11

 

When Lou woke, Staci was sleepy but opened her eyes. As Lou dressed, Deefer ran into the room and licked her hand in greeting. Lou made a fuss of him. Then, she went to find Jim.

“Morning.”

“Hi. Sleep well?”

“Eventually.”

Jim handed her a mug of tea and a bacon sandwich. “I was going to bring this down to you, but seeing as how you’re up now...”

“Thanks.” She took them over to the table. “Staci’s awake this morning. Do you want me to contact someone today, or would you still rather we don’t in case they make us turn ourselves in?”

Jim sat down and looked at her. “I’ve been thinking about that. I can see your point. This is my sister’s life we’re talking about. I have to put the needs of my crew before my own. Any of my crew—including you. And yes, I would make the same decision if it was you down there.”

“Did I really accuse you of not doing that?”

Jim nodded. “We both said and did a lot we shouldn’t have done yesterday.”

“A new day today,” Lou told him. “Let’s start over.”

“If Staci is awake, though, maybe we leave it for now. And maybe she is best out of it today anyway.”

“Why?” Lou asked with her mouth full.

“It’s July seventh. Mum’s birthday.”

“Oh, Jim, I hadn’t realized. Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Better go back to the bridge.”

“I’ll be up in a bit.”

She picked up the box of cleaning stuff and went outside.

Once the polishing was done, Lou pulled out the yard broom, and began to sweep the decks. This was really tomorrow’s task, but if they got rain today, it needed to be done now.

She took down the washing, returned inside and checked Staci.

Her breathing seemed different somehow. Deeper and steadier, more like she was asleep than anything else.

Lou scribbled it in the notebook and then went up to the galley to start lunch. She dug out Staci’s soup recipe. OK, she decided, testing it half an hour later, it wasn’t as nice as Staci’s, but it was food.

She called Jim down and together they ate in silence. “That was nice. Thanks,” Jim said when he finished.

“Not as nice as Staci’s though.”

“She’s had more practice. I might go to bed for a bit if that’s all right. I feel really tired all of a sudden.”

“That’s fine. How’s the weather doing?”

“Erika’s kicking up a stink three hundred miles away. Here it’s OK.”

“Sleep well. See you later.”

Leaving Jim, Lou took her shift. She disengaged the autopilot and steered manually for a while, intently watching the sky. It was changing. Changing as she watched. She put the autopilot back on and increased speed slightly. Initially the sky was blue, with hardly a cloud in the sky--just a few high swirls. Then it started to cloud over, slowly at first, grey with a green tinge which got darker as the clouds piled up threateningly.

The wind picked up. The gentle breeze became stronger and rougher. Just after three, she hit the intercom. “Jim? Can you put the sail and mast down and top up the fuel tanks?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Lou heard Jim wrestle with the sail in the rising wind. Then the mast landed on the roof with a thud. As he came onto the bridge, the cloud cover became total, plunging them into darkness.

Dark green-black clouds hung above the ocean, threatening, menacing, and waiting to unleash themselves on an unsuspecting world.

Jim flipped on the bridge lights. Then he put on the running lights and mast lights. “I don’t like the look of this.”

Lou said, “Nor me. What do we do?”

“Keep sailing. It’s best to just try to ride the storm out. I don’t understand though, it should have missed us.”

The printer clattered into action again and spat out another weather warning. Jim grabbed it and checked it against the chart. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“Erika’s changed course. She’s headed right for us.”

Lou glanced out of the window. As she did so, a jagged flash of lightning tore the sky in two and the first few heavy drops of rain fell onto the deck. Thunder rolled in the distance.

“Here she comes,” Jim said. “You’d better let me take over. After all, I am the Captain.”

Jim took the wheel from her as another flash of lightning ripped the sky apart.

Lou glared, but he didn’t back down.

“Lou, I’m not going to argue now. You have a complaint, then put it in the log.” Thunder rolled again, closer now, and the wind began to howl. “She’s my ship. Just go and batten down the hatches.”

