November-Charlie

by Clare Revell

  He dug his fork into his sausage and sawing a piece off, raised it to his mouth. He chewed in silence then said, “Not bad. Not good, but not bad. I especially like the crunchy bits.”

  After the meal, Lou lay on her bunk and closed her eyes. Her head ached. As she listened to Staci singing, she thought how nice it was to be at sea. One could do what one wanted when one wanted to. So long as Captain Jim agreed, that was.

  Lou pushed back into the pillows and listened.

  Staci’s singing about waves filtered from the galley.

  When she finished, Jim yelled “Very apt Stace.”

  “Glad you like it,” came the reply.

  Lou closed her eyes and with the gentle rocking of the boat and Staci’s singing she went to sleep.

  When she woke, it was dark. From the galley came the sounds of plates and cups being put away.

  Jim stood in the doorway. He smiled. “Hello, dreamer.”

  “What time is it?” Lou asked, struggling to sit up, her head thumping.

  “Just gone ten. We’ve had supper. We tried waiting but it was impossible. Do you want anything?”

  “Cup of tea, please. I should be on the bridge.”

  “You’re OK for a minute.”

  Jim soon returned with the tea. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” Lou smiled and took a mouthful of the tea. “Sorry I slept so long.”

  Jim sat on the edge of the bed. “That’s OK.”

  They listened to Staci singing.

  “She’s happy even if no one else is,” Lou said.

  “Speak for yourself, I’m happy.”

  “You know what I mean. What’s the weather forecast?”

  “Good. Overcast, possible rain, moderate south-south westerly winds.”

  “Maybe you should listen to the shipping forecast once in a while.”

  “I did. No nasty storms forecast, just nice ones.”

  Lou swung her legs over the edge of the bunk. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

  Jim looked closely at her. “Are you OK?”

  “Got a headache.”

  “Back to bed then.”

  “No. You need to sleep. You’ve been up all day.”

  “I can manage. The autopilot’s on, so I can grab a few minutes now and then. You take your tablets and sleep. You can sail tomorrow if your headache has gone. Captain’s orders.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Lou took the pills, gratefully got back under the duvet and closed her eyes.

  ~*~

  Jim watched Lou worriedly for a while, then went back up to the bridge where Staci waited.

  “Hiya,” she said. “Nice sleep?”

  “I wish, kiddo.”

  Staci turned. “I thought you were Lou.”

  “She’s got a headache. I told her to stay in bed.”

  “You can’t sail all night as well.”

  “Single handers do it all the time. I’ll be fine.”

  Staci looked worried. “Jim, what if one of us gets sick? What if she’s really ill?”

  “We’ll head for the nearest port. They do have hospitals in Europe. Look, it won’t happen, OK? It’s just a headache. She’ll be fine. Go to bed.”

  “OK. See you in the morning.”

  “Night, kiddo.”

  ~*~

  When Staci arrived on the bridge at 4:30 AM, Jim was almost dropping.

  “Lie down and sleep,” she told him. “I’ll watch for a bit.”

  “It’s dark still. I can’t leave you alone.”

  “It’ll be light in about twenty minutes. Anyway, the autopilot does all the work. Besides, if you sleep on the bridge I won’t be alone, will I?”

  “Guess not. OK, then. Five minutes.”

  Jim stirred as the radar warning bleeped. He opened his eyes, his vision blurred, and glanced over at his sister.

  She seemed to be handling things.

  The alarm sounded again, and he sat up.

  Lou appeared beside him.

  He started to get up, but Lou pushed him down.

  “She’s doing OK,” she whispered.

  Slowly Staci moved Avon onto a new heading and passed another boat safely. Then she turned the wheel to the right and put Avon back on to the original course heading. She engaged the autopilot, let go of the wheel and sighed with relief.

  Jim and Lou started clapping.

  “Well done, kiddo.”

  “How long have you two been sitting there?”

  “I woke as soon as the radar proximity warning went off. Lou came up soon after. You seemed to be handling things OK so we decided to watch.”

