Devil's Rock - Chris Speyer [83]
‘No, it’s just . . . Hey! Not so fast!’
The launch was pointed straight at Morveren and in another minute would hit her at full speed. Zaki leapt for the controls, swung the engine into reverse to take off speed and pushed the tiller over. He held his breath. The launch slowed and came to rest alongside the yacht.
‘You could have told me to do that!’
‘Yeah – right,’ said Zaki and remembered he needed to breathe.
Anusha scrambled out of the launch and stood looking down from the yacht’s deck.
‘Just tell me what I need to do.’
‘You can start by getting the sail-cover off the main.’
Anusha set to work while Zaki made the launch fast to Morveren’s mooring then he too climbed aboard. There was a set of keys to the yacht on Grandad’s bunch of boat keys. While he opened up the cabin, Zaki kept thinking, This is not a good idea, this is not a good idea. He thought about what his father would say, what his Grandad would say. Anusha didn’t know anything about the sea. He should tell her that they weren’t going; that they couldn’t do it. But what about Michael? What would happen to Michael if they did nothing? It’s my fault, thought Zaki. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t gone into the cave – if I hadn’t picked up the bracelet . . .
‘What now?’ Anusha’s shout brought him back to the job at hand.
‘We’ll put the sails up when we’re under way. Better put some oilies on.’ He dived into the cabin and returned with two sets of wet-weather gear. Once they were dressed, Zaki started the engine and sent Anusha forward to cast off.
‘Can you take her, please,’ he asked as Anusha returned. ‘I want to get a forecast.’ He pointed out the port and starboard channel marks off Black Rock and the Wolf Rock buoy then handed over the helm and went below to the radio. They’d missed the Brixham coastguard’s forecast, so he selected channel 12 and called the harbour office. They shouldn’t be too busy at this time of year, he reasoned, and anyway, everyone knew Morveren.
‘Salcombe Harbour, Salcombe Harbour, Salcombe Harbour, this is Morveren, Morveren, Morveren – over.’
‘Morveren – Salcombe Harbour. Over.’
‘Can I have a forecast? Over.’
He got a pad and pen ready and jotted down the details as they were read out.
g
Wind south veering south-west 5 to 6,
increasing 7 to gale 8 later.
Weather fair – rain later.
Visibility good.
Sea moderate to rough.
‘Over.’
‘Thank you, Salcombe Harbour, out.’
He retuned the radio to listen out on channel 16 and went up on deck. As Morveren came out from behind the shelter of Black Rock, she lifted her bow to the first of the swells. They needed to get the mainsail up before they reached the rough water over the bar, and they’d need to sail fast to have any hope of catching Curlew. Having hoisted the mainsail, he took over the helm. They were heading dead into the wind. They’d be better off motoring until they rounded the point and turned west.
‘Better clip on. If you go over the side, you’ll stay attached to the boat.’ Zaki clipped his own lifeline on and showed Anusha how to attach hers. He studied her face to see how she was coping with the sudden violent pitching of the boat as they entered the steep chop over the bar.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fine,’ Anusha replied, a little too earnestly.
When they were clear of the Little Mew Stone, Zaki eased the mainsail and turned away from the wind. Morveren heeled and picked up speed as the sail filled. Now they were no longer butting straight into the swell and they had the wind in the sail to steady them, the motion of the boat was much more comfortable. He knew the passage to the Orme off by heart and set a course that would take them straight across Bigbury Bay. ‘Time to set the foresail,’ Zaki said. ‘You let this line out while I winch in the sheet. OK! Slowly now!’
Morveren pushed up a foaming white wave and powered through the swell. Zaki cut the motor – they’d go just as fast without it – and for a moment he allowed himself to enjoy the familiar thrill of boat, wind and water.
But this was no pleasure trip. Zaki scanned the sea