Deefer came hurtling onto the bridge, barking loudly. He buried his nose in Lou’s hand and worried it.

She knelt down and stroked him firmly. “It’s all right boy. Let’s go find Staci.”

The rain thudded and the boat rocked as the leading edge of the violent storm hit them. “I’ll get out of your hair,” Lou said. “If you need me, then shout.”

Jim nodded and glanced at the readouts.

Pressure was still dropping. Lightning flashed and the thunder followed less than six seconds later.

The boat rocked again, sending all the cups on the side to the floor.

Lou picked them up and put them in the cupboards. She fastened the storm catches, which prevented the cupboards from opening when the boat rolled.

Deefer howled and crept below Lou’s bed.

Lou hauled herself into the cabin, over to Staci’s bunk and strapped her in. The cut was bleeding again, so wedging herself to keep balanced, Lou fastened another bandage on top of the original one.

 

~*~

 

On the bridge Jim tried to keep Avon on course or at least heading the right way. Not knowing what experienced captains would do, he was reluctant to use the autopilot in case he needed to change course quickly. The wind hit with such force that Avon lurched, first one side touching the water, then the other.

The waves, Jim realized with horror, were as tall as Avon herself - if not taller. Wave after wave towered above the little boat, crashing onto her with resounding thuds, jarring already stressed timbers as they hit with enough force to severely damage the boat several times over. They rattled against the windowpanes, seemingly in direct competition with the rain.

Lightning flashed and the thunder answered almost immediately.

Jim struggled to keep control as they plunged from the dizzy heights of heaven to the bottomless pits of hell.

Avon rolled and tossed and turned.

Jim swallowed, desperately trying not to be sick. Then he thought he was hearing things as a voice filled the boat, singing the sailor’s hymn by William Whiting. Jim recognized the voice as Staci’s, but not Staci’s.

“Eternal Father, strong to save, whose arm hath bound the restless wave. Who bidd’st the mighty ocean deep its own appointed limits keep: O hear us when we cry to Thee for those in peril on the sea.”

“Do you hear that?” Lou pulled herself up the steps to the bridge.

Before Jim had chance to answer the boat rocked under the impact of a huge wave and for several horrifying moments, Avon was completely submerged.

Lou grabbed onto the rail for support.

Jim clung to the wheel, desperately trying to bring the boat round. He swallowed several times, and as Avon finally surfaced, he sighed with relief. “Yes I did,” he said, answering Lou’s question. “Was it Staci?”

“No, she’s still out of it. It wasn’t me, either.” She looked at Jim closely. “You look like death warmed up. Are you OK?”

“Not really,” Jim admitted.

Lou grabbed the wheel. “Let me take over for a while,” she said firmly. “I may only be a girl, but I can sail and I don’t get seasick.”

Jim released the wheel. He was immediately knocked off his feet as Avon heaved over another gigantic wave. “I’ll be below,” Jim said. “Where’s Deefer?”

“Under my bed,” Lou replied not daring to take her eyes off what she was doing. “What heading, Jim?”

Lightning rent the sky in two, and as Jim replied the thunder drowned out his words.

“West,” he repeated. “Or as near as possible.”

As he disappeared below decks, the wind changed direction abruptly, throwing Avon to one side and tossing rain violently against the windows.

Lou lost her grip on the wheel and hit her head on the chart table before she could stop the fall. She felt her senses start to slide.

Lightning flashed, lighting the sky and surrounding sea.

Lou shook her head to clear it. What was that black thing ahead? She groped her way back across the sloping deck, reached out, and managed to grab hold of the wheel. Pulling herself up, Lou peered through the window into the murky blackness, wishing for lightning to illuminate the sea. Rain drummed relentlessly against the windows, blurring what little vision she did have. A sudden inspiration hit her, and she put the search light on.

Nothing happened. Apparently it was damaged.

Lou clung to the wheel, bracing herself for the impact as a wave lifted Avon. The boat landed with a jarring thud, plunging well below the surface of the sea. It seemed like an eternity until they surfaced. Something creaked ominously and one of the windows shattered, sending glass flying around the bridge. Sheet lightning illuminated the sky and surrounding sea for several seconds.

