  “Everything all clear?” Mr. Brewster called out from his position at the tiller in the yawl, Easy Action. “Aye, aye, sir,” Biff called back to his father. Biff held on to the bow line, loosely circled over a piling at the dock. “Cast off, then,” Tom Brewster ordered. Biff flicked the rope, snaking it over the piling, as the Easy Action was cleared. Biff heard the low growl of the reverse gear as his father backed easily away from the wharf. A shift to forward, the engine revved up higher, and the yawl headed out of the harbor at Hana. It was a clear night, bright stars lighting up the skies over the Hawaiian Islands. A slight sliver of a new moon could just be seen rising in the east. The yawl ran on its auxiliary engine for fifteen minutes, putting the harbor behind it. When they were well clear, and in open sea, Mr. Brewster cut the engine. “All hands to,” he called. “Prepare to hoist sail.” A yawl is a fore-and-aft rigged vessel. It has a large mainmast forward, and a much smaller mast set abaft or behind the tiller, or wheel. Hank Mahenili and his son Li had hold of the halyards at the mainmast, ready to pull on the lines to raise the main and jib sails. Biff would handle the mizzen or aft sail by himself. “Heave away, me hearties,” Mr. Brewster ordered. The three “hearties” heaved, and the sails slid up their masts, and billowed gently out, catching a soft, warm wind. The sails were set and trimmed. “Okay, Biff, you take over now.” Biff came into the cockpit and took the tiller over from his father. “Keep her headed as she is now. The compass setting is for Upolu Point. We ought to make it easily by daybreak, and then we’ll cruise the western coast of the Big Island.” “Heading for Ka Lae, Dad?” Biff asked. “That’s right, Biff. Hank and I are going to turn in now. You and Li handle the ten-to-two watch. Wake us up at two, then you boys can grab some sleep.” Li joined Biff in the cockpit. The Easy Action lived up to her name. She slid effortlessly through the water, noiseless except for the soft swish of her bow cleaving a path. The wind held steady. There was nothing to do but hold her on course. “Like sailing, Li?” Biff asked. “It’s the greatest. I’ll take sail over power any day.” Li spoke as if he were an old salt. “Not so good for water skiing, though,” Biff said. “You need more speed for that, quick speed, fast starts.” “Oh, sure. But for a cruise like we’re taking, give me sail.” The boys were quiet. The spell of the night settled over them. Li, Biff knew, dozed off from time to time. He himself felt drowsy, lulled into sleepiness by the slight rise and fall of the craft as it rode over the swells. Biff looked at the luminous dial of his watch. It was nearly twelve o’clock. He nudged the sleeping Li. “Hey, you’re supposed to be on this watch with me. How ’bout taking over for a while?” Li rubbed his eyes, stretched, and yawned. “Aye, aye, Captain.” He took the tiller. Biff stood up, stretched his body, then settled into a more comfortable position. He fought off sleep, but knew he dozed now and again in short, five-minute catnaps. He was never far from consciousness, though. And if anything happened—say a quickening of the wind—he would have been alert immediately. At two o’clock, a widely yawning Tom Brewster emerged from the cabin, followed by Hank Mahenili. “All right, boys. We’ll take over now. Get some sleep. At this steady pace, we’ll reach Upolu long before daylight. We’ll drop anchor, then set out again at daybreak.” Upolu is the northernmost point on the Island of Hawaii. Biff and Li were asleep the moment they hit their berths. It seemed to Biff he had only just gone to sleep when he felt his father shaking his shoulder. “Rise and shine, Biff. Almost daylight. We’re shoving off as soon as we have some grub.” Under a bright morning sun, the Easy Action got under way again. Biff was at the tiller. His father and Hank Mahenili, tired from their early morning watch, dozed on the foredeck in comfortable captain’s chairs. Biff and Li had their work cut out for them. The course set was a zigzag one. They wanted to cruise as much of the coastline as possible in the hope of spotting some sign of Huntington’s sunken sloop. Biff would head the Easy Action off shore, run out nearly ten miles, then tack back in. For every