  “You rat.”

  Lou looked at her. “Hey, that’s not nice. The rats wouldn’t like being compared to Jim, at all.”

  “How’s your headache?”

  “Better, thanks.”

  “I’m off to bed then,” Jim yawned. “I’ll make some tea en route though.” He knew from looking at Lou, the headache wasn’t gone. But if she thought she could manage, then he wouldn’t stop her. That was just asking for trouble he didn’t need right now. Jim brought her some tea and then went back below. He lay on his bed and closed his eyes.

  Staci came in. “Jim?”

  “I was the last time I checked.”

  “Fool boy.” She sat on the bed next to him. “Do you know what the day after tomorrow is?”

  “Saturday.” Jim forced his eyes open and looked at her.

  “The date, silly, not the day.”

  “Um, fourteenth, I think.”

  “And?”

  “It’s Lou’s birthday.”

  Jim sat up. “Oh.”

  “What are we going to do? I haven’t got her a card or anything.”

  “You can make a card and a cake.”

  “It’s not the same though. You have to have presents.”

  “We’ll think of something, don’t worry.”

  8

  The afternoon sun shone strongly through the windows. The sea was calm and the sails flapped in the breeze. As she put the kettle on, Lou heard Staci singing above her. She glanced at the calendar on the wall. Red crosses marked off the days since they had left.

  A question mark was placed on June seventeenth as that was when Jim reckoned they would reach the Canaries. Two days until her birthday. So much for presents and parties and cake this year. Still, part of growing up was taking responsibilities for their actions, as her mother kept telling her.

  Two days until she hit the big sixteen. Why was it that at one point being twelve seemed grown up, then when one got to twelve one realized it was no different to being eleven? Then sixteen is the next milestone. Probably no different to fifteen, but there was all this fuss over it. Make the right choices and life will fall at my feet. Hah. In my dreams, perhaps.

  The kettle boiled and she made the tea. Putting it in perspective, she decided that it made no difference how old one was. At sixteen, she could get married, but she couldn’t drink alcohol at her reception or drive away on honeymoon. At eighteen she could vote. At twenty-one she got the front door key, although most people had it years earlier than that. And at forty, life began. Or so the saying went. So were the years before forty just a dress rehearsal?

  Pouring the tea, she laughed at that thought. She had a badge at home somewhere saying life had no dress rehearsal. Oh, well, in a hundred years’ time who’d care? Life was too short to worry and how had she got from birthdays to the meaning of life, anyway?

  “Jim, cup of tea up here,” she called.

  “Coming.”

  Lou carried hers and Staci’s up to the bridge. “Tea, Stace.”

  “Thanks.”

  Lou looked at her watch. “Four o’clock and my turn.” She changed places at the helm with Staci, who went below to start dinner. Lou perched on the stool Staci had brought up earlier.

  “I thought it looked different up here,” Jim said.

  “Well, we decided that we may as well sit here. Better than standing. Anyway we voted and it was
carried by a unanimous majority of two.”

  ~*~

  Saturday dawned cloudy and wet.

  When Lou woke, Staci was already up. She dressed slowly, trying to put out of her mind that it was her birthday and failing miserably. At home, she thought, she’d get a full English breakfast with the bacon extra crispy, real orange juice with the bits in, hot buttered toast and tea to follow. Then presents.

  She pulled the brush roughly through her hair to get rid of the tangles. No point dwelling on it, you made the decision to leave home, so live with it. Or as Mum always said “you made your bed, now lie in it.”

  Lou put the brush down and made her way up to the galley. No one there.

  The engines chugged in the background so Jim and Staci were around somewhere.

  Deefer came charging in from the deck, barking excitedly.

  “Hey boy,” Lou said, petting him. “I’m pleased to see you, too. Where are the others?” She went up the steps to the bridge. As she reached the top steps, two party poppers exploded, showering her with their contents.

  “Surprise.”

  Lou smiled and looked round in amazement. A huge banner saying “Happy Birthday Lou” hung across the front window.

