This new fear gave her a renewed sense of urgency; not to get the boat unstuck, which she knew she couldn’t do, but to get at the rifle Russell had locked away in the cockpit locker. She knew he had the key that had been hanging on the bulkhead. It was probably in a pocket in his shorts when he went over the side. Whether it still was or not didn’t matter. That one was gone for good, but she was sure her grandpa must have had a spare hidden away somewhere and she had to find it. She had a feeling she would need the rifle, whether to fend off Russell or someone else who might arrive in another boat. Without it she was helpless and exposed, an easy target out there in the wide open. It would soon be dark though, so she felt that gave her extra time to find it. Even if Russell was alive and had made it to the island, maybe he wouldn’t try to swim out there until morning.
It was weird going down below with the boat heeled over so far, yet not moving. She would have to live on it at that uncomfortable angle but she knew she would get used to it. At least she had a place to sleep and plenty of food and water. There was probably enough to last her for weeks, but she wondered if even that would be enough. She’d seen enough in the little sailing she’d done to know that when boats were hard aground like the Sarah J. was now, they generally required assistance from larger boats to get free again. She knew she might never get it off without help, unless she was lucky enough that the tide was at its lowest and enough water would come back in to float her free. Thinking of that, she decided that no matter how tired she was, she had to make herself wake up every couple hours or so to check. She did not want to sleep through the high tide cycle if one came during the night. It might be her best and only chance to get out of this mess before the wind or a storm made it worse, or Russell made his way out there to get his revenge.
Getting up to check the water level through the night only brought her more disappointment when she discovered that it had not been low tide when she hit the sandbar. She guessed it was somewhere in between, because although the water level rose a few inches between midnight and dawn, it was even lower than the evening before by the time the sun came up. She had tried the engine again in the dark when it seemed the highest but had no better luck than the first time.
While she was awake, however, she had discovered the spare key to the padlock Russell put on the cockpit locker. It was tucked away in a small box in the drawer of the Nav station, and when she tried it the lock opened immediately. The rifle was inside the locker, just as she’d thought. She lifted it out. It was heavy, but fairly short. Rebecca didn’t know much about guns, but she knew that if it was loaded, and she was sure it was, all she had to do was flip the switch from “safe” to “fire” to make it shoot. If she saw Russell swimming her way, she intended to do just that.
When the sun was high enough the next morning to reflect off the white sand of the beach he might have swum to if he survived, Rebecca scanned the island with her grandpa’s binoculars, but saw no movement. There were large rocks on parts of the little island, and she knew he might be behind one, if he was there at all, but since she didn’t see him she studied the waves between her and the island instead, looking for anything that could be a swimmer coming her way. She was tired from staying up all night, and dozed off on the cockpit seat when she saw nothing out there. But when she woke up a half hour later and checked again there was something. But it wasn’t what she was looking for, and it wasn’t between her and the little island, or on it, but far beyond it, on the other side. It was a sail! And as she studied it through the binoculars for several more minutes, she was certain that it was coming her way.
Twenty-nine
SCULLY WAS AT THE helm of Intrepida, steering east-southeast in the direction of a tiny cay they could see on the horizon in the midmorning sun. They had anchored near an equally small one some five miles to the northwest, and had set out at first light on this new course, which the chart showed would take them to the main islands in the Jumentos chain. The sight of this next little cay right where it was supposed to be confirmed the course was good. Scully asked Thomas to take the helm while he went forward to the base of the mast on the cabin top with the binoculars. He knew one could never be too careful in these reef-strewn waters, and he wanted to keep a good lookout as they passed near the cay. It would be easier to spot the shoals as the sun got higher, but aboard such a shallow draft vessel, Scully wasn’t especially worried.
