13

 

Jim crept into the girls’ cabin and shook Lou. “Wake up sleepyhead,” he whispered in an overly sweet tone.

Lou turned over and groaned. She opened her eyes. “It can’t be two o’clock already?”

“Come on. Get dressed.”

“All right. Give me a minute.”

“No way.” Jim pulled the duvet off her. “Up. Now.”

Lou yawned and sat up. Still yawning, she went up to the bridge, dressed but not sure she matched. “Sorry,” she said. “What time is it?”

“Half past four. How does fresh fish sound?”

“Very nice, but I don’t see many fish shops round here.”

“I hear the sea is well stocked at this time of year. Coming fishing?”

“We can’t leave Avon unattended, and Staci won’t want to wake up. Not this early.”

“We’ll cut the engines and let her drift. There’s nothing on the radar for miles, except fish.” He turned on the fish finder screen and it lit up like a Christmas tree. “We’ve got a line, a net and the fish. Coming?”

“You know I hate fishing.”

“Oh, yes, I do.”

“It’s still dark.”

“Not for much longer.”

“And we don’t have any bait.”

“Bought some in Grand Turk. And quit your moaning.” Jim cut the engines and Avon slowed to a stop. “She should hold her position fairly well,” he said.

They let the dinghy carefully over the side of the boat and into the water. Jim climbed down the ladder into it.

Lou passed him his rod, line and two boxes and then climbed down the ladder herself.

Pulling out the oars, Jim rowed away from Avon.

“Jim, won’t Staci panic if she wakes and finds us gone and the boat drifting?” Lou asked.

“She won’t wake for hours. We’ll be back well before then. Besides I left her a note.” Jim replied confidently. He stopped rowing. “Here should do.” He set up his line and cast it over the side.

Lou settled back in the dinghy and closed her eyes. “There’s no room for me,” she complained sleepily. “Too much fishing equipment.”

“Stop moaning. Hey, wake up.”

Lou opened her eyes. “I’m sorry Jim. I’m just so tired that my eyes shut all by themselves.” She yawned. “It’s all this sea air.”

“So long as it’s not my company.”

“No. Perish the thought. You boring? Never. Not in a million years. It’s fishing. You know I detest it.”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

Lou sat up a bit. “I’m sorry about the logbook.” She growled. Then, she took in his irritated glare. “Jim, can we talk?”

“I thought that’s what we were doing.”

“I mean really talk. Please?”

“Sure,” Jim said, looking intently at her. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well first, what will we do when we get to the Philippines?”

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t have visas and as they check passports, it won’t take them long to work out who we are. We need to work out how to handle it, what to do.”

Jim tilted his head slightly. “I know. Honestly we’ve wasted so much time going this way, I wish I’d flown.”

Lou pulled a face. “Hey, you caught one.”

Jim reeled it in and put it in one of the boxes. He re-did his line and cast it once more. “So,” he said. “What do we do?”

“We can’t call ahead before we dock now anyway, so that will arouse their suspicions. Maybe you could slip a note inside your passport.”

Jim laughed. “What? ‘We are runaways and wish to hand ourselves in.’ Or—‘We’re searching for my parents as the authorities couldn’t be bothered’”

“Something like that. It’s just, well, no radio or phone...”

Jim brought another fish aboard. “I know what you mean. I feel like that too. More often than I thought I would.”

“I miss Mum. I was wrong to leave her.” Lou admitted quietly. “I never thought I would, you know, but I do. She’s changed so much since Dad died. She never smiles. Always worries over bills and I can never do anything right as far as she’s concerned. It just seemed like with me gone maybe she’d finally be happy, but maybe I was wrong...I don’t know. This is going to sound really silly, but I even miss being sent to bed or being grounded.”

“You’ll see her again, just like we’ll see my parents eventually.”

The warm rays of the sun started to peep over the horizon. Everything looked warm and welcoming. Jim caught several more fish fairly quickly as Lou lay back in the boat and watched in silence.

“Say we do find my parents,” he said. “What’ll happen to Avon?”

“You and I could sail her back. There’s nothing to stop you from doing that. You’re eighteen now and legal. Let Staci fly home with your parents.”

“Staci would love that—not.”

“At least you’d know she was safe.”

Lou looked across the surface of the ocean towards the rising sun and trailed her hands in the water.

Jim smiled at her. “Trying to frighten away the fish?” he asked.