three miles they progressed down the coast toward Ka Lae, the southern tip of Hawaii, they covered nearly twenty miles out and back from the coast. A stiff morning breeze sent the Easy Action skipping briskly over the waves. They had covered a good distance by eight bells, twelve o’clock noon. Biff and Li took turns at the tiller. When Li was the steerer, Biff stood on the highest point of the foredeck, near the ship’s bow, scanning the waters on either side with powerful binoculars. When it was his time to take over the wheel, Li took up the vigil. They reached Kailua on the Kona coast as the sun, like a blazing ball, settled into the Pacific Ocean to the west. They were halfway to Ka Lae, the southern cape. The party went ashore for a steak dinner at the famous Kona Steak House, then came back to their boat filled with food and tired. All turned in at once. No watch was set. None of them saw the black-hulled power cruiser come in and drop its anchor nearby. Then the captain of the cruiser, having spotted the Easy Action, weighed anchor and moved off to an anchorage out of sight from the crew of the yawl. The next morning the search was continued, the yawl weaving its way in and out along the coast, drawing nearer to Ka Lae, nearer to the position at which Huntington had last been heard from. “I’ll take the tiller now, Biff,’” his father said. “Hank and I will alternate. I want you and Li to keep a constant watch. Your young eyes are sharper than ours.” The Easy Action spent the day crisscrossing a wide area of water between the shore line and a distance outside the coral shoals, varying from five to twelve miles. Nightfall found them off Ka Lae, or South Cape. They anchored in thirty feet of clear water, about a quarter of a mile off shore. They could see the white combers lashing at the rocky formation of the beach. “We’ll combine our evening meal with a council of war,” Tom Brewster said, once the ship was made tight for the night. “You figure we’re in the danger area now, Dad?” Biff asked. “Huntington’s sloop is on the bottom of the ocean somewhere in this area.” “And Perez Soto is looking for it just as hard as we are,” Hank Mahenili added. “What about Dr. Weber?” Biff asked. “Do you think he’s aboard Perez Soto’s boat, or do you think he’s being held on shore?” “Hard to say, Biff. My feeling is that he’s being held on shore. A captive on a boat could be too easily spotted at a refueling wharf.” “Don’t you think, Dad, that we ought to divide up now?” Biff suggested. “Two of us make a shore search for Dr. Weber, the other two cruise around and try to spot the sunken sloop?” “Good idea, Biff. We’ll do that tomorrow,” Mr. Brewster agreed. “Hank and I will go ashore. You and Li conduct the sea search.” That suited Biff and Li just fine. They looked at one another and smiled. “Now tonight, I don’t think it’s necessary to have a standing watch. There’s been no sign of Perez Soto so far. But one of us ought to sleep on deck. Any volunteers?” Biff’s father asked. “Me, Dad.” Biff jumped at the chance. “I’d love to. Nice warm night. The sleeping will be better under the stars than it will be in the cabin.” “Okay, let’s all turn in. Big day ahead.” Biff spread out a sleeping bag on the Easy Action’s foredeck. He lay on his back, his eyes staring up and the millions of stars twinkling in the sky overhead. The sound of the surf came distinctly. It was a soothing sound, and shortly Biff was lulled to sleep. Some hours later, he was awakened slowly. He heard the distant throb of a powerful engine. At first, Biff thought it must be an airplane. But then, as he became wider awake, he realized the throbbing came not from the air, but the sea. It grew louder as the craft, whatever it was, drew nearer. Biff sat up, propping himself on one arm. Now there was no mistaking it. A boat, one with a powerful engine, was rapidly approaching the Easy Action’s anchorage. Biff stood up. He peered into the starlight night. He could see the reflection of stars twinkling on the water’s surface. Then he made out the outlines of a cabin cruiser throwing a fan-tail white wake, heading fast toward the Easy Action. “Fools,” Biff muttered to himself, “if they don’t change course, they’ll ram us.” He knew the white-hulled yawl was sharply outlined against the