Just long enough for Lou to see what the black object in their path was.

It was another ship…or was it? How many old fashioned galleons were there these days?

Rain poured in through the broken window, pooling on the bridge floor. The proximity alarm went off.

She cancelled it and manhandled the wheel to port. Avon turned slowly, too slowly. “Come on.” Lou said. “Your name isn’t Titanic. Turn.”

Avon still wouldn’t respond.

“I can’t turn fast enough. I’ll have to increase engine power.” She pulled the lever marked warp engine but instead of increasing speed, the engine sputtered and died completely. “No.”

She tried restarting them again and again, but still nothing. The proximity alarm went off again. “I know.” Hitting the intercom button she shouted, “Jim. I need you.” She used all her weight to pull on the wheel--willing the boat to turn.

Jim struggled onto the bridge. “What’s wrong?” he asked, slipping on the wet floor.

“There’s something out there. Another ship, I think. We’re on a collision course. She won’t turn quick enough.”

“Search light?”

“Broken.”

“Engines?”

“Off line.”

“OK, then. Elbow grease.” Jim grabbed hold of the wheel and he and Lou pulled together. It stubbornly refused to move.

Lightning flashed again, and Jim saw the huge ship bearing down on them. “What is that?” he gasped.

“I don’t know, but it’s big and coming right at us...”

Thunder drowned the rest of her reply as they both pulled the wheel with all their might. It began to turn and Avon slowly responded. Lightning flashed showing the strange ship almost on top of them.

“It’s no good,” Lou cried. “It’s going to hit us.”

Just then, the boat rocked under the impact of a huge wave and was pushed violently to port.

Jim and Lou watched as the huge ship passed them by, missing them by half a meter. They had seen nothing like it except in books.

The ship, or galleon, seemed deserted with no lights anywhere to be seen, sails torn and flapping wildly in the wind.

Jim grabbed the camera and struggling to the broken window began snapping pictures as quickly as the flash would let him. Lightning flashed again, not so violently this time, and the thunder answered more faintly.

Jim came back across to Lou. “Storm’s easing off,” he said. “Not before time either. It’s almost ten.”

Suddenly the wind dropped and the sea calmed. The rain stopped and the sudden silence was deafening.

“This is no easing off,” Lou said slowly. “It’s the eye of the storm.”

“The what?” Jim asked.

“Eye of the storm. The center part. We have twenty minutes at the most before we get the other side of it. And if you thought that was bad—you ain’t seen nothing yet, mate.” Lou looked at him. “Try to get the engines going. I’m going to board up that window. You’d better take some seasickness pills, too.”

“OK. Will you check topside while you’re there?”

“Yeah.”

“You know I was seriously considering throwing someone overboard,” Jim said as Lou opened the door.

“Why?”

“To stop the storm. They did that to Jonah. He was running away too and...”

“I know the story. But if anyone is going overboard it’s not me.” She grinned at him. “Come on. We have a lot to do and very little time before Erika comes back for round two.”

While Jim headed below to get the engines working, Lou went outside and fastened a piece of wood across the broken window. She did a tour of the deck. The VHF antenna looked OK, but the mast was badly damaged. She went back inside and just as she shut the door, the wind returned with a vengeance.

Rain poured down in torrents and thunder rolled in the distance.

“Try the engines, Lou,” Jim said from the intercom.

Lou tried starting them. “Nothing,” she answered.

After a few minutes Jim said, “Try now.”

Lou tried the engines again and one finally spluttered into life. She opened the throttle and Avon struggled forwards.

The wind had changed direction and was now blowing towards them.

Jim came up onto the bridge. “One engine’s had it. I’ve got the other one working after a fashion.” He grabbed hold of the rail as Avon dropped off the top of a wave. Lightning flashed and thunder roared almost simultaneously. “I’ll stay here,” he yelled over the howling wind.