  “Thank you. I wasn’t expecting anything, never mind all this.”

  “It’s your birthday—we have to celebrate,” Staci told her.

  “Besides,” Jim laughed, “you know me. Any excuse for a party.”

  “Breakfast,” Staci said. “I’ll go organize it.” She disappeared down to the galley.

  Lou took over from Jim and as he left the bridge she looked round again at the decorations. Balloons moved in the breeze as the door was open. She could smell bacon cooking and wondered briefly if it was wishful thinking.

  Fifteen minutes later, Staci came up carrying a tray. “Breakfast, Lou.”

  Lou was greeted with a tray containing a full English breakfast, glass of orange juice, toast and mug of tea. Her eyes filled with tears. “How did you guys know?”

  “Smart guess,” Staci laughed. “Eat while it’s hot. I’ll stand watch for you.”

  Lou took the tray and sat at the chart table with it. She tucked in eagerly. “Are you guys having some?”

  “No. Birthday treat just for you.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair,” Lou said, putting down the knife and fork.

  “It’s perfectly fair,” Jim told her as he came on to the bridge. “We wanted to give you something you wanted for your birthday. Now eat or I shall feed you.”

  “OK.”

  “Toast, Staci?”

  “Thanks. So when do we tell her?”

  Lou looked up. “Tell who what?”

  Jim ignored her. “I think we should wait.”

  “Are you sure? I mean it might be better that she knows.”

  “Tell me what?”

  Staci looked at Jim. “No you’re right—tell her later. Don’t want to ruin her day after all.”

  Lou put down the knife and fork and looked from one to the other. “Will you two cut this out and just tell me?”

  “Later.” Staci and Jim chorused together.

  “Fine, later.” She inhaled deeply, loving the smell of freshly crisped bacon.

  Jim added, “Now be a good girl and finish your breakfast. All good things come to them that wait.”

  Lou finished her breakfast and took over at the helm.

  Jim and Staci made her wait until almost lunchtime before they told her what they had planned.

  That afternoon was the most fun they’d had since they had left home two weeks previously. Jim had planned an extensive list of games—charades, statues, the chocolate game, hunt the monster, bingo, what’s the time Mr. Wolf, and even pass the parcel.

  Lou hadn’t played most of the games for years. Of course, she won pass the parcel— which contained an IOU note for one birthday present in the first place they docked. “Oh, thank you so much,” she said grinning at them.

  Jim hugged her. “You’re welcome. And we haven’t finished yet.”

  “Sorry? You’ve given me so much already. I don’t need anything more.”

  “There’s one thing missing. Something that no party is complete without.” He called down to the galley. “Are you ready, Staci?”

  “Yes,” came the reply.

  “This way then, birthday girl.” He led Lou down to the galley.

  On the table was the cake with sixteen candles burning on the top of it.

  Lou’s eyes filled with tears again and rubbing them fiercely, she blew out her candles.

  “Not crying again?” Jim asked.

  Lou poked her tongue out.

  Jim shook his head and handed Lou the cake knife. “Here, cut this before I die of starvation.”

  “Please?” Lou prompted.

  “Pretty please, with sugar and cherries on the top.” Jim winked.

  “Please would suffice,” Lou said cutting the cake. She cut four pieces and put one down for Deefer. “You don’t get a bigger piece for putting sugar and cherries on the top.”

  “Well, it was worth a try.” Jim sighed.

  After tea, Jim took the leftover cake to the bridge and spread the world map out on the chart table. He called Staci up and distracted Lou from the helm for a while. “We have a decision to make,” he told them. “We’re about to pass Madeira. That puts us about five hundred kilometers from the Canaries. We average about one hundred and fifty a day so we’re about three and a half days away. What we need to decide is where we go.”

  Staci looked puzzled. “The Canaries,” she said.

  “There are several different islands, kiddo. Lanzarote, Tenerife, Gran Canaria, El Hierro, La Gomera and La Palma. The bigger ones are more likely to be dangerous. So I would suggest one of the smaller ones.”

