Authors: Luke Rhinehart
Reports from the Bahamas about the West Indies were discouraging.. The Bahamian government had declared a state of emergency and martial law, warning Bahamians that the food imports on which they had depended for more than eighty per cent of their normal food had been cut off by the war. Foreign ships, by which Neil knew must be meant American ships, were urged to go elsewhere. As panic buying had eliminated most of the island's stores of food, the Bahamians were not welcoming the sudden influx of sick, injured, and foodless Americans fleeing from the two nuclear explosions over Miami and Cape Canaveral.
Radio Nassau had implied a racial incident in reporting that five American 'yachtsmen'
had been killed by several unapprehended black Bahamians 'in a streetlight'. If Vagabond had to by-pass the Bahamas they would run quite short of food and water before they could hope to reach Puerto Rico or the Virgin Islands. Jim's and Lisa's success the last two mornings hooking three big fish was encouraging, but they were in the Gulf Stream now; if they continued south, in another day or two they'd be east of it and the fishing less dependable.
As the wind freshened further and storm clouds gathered on the southern horizon like thick black smoke, Neil had to admit that he was also worried about Vagabond's being badly
overloaded: A good trimaran normally sails faster than a good monohull because of its lightness, which permits it to skip over the water rather than plough through it. But Vagabond was now almost two thousand pounds heavier than the ship they had sailed north and was sailing two or three knots slower. It made her pound heavily into the huge seas which were rolling at her.
Although altering course to run before the storm would end the slamming that was the greatest danger and discomfort, Neil knew that even then the wind and seas would continue to drain energy from those aboard. In his own experience thirty-five knot winds and twelve-foot seas were bearable, but for most of the others they represented a danger far more immediate, palpable, and unpleasant than anything on the mainland. All were seasick except Neil, 01ly, Tony and Elaine, and since none of those were the types to go cleaning up other people's messes, most of the cabins were beginning to stink of vomit. With Seth's bullet wounds, Tony's cracked rib and general seasickness, their crew was considerably weakened.
But despite the problems, he hated the thought of turning back towards the fallout and explosions and people-evil of the land. A storm at sea was something he could deal with; the effects of man's madness on land were not.
As he made the rounds of the ship before meeting with Frank, Tony and Macklin to discuss their course, he knew that to continue southwards against these seas would create serious morale problems. It might be exhilarating to escape from explosions, pirates and radioactive fallout, but with those dangers now distant and remote, the endless slamming, slamming, slamming, the awful whine of the wind in the rigging, the woeful roll, pitch, and plunge of the trimaran, the seasickness, and worst of all he knew, no indication of any safer haven south than west, was depressing most of the ship's company. Only Elaine and Tony had complained directly, but the averted gaze of Jeanne, and the sardonic humour of
Frank and Seth revealed similar feelings.
He, Tony, Frank and 0lly gathered around the dinette table at eleven-thirty that morning, the four of them swaying and bumping in their seats as Vagabond plunged and smashed forward through the huge seas. Jim was at the helm while an almost useless Conrad Macklin sat in misery on the little seat in the corner of the cabin. Everyone else was below in a berth. Frank, pale and weakened from vomiting, and Tony, seeming as energetic and healthy as ever, had both been urging Neil to change course for several hours.
Even before they could begin their discussion, Vagabond struck a big roller with a savage smash that spilled silverware out of a drawer and toppled half a dozen books out of the dinette bookcase. Neil went immediately up on deck and instructed Jim to bring Vagabond around ninety degrees to head due west while they had their discussion. As he watched and instructed Lisa in adjusting the sheets of the storm jib and double-reefed mainsail, Neil felt immediately how much easier the motion of the boat became. Vagabond now began surfing along and down the big swells instead of having to plough through them, and though the noise of the water and wind was little diminished, the actual strains on the boat had probably been halved.
When Neil returned to the main cabin Frank and Tony looked pleased.
`What a different feeling,' Tony announced triumphantly. `Thank God we didn't wreck poor Vagabond before we changed course.'
`Yes,' Neil commented dryly. 'How lucky.'
Àre we going to hold course back to land?' Frank asked. `Not necessarily. That's a decision that I've decided should be made by the four ship's officers,' Neil replied.
