FOR THE LOVE OF THE SEA (12 page)

‘Have a wonderful time. Looking forward to our dinner on your return. Regards Doug.’

Thoughtfully Cassie put the card in her bag - a reminder to say thank you when she got home.

Refreshed by the shower and a couple of hours sleep, she made her way down to the foyer to wait for Dexter.

Outside, the quay was preparing for the evening’s entertainment. Neon lights were flashing on and off, table candles were lit at various harbour side restaurants and music was beginning to infiltrate the night air.

A schooner moored at the far end of the harbour, was dressed from stern to bow with flags and small lights that added their reflections to others in the rippling water as the boat tugged gently at its anchor.

Above it all, the silhouette of Table Mountain could be seen against the darkening night sky. Wisps of gossamer thin mist teased Cassie’s view of it.

“It’s a view you will never ever forget seeing,” Dexter said as he appeared at her side. “Shall we go?” 

Companionably, they walked along the waterfront. The restaurant he’d chosen was well placed for watching the comings and goings of both boats and people and Cassie was soon soaking up Cape Town’s unique harbour side atmosphere.

The next day after a good night’s sleep, Cassie set out for the yacht club. Dexter had told her ‘Flight of the Seagull’ should cross the finish line sometime in the afternoon and given her a pass that would get her into the reception area without any problems.

Now, hesitantly, with her pass in her hand, Cassie stood inside the Yacht Club. She could feel the buzz of excitement already in the air. Smart yachty types in navy blazers and white slacks bustled importantly about. As she stood there uncertainly, searching for Dexter in the crowd, one of them came over and glanced at her pass.

“Ah, Mrs Lewis - Little Polly’s Mother.” He smiled at her.

“Welcome. I think your team are out on the terrace.” He turned clearly expecting her to follow him through the Club House.

Team? In the midst of all the excitement, Cassie had forgotten that the shore crew would be in Cape Town waiting for Polly. In fact, they’d be following her all around the world.

At the finish of every leg they’d go over the yacht and get her ready for the next part of the voyage.

“What’s the latest news of Polly?” she asked.

It was the Rule of Thumb technician who answered her.

“She’s still in second place about twelve hours behind Colin but she’s got a problem with her generator which may have slowed her down. Still with luck she should be here in the early hours.”

“There’s nothing seriously wrong is there? You would tell me, wouldn’t you?” Cassie asked anxiously.

“I’ve spoken to her and so has Tom. She’s fine. Just wants this leg of the race over.”

Cassie accepted the offer of a cup of coffee from a passing waiter. A few more hours and she could breathe a sigh of relief, Polly would be here.

“Cassie? Cassie Lewis?”

Hearing her name, Cassie turned, her eyes widening in disbelief.

“Becky?”

When the two women finally disentangled themselves from their spontaneous hug, they stood back and looked at each in amazement.

For Cassie it was like turning the clock back twenty years. Becky, wife of Miles’s best friend and rival Trevor Thomas, was as tall and glamorous as ever.

Once upon time, she and Becky had been great friends and had spent a lot of time together in various harbours whilst their husbands were off sailing. After Miles’s death, however, Cassie had deliberately lost touch with the couple. Becky and Trevor were too painful a reminder of what she’d lost.

Now she looked at her old friend with affection and regretted those lost years.

“What are you doing here?” Cassie asked.

“We live here. It’s been about seven years now - ever since Trev gave up racing professionally. He runs his own charter business, but still gets involved with yacht racing whenever he can. He’s skippering the official boat out to meet Colin.”

Becky looked across at the growing crowd of spectators lining the quay, the small boats setting off to escort a triumphant ‘Flight of the Seagull’ to her temporary berth.

“I can’t believe Polly is grown up enough to be taking part,” she went on.

“When I saw her name on the competitors’ list I promised myself I would meet her. I didn’t dare hope you’d be here to welcome her ashore.” Becky sighed contentedly.

“Promise me we won’t lose touch again? Oh Cassie, we’ve got so much to catch up with. Come on, let’s find a seat and talk about the old days, before the place erupts with champagne for the winner.”