  “I assume it’s just a refuel?” Lou asked. “This is a rescue mission not a holiday, after all.”

  Jim nodded. “Maybe a day, but no more. I want to keep going.”

  “How about La Palma? It’s not as big as the others. Jenna from school went there last year. She said it was really pretty.” Lou was quite enthusiastic.

  “Sounds good. Is there much to see?”

  “A national park, several volcanoes. One erupted fairly recently.”

  “I hope they don’t erupt again next week then.” Jim said.

  “Next week?”

  “Yeah kiddo. Tuesday give or take. Weren’t you listening just now when I explained our speed and position?”

  “Course I was. It’s just...next week.”

  “We sleep on the boat though. Can’t afford to splurge.”

  Lou glanced at the controls and flicked on the running lights. “Yes, Daddy. Like you said, it’s the one night.”

  Jim nodded. “The priorities are food and fuel. We have two fuel tanks and we also need the spare cans topped up too.”

  “Not expecting bad weather are you?”

  “No, just being cautious. Can I have some more cake, please?”

  “Here, help yourself.” Lou pushed the plate over to him.

  While they had been talking night had fallen and it was cold.

  She went below and made more tea. Taking it up to the bridge, she discovered Jim still hunched over the map. “Are you two still at it? It’s getting late.”

  Jim looked up. It was totally dark outside. To the port side there was a faint glow. “That must be Madeira.”

  “No it’s not. It’s a piece of cake,” Lou told him.

  Jim groaned.

  Lou looked at Jim. “I’ve just had a thought. Do we need visas for La Palma?”

  “No, just a valid passport.”

  “We don’t have visas?” Staci asked. “I thought they came with the passports.”

  “No, you apply for them separately before you go on holiday,” Jim told her. “You need them for Australia, America...” His voice tailed off and he looked at Lou.

  “What is it?”

  “Philippines...” he whispered.
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  “What are you twittering on about?” Staci frowned.

  “Nothing, kiddo. It’s bedtime for both of you. I’ll clear up.”

  “Night,” Staci yawned.

  Lou sighed. “Sixteen and still being sent to bed early.”

  “Early? It’s ten thirty and my watch, so get away from my helm, get off my bridge, and go to bed. I’ll see you at two.”

  “Aye, aye, Cap’n. Thanks for today, guys. It‘s been really good. Night.”

  ~*~

  The girls went below.

  Jim cleared up and then settled on the stool at the helm. Again, he wondered why they hadn’t done it before. It was heaps better than literally standing watch all the time.

  He liked the night watch. It was quiet. The radio was on almost constantly during the day, with one or both girls singing along to it. If it wasn’t the radio then it was the CD deck or the songs on their phones.

  Occasionally, Deefer would come up to see him, but he was definitely a one-woman dog. Totally devoted to Lou, he hardly ever left her side. Deefer had his own passport, which proved he was up to date with all his vaccinations. Even then, if they were away too long, he may need to go into quarantine for six months on their return.

  The rain finally stopped and clouds began to break. A full moon peeped through, casting its silvery light upon the vast ocean.

  They had been blessed with good weather. Even when it had rained, the sea had remained calm. Considering it was hurricane season, they had had no storms at all.

  He didn’t believe for one minute that they would get all the way across the Atlantic without encountering any really nasty weather.

  The last few clouds moved away, leaving a star studded sky. This was the best thing about the night watch, Jim decided. He checked the instruments carefully, then leaving the bridge door open, climbed down the ladder to the deck. He stood on the bow pulpit looking up at the stars, naming the constellations. He would love to sail among the stars, join NASA and explore all those strange places just waiting for him to discover.

  Cold now, he went back inside and checked the instruments. He sat on the stool and looked out at the stars again. It really was a beautiful sight. All those hundreds of thousands of tiny twinkling pinpricks of light were thousands, if not millions, of light years away. Each a separate world, probably populated by people doing the same sort of things that people on this planet did.