steve got up and grabbed a big old rusty wrench out of a tool box for a weapon—just in case. He went to the door and threw it open. There was no team of rescuers. It wasn’t the pirates. It was Paul, wet and shivering and looking scared to death.
Skeeter leaped to his feet. “Paul! What are you doing here? How did you get here? Come in out of the storm!” He grabbed his friend by the arm and dragged him into the cabin.
Paul couldn’t even speak at first. His teeth were chattering and he was shivering violently. Rachel took off her own quilt and threw it around the boy. She thrust her mug of soup into his hands and helped him hold it steady enough to drink. When that was gone, Steve offered his, and Paul drank that, as well.
Finally when his shivering had slowed and he looked as if he were warming up, Steve asked him again, “Paul, where did you come from? How did you get here?”
“I been here. Hide in de tackle box on de deck. When monnonk an’ his friends go off in de gran bato, de big boat, I jump for dis bato—an’ mwen zanmis ameriken, my American friends. I miss de bato, an’ fall in dlo, de water, but a big wave, it throw me against de bato an’ I grab hold. I climb on de bato an’ hide.”
“Why did you hide, Paul?” Skeeter asked. “Why didn’t you come to us for help?”
“I efreye, afraid, monnonk come back. He be fache, angry, an’ he an’ his zanmis hurt you if you help me. He hurt me, too. An’ I efreye you fache wit’ me, too, an’ no like me no more.” Paul hung his head.
“Not like you? Why would we not like you, Paul? You’re our friend,” Skeeter said.
“I wit’ de pirates, de bad guys.”
“No,” Steve shook his head. “We knew you weren’
t one of the bad guys, Paul. We could see your uncle was forcing you to stay with him. We wanted to help, but didn’t know how.”
Paul looked up with hope in his eyes. Skeeter added, “Well, you’re with us now, Paul. You’re safe. Well, at least as safe as we are. We’re praying God will rescue us soon, and then I know my mom and dad will do whatever they can to help you.”
Rachel quickly heated up the last of the soup and they finally bowed to pray again. “Father, thank you for bringing Paul back to us. He’s in trouble and so are we, and we need Your help. We are trusting You to save us. Thank you for this food, also, and for all Your care for us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Paul looked around at the group of kind Americans who prayed so easily to their ‘Father’. For the first time in a long time he felt safe—even on a shipwrecked boat in the middle of a storm.
They tried to get some sleep that night. It was a far cry from their paradise in the trees back on St. Lucia, but most of them were so exhausted they slept anyway. Kristi woke several times, and each time it seemed as if the storm was weakening, until finally all she could hear was the slight patter of rain drops above them.
Steve was the first to awaken in the morning. Light was filtering through the dirty panes of the small portholes in the cabin. He stood up, and that small movement woke the others. They stretched and groaned, trying to get the kinks out of their muscles after sleeping sitting up in the cramped quarters. Finally Steve opened the door of the cabin and they filed up the steps.
The sun was shining brightly. All signs of the storm were gone. The water was calm, almost flat, and lapped gently at the sides of the boat. They were wedged between several large boulders sticking up out of the water.
The sunshine and calm waters were a welcome sight, but it was something else that had them all clapping and cheering! Not fifty feet away was land! A tiny islet rose out of the sea. They could see, even from where they stood on the deck of the boat, that it was small, not even big enough for some rich person to buy and build a mansion on it. It was narrow, and oddly-shaped—almost like a horseshoe. A cove separated the two sides of the islet, and that was where their boat had come to rest—at the entrance to the cove.
The Secret of Buccaneer Bay (Kristi Cameron Book 5) Page 8