They were within a half-mile or so of the cay and he was scanning the horizon beyond for the next one after it when he spotted something totally unexpected—a sail! It was far away and even with the binoculars he could not make out the hull beneath it, but from the angle it pointed at the sky he was sure that it was not a catamaran. Only a monohull sailboat would heel that far over. If it was an average sized-cruiser, he doubted they would catch it in the little seventeen-footer, and he was surprised he had not seen it sooner. At least he knew it was there though, and they would keep an eye out for it as they worked their way down the Jumentos chain. To be here sailing the course they were apparently sailing, the crew of this other boat had to be seeking out these islands, and would probably anchor somewhere along the way. Scully returned to the cockpit, telling Thomas to keep the same course he was steering.
“I hope they’re friendly folks if we run into them somewhere ahead,” Thomas said.
“Only got to watch out an’ see. Maybe we knowin’ soon, mon.”
Mindy was in the cockpit with them now, having made them all tea from the rapidly dwindling stores of such luxuries aboard Intrepida.
“The water here is even more beautiful than at Andros. I didn’t think that could be possible,” she said.
“We finally made it to the real Out Islands of the Bahamas,” Thomas said. “It would be awesome if it were the pleasure cruise we’d dreamed of.”
“We’ll make the best of it anyway. At least we’re safe here.”
“I hope,” Thomas said.
Scully checked the distant sailboat again and was surprised to see that they seemed to be getting a bit closer to it. He wasn’t sure how the other boat could be sailing that slow on the same course they were, but he knew too that the distance could play tricks on the eye and that it might take another hour to really know if they were gaining on it or not. He passed the binoculars to Mindy when she asked for them, saying she wanted to look at the nearby island. They would pass within a half-mile of it, but from what Scully had already seen, there was nothing of interest there; only barren sand and a few big rocks.
“Hey! There’s somebody on that island!” Mindy said. “Somebody is waving at us!”
Scully found this hard to believe, but when she gave him the binoculars and he looked for himself, he saw that it was true. A lone figure was standing on one of the highest rocks, waving something red back and forth over his head. He had to be a castaway, but how did he get here? As Scully watched the man continued his waving, while also running and hopping about with an apparent limp.
“He must be stranded,” Mindy said. “Should we help him?”
“It might be a trap,” Thomas said. “Maybe he’s just trying to lure us in. Can you tell if he’s armed or not, Scully?”
“Can’t see nothing, mon. He got somet’ing I t’ink is only de life jacket.”
Scully turned the glasses back to the distant boat, and saw that it was now closer to them than ever.
“I t’ink dat sailboat, she on de ground, mon. Mehbe dis fellow, he fallin’ off an’ he boat go on de reef.”
“Can you tell if there’s anyone on the boat?”
“Too far. All I see is de main and jib up. Should be sailin’ fast wid de wind in de sail like dat, but de boat she don’t move. Got to be on de bottom, mon.”
“That’s got to be it!” Mindy said. “If the guy on the island has a life jacket, he’s bound to be a sailor. He must have fallen overboard. We can’t just leave him. He’ll die on that little island. There’s nothing there. I’ll bet he’s already suffering from thirst.”
&n
bsp; “Lotta people dem dyin’ dese days, you know. Can’t help dem all. Too many.”
“We would have died too, if not for you, Scully. You helped us. Now I want to help someone else. Maybe just for the good karma, I don’t know. Besides, this man is clearly a sailor, just like us. Maybe we can take him to his boat.”
“If de boat she hard aground, not gonna get it off wid only dis little boat an’ no diesel to pull.”
“Yeah, but even if we can’t, he’ll have a chance of survival on his boat. You know he won’t last long on that little island,” Thomas said.
Scully thought about what they were saying. His life just kept getting more complicated, but helping Thomas and Mindy had proven beneficial to him in the long run. He was here at least; in the island chain that he knew was Larry’s eventual destination. And he would certainly not be here now if not for Thomas and Mindy. He shrugged his shoulders and handed the binoculars to her. It wouldn’t hurt to at least sail closer and see what the situation was. The AK was close at hand if it were indeed some kind of a trap, but Scully didn’t think it was. From everything he’d seen, it was pretty obvious what had happened here. He asked Mindy to keep an eye on the man with the binoculars while he steered closer to see if they could find a place to anchor near the island.