Lou nodded. She wouldn’t argue; right now she was just glad she wasn’t alone.

For the next few hours Avon was tossed on the ocean, battered by much stronger winds, and beaten by driving rain.

On the bridge, Jim and Lou hung on grimly, battling to keep the boat afloat and on course.

Suddenly lightning illuminated a huge wall of water to the starboard side of them.

Thirty feet high and as wide as they could see, there was no way to avoid it.

“Jim?”

“Help me. We have to turn into it.” Jim pulled at the wheel.

Together they turned Avon towards the gigantic advancing wave, with seconds to spare. Avon began to climb the huge wall of water, but was barely half way when the engine failed and she slid backwards and turned over. The board came loose from the window and water poured onto the bridge.

Lou screamed.

She and Jim were thrown against the wall, ceiling, wall, and then the floor.

Avon righted herself just as the leading edge of the wave crashed onto her decks. With no one at the helm, she turned over, was pushed under and left to the mercy of the storm.

 

~*~

 

Lou groaned. She didn’t remember her bed being this hard. She turned over and into somebody else. She didn’t remember falling asleep with anyone, and her clothes were wet. That thought opened her eyes. She was on the bridge, and she hurt all over. Lou tried to get up but her legs wouldn’t work. She looked at the helm. Was someone there?

Jim groaned next to her.

She tried to shake him awake.

It was still dark outside and the storm still raged about them, but the boat was not being tossed about like before.

Lou rubbed her eyes and looked at the helm again.

There was someone there. A tall figure, either in white or some bright clothing, with brown hair. He had one hand on the wheel, the other on the throttle. The figure guided them through the storm.

Lou drifted off to sleep but only dozed. Every time she came to, the figure was still there, filling the bridge with light. She needed to check on Staci.

“Don’t worry. Staci is fine. Everything is all right. Sleep now.”

Unable to keep her suddenly very heavy eyes open, she closed them and slept. The next time she woke, it was quiet.

The wind and rain had stopped, and the sun was shining.

Avon was moving swiftly through the water, the strange bright figure still at the helm.

Lou nudged Jim awake.

He smiled at her and was about to speak.

She put a finger to her lips and pointed to the helm.

Jim stared in amazement.

Then the light faded and the figure was gone.

“He was there all night. Ever since that wave that should have sunk us. There was this huge, bright light around him.” Lou said.

Jim checked the chart. “I don’t understand this. We should be miles off course but we’re not. Look.”

“We’ve more than made up for it,” Lou said. “But the engines were dead.”

“Doesn’t sound like it to me. I’ll check them out. You check on Staci.”

Lou followed Jim below decks. The galley was spotless.

Deefer was finishing his breakfast. He barked a greeting to Lou and then bounded up to the door asking to be let out.

Jim opened the door. “Feel that sun,” he said. “It’s so warm.”

“Staci?” Lou walked toward the cabins.

“About time, too,” Staci replied in a cross tone. “Will you please untie me? I’ve been here for days.”

“Jim. Quick.” Lou shouted. She untied Staci and hugged her. “We’ve been so worried about you,” she told her.

“So worried you tied me up eh? Hi, bro.”

Jim swept Staci up in a bear hug. “I thought I’d lost you, kiddo.”

“No chance. So what did I miss?”

“Not much. Just a hurricane.”

“Yeah, Erika. I heard about that.”

Jim looked at her, puzzled. “Let me check on the engines,” Jim finally said, putting her down.

Staci held onto him. “One is damaged badly. The other works just fine. Check if you don’t believe me.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Let’s have something to eat. I’m starving.” She went up to the galley.

Jim glanced at Lou. “Watch her, Lou. I won’t be long.”

Lou nodded and went up to the galley. “Sit down, Staci. I’ll do it.” She put the kettle on and got down the med bag.

Staci sat down and let Lou examine her head.

“This is weird,” Lou said.

“What’s weird?” Jim asked coming in.

“This. It doesn’t look like a wound that is less than twenty-four hours old.”