“No. Although I should. It’s a very cruel sport. Have you ever considered the implications, the pain that that hook of yours inflicts on those poor defenseless fish? Especially the ones you throw back. Maybe I should report you to the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Fi....” Her voice tailed off as her attention was caught by something slicing through the water. “Jim.”

He looked across at her. “What’s the matter?”

“Look,” she said pointing.

“Can’t see anything.”

“Look there. It’s coming towards us.”

Jim followed her gaze and saw what she’d seen. Moving towards them was a black triangle.

“Shark,” he said.

He threw the line into the rubber dinghy and began to row. They had drifted some way from Avon.

“I didn’t believe you. I’m sorry.” Lou bit her lip as her heart rate tripled.

Jim gritted his teeth. “Never mind,” he muttered, rowing for all he was worth. He looked over his shoulder. Moving one oar, he swung the dinghy round so he was heading in the right direction.

The shark was getting closer.

Jim rowed fast, but the gap between them and the shark decreased faster than he could row.

Staci appeared on deck. “Are you enjoying yourselves?” she called.

“Don’t be silly,” Lou shouted. “Shark.”

“Not you, too,” Staci sighed. “One of you is bad enough.”

Lou whirled round, making the dingy wobble. The shark had dropped back. It vanished beneath the water. “Jim, it’s gone.” She grabbed one of the oars from Jim and helped him row.

From Avon’s deck, Staci called, “I see no shark. You two are seeing things.”

Deefer barked louder and louder and tried to jump over the side of Avon.

“Stop it.” Staci said.

The shark surfaced and sped towards the dinghy.

Lou screamed as the shark rammed them, almost sending them over.

Staci looked up and saw the dinghy rocking. “Don’t rock the boat,” she laughed. The laughter died.

The black triangle sliced through the water for another attack.

The dinghy rocked again and Jim lost an oar. He groaned.

The shark disappeared.

“It’s gone,” Staci called.

Lou relaxed slightly but a minute later the dinghy bucked up into the air.

There was a tearing sound, followed by the rush of escaping air.

Then they were up to their necks in water.

“Swim, Lou,” Jim yelled.

They both struck out at the same time.

Lou, not willing to let dinner go, grabbed the box of fish.

Jim reached Avon first and clambered up the ladder to safety. Then he turned to look for Lou. “Leave the fish,” he shouted.

“No.” Lou replied. She swam one-handed as fast as she could.

“Lou, drop the fish. Swim,” Jim yelled.

“Look out.” Staci screamed at the same time.

Lou threw herself to one side and missed the shark by inches. It turned fast and Lou felt a searing pain in her left leg. Something pulled her under the water. She struggled and the shark let go, dragging its teeth down her leg as it did so. As she surfaced, Jim, dove into the water.

Lou shut her eyes, her last sight that of the shark, coming straight for her.

The pain in her leg returned, and she screamed as strong teeth gripped her. She managed half a breath, before the water closed over her. She struggled, wasting her air on trying to get away. The shark tightened its grip, and Lou ceased her struggles as the last bit of air escaped from her lungs.

This is it. Darkness closed in around her. This is death. The thought didn’t frighten her, instead she welcomed it—anything to escape the searing pain. The shark loosened its grip as if it sensed her capitulation. Then, strong arms grasped her and pulled her upwards.

As she broke the surface, Lou breathed automatically. She opened her eyes and through a red pain-filled haze saw Jim. She tried to speak.

“Shhh,” he said. “We’re not safe yet.”

“Leave me,” Lou moaned.

“No way. You go, we go.”

“Staci the rope,” Jim yelled. As they reached Avon, Jim tied a sturdy rope around her waist and then scrambled up the ladder.

Lou was barely conscious as she was pulled out of the water.

They lifted her gently on to the deck.

Deefer pushed against her and covered her face with licks.

Lou moaned and feebly tried to push him away.

“Staci, take the dog away. Shut him in the cabins. Then get us underway.”

“But I’ve never...”

“No buts, Stace. You’ve seen me do it. Start the engines and hit the autopilot. Maximum speed.”

Deefer whined and barked in protest.

Jim turned his attention to Lou.

 

~*~

 

Amazingly, Lou was still conscious. A pool of blood had formed from her bleeding leg.

He smiled at her.

“OK,” he said, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt. “Where does it hurt?”

“Idiot,” Lou whispered. “You know where it hurts.” She moaned as the boat shuddered and started to move. Tears pricked her eyes.

Staci came across with the first aid kit. “Here,” she said. “The med-bag and kitchen scissors. Autopilot is on.”