Shallow sandy flats extended a good two hundred yards out from the beach though, and between that area and deep water was a line of reefs with a light surf break. There would be no way to get any closer with Intrepida, so Scully headed up into the wind while Thomas dropped the sails. Scully then set the anchor just outside the surf zone. From this point they could hear the man on the island calling out to them to please help him.
“Okay, I goin’ in de kayak an’ see what he say. I can pick him up an’ bring him back to de boat if everyt’ing okay. You both need watchin’ what he doin’ an’ look for trouble. Don’t t’ink it’s gonna be a problem but you can’t be too careful, you know.”
Scully pulled the kayak alongside Intrepida and stepped in, putting the AK in the cockpit between his feet before Thomas passed him his paddle and he set off for the island. The surf between him and the beach was an obstacle, but he was able to read the waves to pick a route through a cut in the reef and soon reached the calm shallows inside. The stranded man had limped to the water’s edge to greet him before he could step out of the kayak.
“Man! Am I ever glad to see you! I didn’t expect another sailboat to come along way out here anytime soon, much less today.”
“What happen, mon? How you end up on dis island wid no boat?”
“That’s my boat out there! And my daughter is alone on board! We were sailing past this island late yesterday when the boat jibed and I got hit in the head with the boom.” The man pointed to a large knot on the side of his head. “I’m lucky to be alive, I tell you that. If I hadn’t been wearing this automatic PFD I’m sure I would have drowned. It was a nice bit of luck this island happened to be here too. My daughter was down below when it happened, and I guess she didn’t even know at first. When I finally made it to the beach I saw that she had run aground way down there,” the man pointed at the boat again. “She’s only 14. There’s no way she could get it off herself and no telling how bad it’s stuck. We lost our dinghy too, a long time ago, so she has no way off the boat to come get me. Man, I was just thinking about trying to swim for it today until I saw your sail out there this morning. I doubt I would have made it between the currents and the sharks, but I know I wouldn’t last long here on this rock either and I can’t leave her out there alone.”
Scully considered what the man was telling him. He didn’t really look old enough to have a 14-year-old daughter, but perhaps he married really young. No matter about that, his story seemed to add up. The boat was there all right, in plain sight, and here he was on the island with an inflatable PFD. Scully could see that his legs and feet were badly slashed and scraped from being swept across the reef, which was why he was limping and grimacing in pain. It would be a simple matter to take him back to his vessel and reunite him with his daughter, but Scully doubted they could do much for him when it came to freeing his boat. If it was truly hard aground then that’s where it would stay, but at least the two of them would be together and would have food and water until whatever provisions they had aboard ran out.
“Okay mon, I take you back.” Scully pointed to the front seat in the tandem kayak. “Push it out some, an’ hop inside mon.”
“Dude, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it! Today is my lucky day, even if yesterday was my unluckiest!”
Scully slipped the kayak back through the cut in the reef and aimed for Intrepida, where Thomas and Mindy were anxiously waiting in the cockpit.
“Whoa, that’s a little boat, man! Three of you are sailing in that? Where did you come from man?”
“De boat little, but she a good one, mon. We sailin’ from Florida.”
Scully knew it would seem even smaller with a forth person on board, even for the short sail to the grounded boat. But he also thought this man should keep his mouth shut and be grateful for the ride, no matter how small the boat.
When they pulled alongside, Thomas and Mindy welcomed him aboard and Scully introduced them as the man climbed out, repeating the story he’d told Scully.
“Russell,” he said. “My name’s Russell. You guys are braver than I am, sailing all the way from Florida in a boat like this.”
“It was better than the alternative,” Thomas said. “Florida is not a place you want to be right now.”