`What about the rest of us?' Tony interjected. 'Don't Seth and me and Jeanne count for anything?'
`That's right,' said Frank. 'I'm not sure it's fair not to include all the adults.'
Neil glanced at Oily, who was leaning back with his eyes closed holding his unlit pipe in his mouth, and at Tony, also opposite him, who was flushed with excitement. Àre you prepared, Frank,' Neil countered, 'if outvoted by Tony, Seth, Macklin, and Elaine, to surrender the ship's fate to majority decision?'
Rubbing his big hands in front of him, his face wet from the sweat of his nausea, Frank scowled.
`No, I guess not,' he answered slowly. 'We should consult with everybody, but the decision should be made by the four officers.' He didn't look up at Tony opposite him.
`Well, Tony,' Neil said neutrally to Tony, who had flushed at Frank's betrayal. 'What do you advise?'
`You know what I advise,' Tony answered angrily. 'That we stop beating our brains out and get back to land. You promised us in the Chesapeake that we'd be landing back on the US coast. You can't go back on that.'
`Would you feel that way if we begin to run into fallout?'
Òf course not,' Tony snapped back. Tut we should try to get back. Especially when the damn boat is getting smashed to pieces.'
`Frank?' Neil asked quietly.
`We should run before the storm and get back to land,' he said, again not looking up. Òlly?'
`Whatever you want, Cap, is all right by me,' Captain 01ly replied promptly without even bothering to open his eyes. 'I like it out here, but if you feel we ought to go unload a few landlubbers it's okay by me.'
Neil smiled and stood up.
Ì'll go consult the others,' he said.
Five minutes later he returned. 'Jim and Seth say they'd rather I decided,' Neil announced quietly as he resumed his seat opposite a now dozing Captain 01ly. 'I . .
`What the fuck is this shit?' Tony exploded. 'You got everybody but me and Frank under your thumb?'
Ì doubt it,' Neil replied. 'I'm sure that if Macklin here had the strength to comment he'd want to return to land.' `You're damn right,' Tony said. 'And what about Elaine?' `She was sleeping, but I'm sure she'd vote the way you do.' `You're damn right.'
Ànd Jeanne?' Frank asked softly.
Jeanne's vote would have been decisive for Neil, but fortunately - or unfortunately - she had been as ambivalent as Neil himself. She was miserable with her seasickness and that of Skip, and frightened of the crashes of the waves against the seemingly flimsy plywood of the hull, but she had at first joked by urging Neil to 'take me away from it all', and 'to take her some place where she could die in peace.' But just before he had left she had clutched his arm and said earnestly, `You've saved me and my children twice already. I'd be a fool to question how you plan to do it a third time.'
`Jeanne essentially left it up to me also,' Neil finally answered Frank.
`None of this proxy shit,' Tony persisted. 'The fact is that most of those with minds of their own know we ought to be getting back to the mainland.'
`Frank votes your way and Jim and 01ly abstain,' Neil went on quietly. 'My personal decision . .
Ì insist you consult those others,' Tony interrupted.
`My personal decision,' Neil went on, 'is that we continue on a course to close with the mainland until the weather moderates or we encounter the danger of radioactive fallout.'
Ìt's only fair that . . . What?' Tony said, taken aback by Neil's decision.
`Frank, when you and Tony go on duty an hour from now,' Neil said, turning to his friend beside him, 'try the transistor radio every hour to pick up news about conditions along the North Carolina coast.'
`Fine,' said Frank.
`We're about a hundred miles off the coast now,' Neil continued. 'At this rate we'll close on the coast during the
night. We've got to find out if the big navigational lights are in operation.'
`They've got emergency generators,' Frank said.
'I know. They should be working. However, I'd prefer not to sail on to the Hatteras or Lookout shoals to find out they're not.'
`We're going back to the mainland?' Tony asked, still adjusting to his unexpected victory. Ìf the mainland will have us,' Neil replied, rising again. Ì'm going to check with the short wave to see if I can find out more about this storm. See you later.'
After Neil had left, 01ly announced that he was going to take a nap and went forward to lie down. Frank poured himself and Tony a tiny amount of whisky in water and sat down again.
`Well, we won that one,' Tony said.