The kettle boiled, and Jim made the tea. “That’s not the only weird thing around here. One of the engines is wrecked. The other has been repaired. Not by me either.”

“What time is it?” Staci asked.

“Almost ten. I’ll put the radio on in a sec. BBC World Service OK with you?” Jim said.

The girls nodded.

As Jim poured the tea they sat round the table with a loaf of bread and pot of jam in front of them. The pips came on, followed by the newsreader. “This is the BBC world service. It’s 10 AM on Thursday, July the tenth. Hurricane Erika has finally blown herself out after becoming the worst storm for seventy-five years. The cruise liner, Margarita, is being towed back to port after issuing a mayday shortly before she was struck by a tidal wave. One hundred and fifty-seven of her passengers and crew, including Captain Edward O’Brien and First Officer Charles Thornton, were killed when she was turned over by the force of the storm. Elsewhere the naval ships of both Britain and the America have rescued the crews of many small vessels caught in the monster storm. Several small fishing vessels are still unaccounted for. The M25 around London has finally reopened...”

Lou turned the radio down. “Thursday?” she said. “It can’t be. It’s Tuesday.”

“We can’t have slept that long,” Jim agreed. “It has to be Tuesday. The BBC must be wrong.”

“The BBC is never wrong,” Staci said.

“Your accident was Sunday, July sixth. We hit Hurricane Erika on Monday seventh,” Jim told her. “The eye of the storm was around 10 PM. Monday. What time was that final wave, Lou? The one we tried to ride into?”

“About half three.” Lou said. “Tuesday. This morning.”

Staci sighed. “You aren’t making any sense. Of course, it’s Thursday. The storm finished early this morning. Three days after it started.”

“What I don’t understand is how the engine got repaired,” Jim said. “I didn’t do it. I don’t even know how I got it going in the first place. And why aren’t we several hundred miles off course?”

“The figure on the bridge,” Lou said slowly. “The last thing I remember is Avon turning over and us falling and hitting the ceiling. I didn’t imagine him, did I? The bright light around him; he was sailing her. I could hear the storm around us, but the sea was calm as we weren’t being tossed about anymore.”

“And you reckon I bashed my head.” Staci laughed.

Lou rose and went to the bridge. The others followed. Lou said, “He was here. White clothing, brown hair. He had one hand on the wheel and one hand on the throttle. The wind was against us, yet we were moving forward with no problem. Jim, you saw him too, didn’t you? I didn’t imagine him.”

“I saw him too—you weren’t seeing things.”

“He spoke to me. He said everything would be all right. I never saw his face.”

Jim sat at the helm and checked the controls. “Staci, tell us about your accident. How did you fall?”

“I was reaching up to get the plates down and a glass fell out of the cupboard. I tried to catch it and lost my balance. The next thing I remember, I was standing on deck and there was this terrible storm. I heard a voice say ‘They need help, all you need to do is ask.’ I could see Jim on the bridge trying to control the boat. The rain was beating down, and the waves were huge and crashing on top of us. The voice told me to sing. That we would receive help. So I sang.”

“Eternal Father strong to save,” Lou said. “It filled the boat, but I was in the cabin with you. You were unconscious.”

“Isn’t there a verse about angels protecting people?” Staci asked.

Jim answered, “For He shall command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. Psalm 91:11.”

Lou looked at the window she’d patched. “The board’s come away,” she said. “We should be dead right now.”

“But we’re not. We were saved by...” Jim broke off.

“An angel,” Staci said. “A guardian angel sent to watch over us.”

“Your head needs looking at, kiddo.” Jim laughed. “You also need to rest. Go back to bed.”

“I’m fine. Stop fussing.”

Jim studied the chart. “This is where we were before the storm. And this is where we were during the eye of the storm and before we turned over.”

Lou nodded. “OK. Where are we now?”

“Here,” Jim said. “Look, it’s even been marked on there. We are on course, even ahead of where we should be.”

“We’re alive and still heading toward the Philippines to find your parents,” Lou said. “At least I assume we are? Unlike Jonah, we didn’t get swallowed by a whale.”