“Tell me about it. I was just trying to convince some friends of that recently. I wouldn’t go there for anything! So what brings you guys all the way out here to the Jumentos Cays? This place sure isn’t on the way to anywhere else. Are you just looking for a good refuge, or what?”
“Yes, and our friend Scully here is looking for his friends. They were all headed here to these islands on two different boats, but they got separated and delayed and now he’s trying to find them. Have you seen any other boats here?”
“No, but my daughter and I just arrived the morning before this happened. What kind of boats are your friends sailing?” Russell asked, turning to Scully.
“One, she a 37-foot monohull. Built by de company dem call Tartan. De otha one she a Wharram catamaran—36 feet. My friend Larry an’ I we build dat one on the de beach in Culebra.”
Russell had a strange look on his face for a second as he took this in, but then he just looked back in the direction of his boat before replying. “I’d guess there must be plenty of monohulls that size around the islands, but Wharram catamarans are kind of rare. I know of them. I’ve seen a few over the years. Funky boats and not my style, but I haven’t seen one since the collapse. Maybe you’ll run across them somewhere out here, though.”
Thirty
EVERYONE ABOARD THE CASEY Nicole was awake and ready when the tide peaked at around 3:00 a.m. This time Artie was at the big winch while Grant, Casey and Tara were all in the water at the bows, pushing as hard as they could while Artie cranked up tension on the rode. At first it seemed nothing was going to happen, but then it moved a little, and then a little more. There was just enough water to lift the knifelike keels out of the deep sand and once it started going, the catamaran slid backwards until she was completely afloat once again.
“ALL RIGHT!” Artie shouted. “Let’s get that anchor up and get out of here!”
Tara climbed back on board first, and Artie saw Grant lift Casey up before coming aboard himself. Tara had been a nervous wreck all night, pacing back and forth and trying the windlass to no avail, too impatient to wait on the tide. Artie had been holding it together himself, though he was just as worried for Larry and Jessica as he was for Rebecca. Actually, he was more worried for them. Seeing the two Bahamian men in the dinghy did not bode well for his brother’s well being. Artie knew Larry wouldn’t give that boat up without a fight. Rebecca was in the hands of an idiot, but he didn’t have any real reason to kill her and
probably didn’t want to, if he could avoid it. But Artie had to face the reality that his brother and poor Jessica may already be dead. If those men had wanted her, she would have been in the dinghy with them. Since she wasn’t, she may have met the same fate as Larry.
“It’s still nearly three hours until daylight,” Grant said.
“I know. We can’t really sail into the harbor at Staniel Cay in the dark. There’ll be too many boats, if it’s anything like Larry said it would be. No one is going to want to talk to us at this hour and they may see us as a threat if we go sailing in there at night.”
“We can’t just sit around doing nothing for three hours,” Tara said.
“No. We can sail closer to the harbor. Maybe look around some of the outlying areas, but it’s going to be hard to see anything in the dark anyway. It’s not worth the risk to run aground again and next time it may not be soft sand we hit. You know as well as I do there are reefs everywhere around here. Believe me, I want answers just like you do. I want to find out as soon as possible if anyone around here saw Larry and Jessica and might know where they ran into those two guys.”
“I hope they just went ashore and the boat got stolen then,” Casey said. “If so, maybe they are waiting on us to come pick them up. Like you said, maybe they found that house Russell was talking about and went to check it out.”
“I hope you’re right, Casey. And I hope we find the Sarah J. and Rebecca there as well.”
It was just a short sail to Staniel Cay and they dropped the anchor again to wait on the daylight before entering. The wind was light when morning came and with full sails up they were barely ghosting along as they cruised into the crowded anchorage. Many of the occupants of the boats there were awake and on deck, watching them and unsure what to make of the strange catamaran arriving so early in the morning.
Landfall: Islands in the Aftermath Page 18