Startled, Frank looked up at him.
Ì think Neil realizes,' Tony went on, 'that he can't run this boat without our support. He's made himself captain, but in effect we have veto power.'
Frank sipped at his drink.
Ànd I want you to know, Frank,' Tony went on, leaning forward and putting one of his hands on Frank's arm, 'that if push ever comes to shove, I'm behind you one hundred per cent. You understand?'
Frank stared at his drink.
Òne hundred per cent,' Tony repeated, standing up. 'As far as I'm concerned you already are the captain.' He paused, staring down at Frank, who didn't look up. When Vagabond surfed down a big wave Tony staggered forward, steadying himself against the wall behind Frank.
Ì gotta take a piss,' he concluded, and left Frank alone. Frank stared at his drink another ten seconds, then, grimacing, tossed the rest of it off. The grimace continued until, looking sick and swearing irritably under his breath, he went hurriedly up the hatchway steps for fresh air.
When Tony came out of the john Conrad Macklin was
seated at the dinette and had poured himself a shot of whisky. Tony sat down opposite him.
Ì thought you were too sick to drink,' Tony said.
Ì'm only too sick to stand watch,' Macklin answered indifferently, looking coolly at Tony and pouring the other man a drink.
`You hear what I said to Frank?' Tony asked, holding his plastic cup of whisky. Macklin nodded and took a short swig from his cup.
`But you know, Tony,' he said after a short silence. 'Frank will never be captain of this ship.'
`No?' said Tony, steadying the bottle after it slid a few inches from Vagabond's surfing along the face of a wave.
`He'll be dead in a month,' said Macklin. 'And besides, he hasn't got the guts to be captain.'
`Well, all I know is that Loken makes like a dictator.' Macklin nodded and sipped gingerly again at his drink, his
round owlish face and eyes examining Tony without expression. `Sooner or later, Tony,'
he went on softly, 'he's going to
kick you and me off the boat.'
Tony looked up quickly. 'You, maybe,' he cpuntered. Tut why me? I'm as good a sailor as he is, maybe better.'
Macklin smiled and nodded meaningfully. 'That's exactly why he has to get rid of you,'
he said to Tony. 'He knows you're the only other man aboard with captain potential.'
Tony looked at Macklin uncertainly, the sway of the kerosene lantern creating shadows that made it difficult to decipher Macklin's expression.
`Sooner or later,' Macklin went on softly, 'either you'll get kicked off . . . or you and I will have to take over the boat.' `No one's kicking me off anything,' Tony snapped back. `That's right, Tony,' Macklin replied, nodding. 'That's right.' Macklin held his half-filled cup towards Tony and, after a pause, Tony understood. The two men clicked their cups
together and drank.
When the rain began falling that afternoon Neil called out all hands that had strength to come up on deck to catch and store as much water as they could. Because the winds were gusting by then to over forty knots and the double-reefed mainsail couldn't be used as it normally could to channel rain water into buckets, Neil had his crew use instead a small jib and two nylon Bimini covers. They caught as much as they could in these, then channelled the water into buckets and at last into the main storage tanks and their large plastic containers. With the winds making their nylon collectors difficult to control and his crew never having tried the manoeuvre, there was much swearing and quite a bit of spilled rain water. However, Neil had also stopped up the drains holes in the cockpits to be scooped up later. By late afternoon they had gathered almost twenty gallons, more than half of it quite clear, and even that rescued from the cockpits was potable. Because they were at last headed back towards land and many were seasick, Tony and Elaine and a few others complained it was all an unnecessary game, but Neil kept them at it for two hours. By dusk, there were quite a few grumblers.
For Jeanne the day seemed endless. The smell of vomit permeated her cabin, and though the horrifying blasts of the sea against her cabin wall had ended, Vagabond still seemed to be thrown around like a tiny dinghy. Elaine, although thoroughly frightened most of the morning, had been reassured by a solicitous Tony for over an hour in the early afternoon and emerged from their tete-a-tete quite cheerful, and as oblivious of the rolling and plunging of Vagabond as a globecircling sailor. Her daughter Rhoda was sick, but nothing seemed to disturb the bland Elaine, who, unable to concentrate on anything' for more than a minute or two, was another source of misery for Jeanne.