“Anna and I are going to walk Solo. Will you be OK for a while?” Mai asked.

Tom nodded, concentrating on the computer screen.

“I’m trying to find some more info for Polly. She’s still having problems with the generator.”

“OK. We’ll leave you to it,” and Mai took Solo’s lead off its peg.

As she and Anna made their way down through the yard, Mai glanced across at the barge now secure on its mooring in the river.

So far everything was going well with this new venture despite the initial problems. Justin, the Megabyte crew-member Doug had lent them had turned out to be a good instructor.

“How’s the morning sickness?” Anna asked as Mai let Solo off her lead. The dog bounded away to sniff her way along the path.  

“Better every day,” Mai said. “Which is a huge relief. Have you had any more news on your house?”

“The survey was done yesterday. A couple more weeks to completion and then the builders can go in and sort the bathroom and install the Aga.”

“Has Cassie mentioned her idea of swapping houses with Tom and me?” Mai asked casually.

Anna nodded. “Yes. She’s very keen on the idea.”

“She hasn’t just suggested it because she knows it will be easier for us?”

“Definitely not,” Anna said firmly. “Cassie wants to do something she has never done before - live alone, with no responsibility for anyone but herself. And Solo of course.” She laughed as the dog came racing back to them with a large stick for them to throw.

“How do you feel about the idea anyway?” She looked at Mai.

“It would be great. Tom should be out of the wheelchair soon and the stairs there are a lot easier for him to manage. We could have a proper nursery too.”

Sudden frenzied barking from Solo brought the conversation to an end as Mai and Anna began to run towards her.

A teenage boy was trying to free a small wooden boat from the mud flat on the river’s edge. An outboard motor fixed lopsidedly to the boats stern looked in danger of falling off. As Solo continued to bark at the boy, he kicked out at her.

“Hey stop that,” Anna and Mae both yelled together.

“The dog attacked me. Dangerous dogs are supposed to be muzzled.”

“She’s not dangerous. You must have done something to her,” Anna snapped.

“Solo come here.”

With a last loud warning bark at the boy, Solo reluctantly did as she was told and Mai quickly clipped her lead on. Solo continued to utter low throated growls as they walked away leaving the boy struggling to get the boat in to the water.

Back at the yard, they told Tom about the incident.

“He was probably doing some illicit fishing.” Tom shrugged.

“I don’t know, Tom,” Anna said. “He looked pretty shifty to me. And Solo definitely didn’t like him.”

“Well, if you’re worried, mention it to James. He usually knows which rogues are out and about on the river. Right now though I’ve got enough to worry about.”

He looked at them steadfastly.

“I’ve lost contact with Polly. And so has Race HQ.”

*******

Flight of the Seagull
had sailed into Cape Town to a rapturous welcome before the news filtered through that contact had been lost with Polly and
Clotted Cream
.

Around her, the noise of the celebrations faded into the background as a shocked Cassie tried to take in what Dexter was telling her.

“Cassie, please don’t worry. We know her position as of twelve hours ago when she was fine and making good time. We also know she’s been having problems with her generator. More than likely that’s what has caused the communication problem.”

Cassie looked at him numbly. Willing him to be speaking the truth.

“Right now Race, HQ is contacting the boat in third position to see if he has seen her. As soon as we have any news you’ll be told.”

“It could be some time before we hear anything though,” Dexter continued. “Why don’t you go back to the hotel and get some rest?”

“I’d rather wait here,” Cassie began to protest, when Becky interrupted.

“I’ll drive you. I’ve got my mobile and as soon as there is any news Trev or Dexter will phone. We can be back here in minutes.”

Dexter looked at her gratefully.

“Honestly, Cassie nothing is going to happen for a few hours.” 

Once back at the hotel Becky insisted on ordering some sandwiches and a pot of coffee from room service.

“Come on Cassie, you need to eat something. It’s going to be a long night.”

But Cassie was too wound up to eat or drink a thing.

Becky’s prophecy of a long night ahead of them proved to be true. It was gone two o’clock when Becky’s mobile phone rang.

Cassie, lying on the bed with her eyes closed, feigning sleep, was immediately on her feet, staring fearfully at her friend.