Jim took them. “Thanks, Stace. Close your eyes, Lou, and for once in your life don’t argue.”

Lou shut her eyes. She had never known pain like this. It enveloped every pore of her being and threatened to overwhelm her.

“I need to cut away your jeans OK?”

Lou’s eyes flickered open. “Jim?”

“Yes, mate?”

“Keep going. Don’t turn back because of this.” She muttered the words.

“We have to. We’re going back.”

“Come too far to give up.”

He touched her shoulder. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.” He turned his attention to her shattered and mangled leg. “Where do I start?” he asked.

“At the top and work down,” Lou mumbled and finally her eyes closed. She was out.

Nausea rose in Jim’s throat as he worked. Lou’s leg was a mess. The shark had taken out a huge chunk of thigh and left multiple teeth marks and tear marks. Below the knee was a different story altogether. It looked like the leg had almost been bitten through.

He steeled himself and touched her foot. Incredibly, it was still warm. He looked at Staci. “Kiddo, see if you can find me something to splint this with. There should be some wood in the cargo hold. I kept some of the old broken decking. And see if there’s any whisky or something. You know where Dad puts it. I can use it to sterilize stuff. Check the bridge too, will you?”

Staci nodded and headed inside.

Jim closed his eyes. “Help me, Lord,” he prayed. “I’m no surgeon, You know that. Guide my hands that I may do more good than harm.” Opening his eyes, he ripped open another packet of saline and continued to irrigate the wounds. Then he began to try and piece the torn flesh together

Staci came back with three pieces of wood and the bottle. “Here,” she said. “How are you doing?”

“Don’t ask, Stace. I have no idea what I’m doing. I need to set this somehow. She needs a doctor.”

“We both know that’s not possible. So does Lou. Just do your best to keep her alive until we can land. Then we’ll find a doctor.”

Jim nodded. “See if there is anything in the bag to stitch with.” He gritted his teeth and maneuvered Lou’s leg until the cuts were aligned as best he could. Then he tipped half the whiskey over it. Not ideal, but it’d do in a pinch.

Staci shook her head. “No, nothing.”

“OK. I really can’t sew anyway. I need all the gauze and bandages and cotton wool you can find. Rip sheets into strips if need be.” Jim pulled the torn flesh together by hand. Staci passed across all the gauze and helped Jim cover Lou’s leg. Next, they wrapped cotton wool round it and then bandaged it.

Having done that Jim laid the biggest piece of decking under her leg and put the other two on either side.

Staci came out with three sheets and ripped them into strips while he used them to fasten the splints to Lou’s leg.

“I’ll go grab her nightie so you can get her changed, Stace.” He handed her the scissors. “It’ll be easier to cut her clothes off.”

Moments later as his sister removed Lou’s wet and bloody clothing, he looked up at the heavens. “I’ve done all I can,” he said. “She’s in God’s hands now.” God, I really messed up here. Please, take care of her. Don’t let her die. I just want her to open her eyes and crack one of her awful jokes and tease me again. Please, don’t let her die.

“Shall I help you get her below deck?”

“I can carry her. Will turn down the duvet and put some towels in there to catch this blood. We’ll have to use your bed, so her leg isn’t next to the wall. Is that OK?”

“Sure.”

Staci ran on ahead. Jim scooped Lou up in his arms, grateful that she was still out of it. He went into the galley and realized the steps would be impossible alone. “Staci? I need a hand.”

“Thought you might.”

Between them, they managed to get Lou down the stairs and into the cabin. They laid her gently on Staci’s bed.

Deefer, still shut in Jim’s cabin, whined and scratched at the door.

He shut the door and went into his cabin.

Deefer almost knocked him over in his eagerness to get to his mistress.

Jim grabbed his collar just in time and shut the door. “You can’t see her just yet, boy. In a while, OK. Just let us get her comfortable.”

Deefer sat and looked at him.

“I know you wanted to help her earlier, but there was nothing you could have done.”

He stripped off his wet clothing and put on clean dry things.

Deefer whined, and it was as if he’d said. “Will she be OK?”

“I don’t know,” Jim answered. “She’s badly hurt. Let me get her settled and then you can see her.”

He picked up his wet clothes and left the cabin, shutting Deefer in.

Deefer barked twice in protest and then whined again.

Jim knocked on the girls’ door.

Staci opened it.

Jim propped Lou’s leg up and covered her, leaving her leg outside the duvet.