starlit waters. Then he suddenly knew what was happening. The on-charging cruiser was aiming at the yawl. It meant to ram her. Biff raised a cry. It was too late. His voice was drowned out by the roar of the cruiser’s engines—Biff knew now that it was a twin-engined craft. Now the boat seemed on top of the yawl. Its bow, with a much higher freeboard than the low-lying yawl, reared up menacingly only twenty feet from the sailing craft. Surely it would crash them, ram them, send them to the bottom of the sea, with Biff’s father, Hank Mahenili, and Li trapped below. Biff yelled. At the last moment, the cruiser swerved sharply to the starboard, making an almost right-angle turn. It roared alongside the Easy Action, not ten feet separating the two boats. As the cruiser made its fast, skidding turn, it threw up a tremendous wave. Biff saw the wave sweeping toward the yawl. Then, tons of foaming water cascaded over the Easy Action. Biff grabbed for the mainmast, wrapping his arms around it in a death lock. He felt the wave tugging at his body. It took all his strength to prevent being swept overboard. The wave passed on over, tumbling gallons of water into the cabins below. Biff released his grip on the mainmast. He sprinted to the cockpit. It was nearly filled with water. “Dad! Dad! You all right?” He started to plunge into the water-filled cabin and was met by his father, Hank, and Li fighting their way out, gasping for breath, trying to expel water from their choked lungs. The black cruiser had sped away, the throb of its engines barely audible now. Everyone was all right. But what a mess! Bedding was soaked. Galley equipment, pots, pans, dishes had been swept off shelves, some of the pans bobbing like corks in the swirling waters inside the ship’s cabin. Biff went into action. Maybe he could start the engine before the water did its damage. He splashed through the water and reached the engine compartment. He pulled open the door. It had held back the flood from the engine room. Before the water could rush in and fill up that compartment, Biff had the engine going. He quickly turned on the yawl’s sea pumps. He stood there with his fingers crossed, hoping the engine wouldn’t conk out. It didn’t. The heavy-duty pumps worked perfectly. Already the water inside the boat was beginning to recede. Biff joined his father, Hank Mahenili, and Li in the cockpit. They were still dazed and only now beginning to breathe easily. “I thought he was going to ram us, Dad.” Mr. Brewster shook his head. “I get it now,” Biff continued. “To ram us would have damaged his boat—put it out of commission, even if it didn’t sink. He wanted to swamp us.” “And nearly did!” Mr. Mahenili said. The steady beat of the pumps continued. They were rapidly bailing the yawl out. “Well, Biff, you know what we’re really up against now,” his father said seriously. “I think I always did, Dad. This Perez Soto will stop at nothing.” Li sat quietly, but he was shaking as if from a chill. It was the recent frightening experience which caused him to tremble. “Tom, I’ve been in and around water, in and out of boats all my life. But that was the nearest brush I’ve ever had with a watery grave.” Hank Mahenili’s voice was solemn. “He’ll never get away with it,” he added fiercely. The next hour was spent in straightening up the water damage. Bedding was brought on deck and spread to dry. Li was elected cook, to make coffee and hot tea. Dawn was spreading before the Easy Action was shipshape again. After a hot meal, Mr. Brewster took Biff aside. “Biff, we’re not going to let last night’s incident change our plans. Hank and I are going ashore immediately. You and Li put out and start the search at once. We’ve got to stop Perez Soto before he stops us. Come below with me for a moment.” Biff followed his father into the cabin. He saw him open his bag. When he turned around, he was holding a revolver in his hand. “You know how to use this, Biff. You’ve practiced enough.” “Yes, Dad.” “You’re not to use it, except in the most extreme emergency. You’re to use it only to repel anyone trying to board this boat.” Biff nodded his head gravely. Mr. Brewster replaced the weapon and left the cabin to join Hank Mahenili. Biff and Li watched their fathers as they headed for shore in the yawl’s dinghy. |
|