“Thanks, Trev. I’ll tell her.” Becky looked at Cassie.

“They’ve had a sighting of Polly. There’s still been no contact, but she appears to be sailing hard and, on her current course is about three hours away from Cape Town.”

“What else?”

“The sighting was made by the yacht in third position, ‘World Wanderer’. He’s rapidly gaining on her and there is a chance that Polly will lose her second position.”

“So long as she’s safe,” was Cassie’s instinctive reaction to Becky’s words.

“Dexter has arranged for you to go out in the launch when we get back to the Yacht Club and escort
Clotted Cream
into her berth,” Becky told her.

Cassie immediately picked up her yellow waterproofs.  “Let’s go,” she said.

As they drove back towards the Yacht Club, Cassie was amazed at the number of people making their way along the waterfront.

“They’ll have heard of Polly’s problems and be determined to give her a proper welcome to Cape Town, even if it is the middle of the night.”

Dexter was waiting for them, Trev and Colin the winning skipper with him.

“Cassie we’ve got an estimated time of five o’clock for Polly crossing the finish, so we plan to leave here in about an hour.”

Now she knew Polly was within sight of the coastline Cassie felt the nervous tension of the past few hours slipping away.

She struggled into her waterproofs and headed off with the others down to the boat. On the way Cassie asked Dexter about the yacht which reported sighting Polly.

“Is he still gaining on her?”

Dexter shook his head. “No, she’s managing to hold on to her lead but the wind a couple of miles off shore is very fickle. She’s going to lose speed the closer she gets to the finish line. But then, so is ‘World Wanderer’.”

There was a discernible hum of excitement aboard the flotilla of boats going out to the finish line.

As Trev said to Cassie as they took off into the night, “To have two yachts still racing in such close quarters for second place after nearly 7,000 miles is almost unheard of.”

It was Colin who spotted the first sails.

“There’s one of them,” he shouted, his binoculars with their night sight trained on the distant sea.

“It’s
World Wanderer
,” and he began to scan the sea again while Cassie’s heart began to pound. Where was Polly?

Half a minute passed before Colin handed Cassie the binoculars and pointed out the direction she should look. Polly was coming in on a different course. 

Everyone held their breath wondering which skipper had chosen the best option.

As the sky began to lighten and dawn approached,
Clotted Cream
drew closer, its mainsail taking full advantage of the available breeze. Finally, she was close enough for Cassie to see the small figure of her daughter standing in the cockpit.

Cassie felt the tell tale pinprick of tears starting in her eyes. She knew Polly would be desperate to finish before ‘World Wanderer’, whereas she was just pleased to have her daughter complete this first leg safely.

“Wind’s died,” Trev observed.

Polly’s sail began to flap and she quickly tacked in an effort to find some air movement. The next few minutes were nerve racking as
Clotted Cream
wallowed in the sea, tantalisingly close to the finish line, and her rival sailed closer.

Then, at the moment the sky turned pale pink with the dawn and a wispy tablecloth tumbled over the edge of Table Top Mountain,
Clotted Cream
found an elusive breeze. Two minutes later the gun rang out as she crossed the line to a tumultuous welcome. Polly had done it. She was second. Nigel, skipper of ‘World Wanderer’ followed her in six minutes later to an equally enthusiastic reception.

Flares were set off, boat hooters sounded, cameras flashed and champagne corks popped. The shore crew boarded
Clotted Cream
and took control of her as she was towed into port.

Polly, punching the air with delight, was overjoyed to see Cassie in the launch.

“Come on board Mum!” she cried.

By the time Cassie had clambered on to the deck of
Clotted Cream
, the tears were flowing freely from both mother and daughter.

As they made the short trip into the harbour Cassie struggled to get them under control and asked Polly why she’d lost contact in the last twenty-four hours.

“The generator packed up and unfortunately I’d forgotten to charge my batteries fully the night before. The only thing I could do was to switch everything off so there would be enough battery power to work the autopilot every hour whilst I had a catnap. Thank goodness it happened at the end of the leg. No auto pilot means no sleep.”