He then went up to the bridge, first putting his clothes to soak in the sink in the galley. He checked all the instruments, marked off their course, and increased speed. He looked out on to the deck at the red stain on the timbers.

Staci came up behind him. “Can I do anything?”

“I’ll clean up outside,” he said. “Can you watch here?”

“Sure.”

As Jim cleaned, the broom hit something buried under Lou’s shredded jeans--one of his fishing boxes. He picked it up and opened it. Fish. The fish he had caught that morning. The catch Lou had quite possibly given her life for. He glanced at his watch. It was only nine. He took the box up to the bridge. “It’s the fish,” he said woodenly. “I found it on the deck. I hadn’t realized she’d kept hold of it.”

Staci looked at it. “It’s my fault. If I didn’t like fish so much you wouldn’t have gone.”

“I took her out there as punishment for drawing all over the logbook. If anyone’s to blame it’s me.”

Staci put her arms round Jim and started to cry.

Jim dropped the box and returned Staci’s hug, tears pricking in his eyes. For a while, he just held Staci as waves of emotion swept over him.

Deefer barked again, and Jim pulled away. “I’d better go check on her.”

Lou’s face looked flushed.

Jim touched her head—she was very hot. He opened the porthole and went back up to the bridge.

Without turning Staci asked, “What do we do with the fish? I don’t want them now.”

“I’ll clean and freeze them. Can you watch the bridge for a bit longer?”

“No problem. How’s Lou?”

“Hot. Other than that, still out.”

Jim took the fish to the galley and quickly cleaned and gutted them, before putting them in the freezer. As he shut the freezer door, he became aware of sobbing coming from the bridge.

Staci was at the helm, tears streaming down her face.

“Are you OK, Stace?” he asked pointlessly, knowing she was far from fine.

“Not really. We can’t even call for help, can we? Lou’s dying, and we can’t do anything to stop it.”

“We can pray.”

Staci pulled a face. “What good will that do?”

“God answers all prayer, kiddo.”

“Not always. Mum and Dad are still missing.”

“The answer isn’t always yes. Sometimes it’s ‘not yet’ or ‘no,’ but He always hears and answers.”

Staci looked at him. “Why? Why is the answer no or not yet?”

“For the same reason Mum and Dad never gave you everything you wanted. You’d be a spoilt brat. You’d take it all for granted and never value anything. Some things just aren’t good for you.”

“I don’t want to argue with you, Jim, but it’s hard to accept at times that the things I want so badly aren’t what God wants for me. We’ve come so far, things were going so well and then this happens.”

He nodded. He was just as sad, just as angry, but wasn’t going to say as much.

“What about sailing? You can’t do it alone.”

“There’s a two-person rota here. Lou worked it out when you were ill.” Jim pulled it off the board and showed her.

Staci looked at it. “I remember now,” she said.

“But I don’t want you doing any of the night shift.”

“I’m not arguing.”

“One of us needs to be with Lou if we’re not up here, so I’ll change it slightly,”

“I’ll check on Lou, then I’ll do lunch.”

They changed places at the helm and after checking the instruments, Jim opened the logbook. His last entry was timed at 0400. Now at 1230, a few short hours later, everything had changed. He looked at the shark that Lou had drawn at the top of the page. It had a strange significance to it now. He’d been annoyed when he had first seen it, but now? He gathered his thoughts and began to write.

 

Captain’s log supplemental. Point 12 and a half

I took her fishing and I think I’ve killed her…she was talking and joking yet hating every minute of being out there. Her hand was trailing in the water and then there was a shark.

It hit the boat, punctured the dinghy and we were in the water. She tried to save the fish and the shark caught her, dragging her under the water. Somehow, I’m not honestly sure how, I got her away and onto the boat.

She’s badly hurt. Her leg is a mess. I’m not a doctor. I don’t know what to do. I pieced it back together, but…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. If I could only have this morning over, I’d do it differently.

Having completed the most difficult entry of the journey so far, he played around with the sailing rota until he came up with one he was happy with.

 

0800–1300 Staci

1300–1700 Jim

1700–2200 Staci

2200–0800 Jim

 

Staci came up. “Jim? Lou’s awfully hot. I’ve uncovered her.”

“Good idea.”

“Lunch is ready. Where do you want it?”

“Here if you like.”

Over lunch, he showed her the rota. “If I catnap at night, say between two and three, I could sleep when you have the watch.”

“That’s fine. So I take over at five then?”

“Yeah.”