“Big fish,” Jim corrected. “The Bible never calls it a whale.”

“Whatever. Are we going home or carrying on?” Staci asked.

“I don’t know,” Jim replied slowly. “Maybe we should go back. That storm nearly sank us. We’ve only got one engine. The mast is broken beyond my capability to repair. We nearly lost you. We all almost drowned when Avon turned over. That wave was too big.”

“Jim, if we can survive the hurricane we can do it. It’s another what, ten days to Jamaica right?”

Jim nodded. “Assuming this engine holds out. With only one engine and no mast, if it goes we’ll never make it.”

“And I thought I was the one with no faith,” Lou laughed. “Your God sent an angel to guide us through that storm, to put us back on course—five days ahead if your figures are right. We have one engine that should be wrecked but is in working condition. I don’t think we are meant to give up just like that.”

“We carry on. OK?”

Staci looked at him. “We go back on our terms,” she said. “When we are ready and not because things got a little rough out here and our captain got scared.”

Jim pushed a hand through his hair and held her gaze. “I’ve got the message. You go, we go. All for one and one for all, and any other clichés you can think of. There is one condition though.”

“What’s that?” Staci asked warily.

“You are off the rota for the next few days, kiddo.”

Staci opened her mouth to complain, but Jim cut her off. “You had a nasty head injury. You were unconscious for days. You don’t have to stay in bed, but you are off active duty. You rest and read.”

“OK,” Staci sighed in defeat. “But you guys lost three days as well.”

“We slept rather than got knocked out,” Lou told her. “Jim’s right. You must take it easy for a while.” She scribbled on the notebook for a while. “Revised shift system for two people for your approval, Cap’n Jim,” she said handing him the paper.

Jim took it and looked at it. “That’s fine. What time is it?”

“Half one,” Staci said. “Lunch time.”

Jim laughed. “That’s my sister.”

“Well I haven’t eaten for days. I have lots of catching up to do.”

 

~*~

 

After lunch, Lou went up on deck. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and cloudless and a light breeze ruffled her hair. It seemed difficult to imagine now, how the sky and sea had been only a few days before. They had come through the storm and out the other side. There had been more than just the one storm going on, but that one had been safely weathered too.

Jim came up behind her. “Hi, Lou.”

“Who’s watching the helm?”

“Autopilot. Staci’s there anyway. You OK?”

“Yeah. Just thinking how different it is out here today.”

He nodded. “Like that hymn by Anna Waring we sang the day we left. It finishes ‘the storm may roar without me, my heart may low be laid, but God is round about me and can I be dismayed.’”

“We came through the storm—both of them.”

Jim looked confused. “Both storms?”

“Erika was the second storm in two days. We had a pretty big storm the day before.”

“It’s a downward spiral of consequences,” Jim said. “The ripples of repercussion are spreading.”

“Don’t you go all philosophical on me, mate. We made the decision to leave weeks ago. We are seeing it through to the end.”

“I know. I’m just not sure we’ll make Jamaica.”

“So stop before there. There are bound to be other islands with repair yards.”

Jim acquiesced. “OK. I’ll consult the maps. How does the boat look?”

“Repairs needed—lots of them. Broken decking, the mast is wrecked, windows gone or cracked. It’ll cost a bit to get fixed.”

“Don’t worry about the money. We’re alive and together and that’s all that matters.”

“Yes it is. No matter what.”

He took hold of her. “I promise it will never happen again.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Maybe not, but I can try, can’t I?”

Lou nodded. “We’re being watched. The bridge has eyes.”

“I’d best get back. Are you going to tell Staci about our fight?”

Lou shook her head. “No. There’s no need. It’s between us and it’s in the past. Right?”

“Right. Now I must get back to the bridge. I have some maps to look at.”

“Jim, how are you going to write this up in the log book? We’ll sound insane saying an angel saved us.”

“It’s the truth,” Jim said simply. “And they do say that truth is stranger than fiction.”