Devil's Rock - Chris Speyer [30]
‘Now what are you doing?’ called Anusha.
Zaki closed the locker. In the saloon he found an empty carrier bag. He dropped the logbook into it and followed Anusha up on deck. ‘Keep your head down,’ warned Zaki. ‘She might still see us.’
They crouched in the cockpit.
‘What’s that?’ demanded Anusha.
‘One of the logs.’
‘What? You mean you’re going to steal it?’
‘Yes,’ said Zaki simply.
Anusha let out a low groan. ‘Well, how are we going to get off here, anyway?’
It was a good question. It was fifty metres at least to the shore and the girl had the dinghy. Of course they could swim, but it was a ten-mile walk back to the main road from East Portlemouth, it was already getting dark and Zaki wasn’t sure how well he could swim with his injured shoulder. He looked around, hoping for inspiration. His eyes fell on the familiar shape of Morveren tied to her mooring a little to starboard and about six boat-lengths away. If they could get to Morveren, they could use the sailing dinghy that was stored upside down on her deck to get across to Salcombe.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Zaki. ‘You see that yacht there? That’s our boat. If we can get to her, we can get ashore.’
‘So we still have to swim,’ said Anusha gloomily.
‘No, we have to let out the anchor chain,’ said Zaki.
The ebb tide was running quite fast, with the anchor chain let right out, they could use the flow of the tide over the rudder to swing Curlew across to Morveren. At least, that was Zaki’s theory.
They waited until the solitary rower reached the pontoon and then allowed her a few more minutes to tie up her dinghy and go ashore.
‘Come on,’ Zaki said, ‘I’ll need a hand.’
Up on the bow, Zaki opened the hatch over the chainlocker; most of the chain was already out, but there looked to be a good length of anchor rope after the chain. Zaki wished he had two good arms; Anusha would have to do most of the work and Curlew was a heavy boat. He explained what needed to be done and together they began to pay out the anchor, easing Curlew back on the tide until she was lying just forward of Morveren. Zaki peered into the chainlocker; they were almost out of rope. ‘Hold her there,’ said Zaki, ‘I’m going see if I can steer her across.’
He went back to the cockpit and unlashed the tiller, then pushed it over to port. Curlew began to swing to starboard.
‘Let her out slowly!’ called Zaki.
Anusha let out more rope.
‘There’s not much left!’ she called.
Curlew’s stern was now level with Morveren’s bow and three metres to starboard.
‘That’s all the rope – and I can’t hold it much longer!’
Zaki lashed the tiller to port and leapt to the foredeck to help Anusha tie off the anchor rope.
Morveren was tantalisingly close, but still just out of reach.
‘I’m going to try something,’ said Zaki. ‘If I get the boats close enough, can you see if you can get on to Morveren?’
‘I’ll try,’ said Anusha.
Zaki untied the tiller. He put the helm over to starboard and Curlew ‘sailed’ on the tide away from Morveren. When he judged she would go no further, he put the helm over to port and she swung back towards the other boat, gathering momentum like the weight on a pendulum – closer – closer – closer . . .
‘Now!’ shouted Zaki.
Anusha flung herself from the stern of Curlew and landed with her stomach across Morveren’s bowsprit, where she hung precariously, arms and head dangling one side, legs dangling the other as Curlew swung away.
‘Owww!’ She kicked and wriggled until she got one leg over the spar. She sat up grinning and gave Zaki a thumbs-up, then scrambled back to Morveren’s foredeck.
Zaki repeated the manoeuvre and this time, as the gap closed, he tossed a rope to Anusha. With a line across, it was an easy matter to pull the boats together so that they could cross with ease from one to the other. Zaki joined Anusha on Morveren. They unlashed the sailing dinghy from Morveren’s deck, turned it over and heaved it into the water. They’d have to row; the sails were locked up in the cabin. Zaki dropped the oars into