“OK. I’ll clear up and go and sit with Lou for a bit.”

Left to himself Jim let his mind wander, so it was a good thing the autopilot was on. He went over and over the events of that morning, wondering why it had happened and how he could have averted it. He felt awful, convinced it was his fault. He turned his thoughts heavenward and put Lou and their whole situation into God’s hands.

After a while, he ran down both sets of stairs to the cabins.

Staci was asleep on her bed.

Jim crept quietly up to Lou’s bed.

Deefer gave a warning growl.

“I’m not hurting her boy. I just need to check her over.” He shone the torch into her eyes and noted that they both reacted. He still didn’t understand why it was so important, but Lou reckoned it was.

She was still hot and her skin flushed from fever.

Quickly he returned to the bridge and checked the controls. He looked at the map and checked off their position. Doing a few calculations he realized that turning round would make no difference. If they turned back it would take them three weeks to reach help whichever way they went, so they may as well carry on to the Philippines. Maybe they would come across another ship and could use their radio or medical facilities. He changed course slightly and increased speed.

 

~*~

 

Just after five, Staci joined him holding two plates of food.

“Hi,” she said.

Jim turned. “Hi. Smells nice.”

”I’m not hungry though.”

He moved over to her and took one of the plates. “You have to eat, kiddo. We both do. If we get sick, then we’re in big trouble.”

“I know. Are we turning back?”

“There is no point. We are three weeks away from land whichever way we go.”

“But the Philippines is six weeks away Jim. Lou doesn’t have six weeks.”

Jim put his plate down. “Staci, I don’t think she has three weeks either. Without medical help soon, she’ll probably die.”

“All the more reason to turn back.”

“I hope that we’ll start seeing other ships. Maybe we can flag one down to help us.”

“But…” Staci whined.

He pointed to her plate, not having the strength for one of her hissy fits. “Eat. That’s an order. I’m going to try to sleep. Course is laid in and autopilot is on. I’ll be back at ten.”

When Jim returned he pulled the logbook across the table—Staci had made an entry. She seemed to blame herself almost as much as he blamed himself. He’d checked on Lou just before he came on duty. She was unconscious, which was probably a blessing in disguise. She had a high temperature, which indicated a fever, which was probably due to infection.

He’d have to change the dressings on her leg tomorrow. The bandages and sheets could be washed and re-used. Maybe the gauze could be too. If the wound did get infected her faint chance of survival plummeted to almost non-existent.

He turned his attention back to the helm and took Avon on manual for a while to force his mind to focus on other things. It didn’t work and after an hour, he put the autopilot back on. He crept down to check on Lou.

She seemed hotter than before and her cheeks were even more flushed.

Staci had found a thermometer and put it on the bedside table.

Jim slid it gently under Lou’s arm. When it beeped, he read it, a hundred and one. He opened the window and put an extra duvet over Staci. Then he went back to the galley to make more coffee.

When morning came at last. Jim handed over gratefully to Staci. He refused breakfast, insisting he’d eat later. He checked Lou and laid on Staci’s bed, where he fell asleep almost immediately.

When he woke several hours later, he found Staci standing over him anxiously. “What is it?” he asked.

“It’s Lou.”

Jim sat up reluctantly and looked across at Lou. Her leg was oozing blood again. Any vestige of tiredness vanished. “Have we got any more bandages?”

“No. Shall I rip more sheets up?”

“Please. See if you can distract the dog.”

Staci tried, but Deefer wasn’t having any of it.

Jim looked at the stubborn canine. “Well, if you are staying there, you have to behave. I need to do this to make her better.”

Deefer put his head on Lou’s chest as if he understood.

Jim gently untied the splint, which wasn’t much good anyway, as the pieces were too big. He made a mental note to do something about them later. As he untied the bandages he noticed the smell. It got worse the more he removed.

Staci came in and wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell?” she asked.

“Lou’s leg is infected,” Jim told her. “That’s why she’s so hot.”

“That’s not good, is it?”

“No.”

Staci grabbed the pile of soiled dressings and took them up to wash. She returned with a bowl of water and some clean cloths. “I’ll wash the others,” she said. “Can you manage here?”

Jim nodded, afraid that if he opened his mouth he’d be sick. The wounded leg resembled a half-cooked pizza. He had to do this, but he hadn’t done too good a job so far. Gently, he cleaned the leg as much as he could and then just laid a dressing on top, to let as much air get to it as possible. Then he went to the bridge so Staci could sleep.