SURVIVING ABE: A Climate-Fiction Novel (33 page)

"Best way to keep a cook happy
and more food coming is the smell of dish soap on someone else's hands."

"All of us that would rather not cook would do well remembering that bit of wisdom."

"File it under Domestic-Rules-of-Engagement.  How are you getting along with Gus?"

"He's fine
, and he's been a gentleman.  It's stupid even to me, but every time I see him it brings up Mom's death.  I want to blame him for not saving her."

"There
have been more times than I care to admit that not getting what I wanted turned out later to be a good thing.  As the daughter of Con I'm sure you've been introduced to the difference between needs and wants.  'Don't let unrealistic wants get in the way of your needs,' are her words I think.  Right now you and I need Gus, just as he needs us.  We, all three of us,
need
each other to survive.  I've known of him by reputation for years, and he's built a good reputation in a tough crowd.  Con wouldn't blame him, and I'm positive she wouldn't want you to."

"You're right about that, I could tell Mom liked him from the start.  Maybe the changes and shocks to my system, going from a heat wave to
getting stranded in a winter storm, and then witnessing Mom's death, has me more addled than usual.  Do you think things will ever get back to normal, Hank?"

"A week ago when the rain started I thought how wonderful for our drought.  This rain starting tonight fills me with dread that it will turn to snow like the last time.  If it does, it will be the equivalent of stomping and kicking us after we’re already down for the count.  Things will get back to normal, but it might be a new normal and take more time than we like."

"I think so too, the old status quo just suffered a blow to its underpinnings.  The Earth is averaging one of these super storms every year or so.  When one comes to your neighborhood it changes your priorities.  After this week I'd rather have a set of long underwear and a warm pair of socks than the latest laptop and smart phone I was planning on getting."

Ela
got up from the kitchen table and wandered to her spot next to the window, she watched the rain blowing against the glass, glad to be on the dry side.

~~~

In the shop Gus found the cistern two-thirds full, more than enough for a day or two of water in the house, so he shut down the generator to conserve the limited amount of gas he'd found.  It looked like Al had a manual pump set up to fill the cistern, in addition to the electrical pump, so they could have water without using the generator if they had to.  He thought about trying to get the generator up to the house, but decided against it.  The house had running water, heat from the woodstove, and kerosene lanterns in every room for light.  Al and Beth had designed the house to be functional without electricity, even down to the propane stove and refrigerator.

The loud drumming of rain on the metal roof masked hearing anything else, so Gus went outside and stood in the shop's rain shadow.  In the reduced background noise he concentrated on the sounds of the world for a few moments, without hearing anything unnatural.  With
the reduced visibility and the suppression of sound due to the rain, Gus realized it would be possible for someone to get close to him undetected.  He retrieved the shotgun from inside and decided he needed to get used to being armed with it, to the point of feeling naked without it.

Protected from the rain on the north and east sides of the shop, he moved from one side to the other.  The random walking helped reduce his stress level much better tha
n just standing in one place.  However, his premonition of trouble gave him a dry mouth as the drizzling rain began to crystallize into flakes of snow
.

Eric sat in the corner of the cockpit, mainly trying to stay out of the way.  He watched Tess raise the mainsail about halfway and then adjust the tension with some smaller ropes that affected how flatly she could stretch the triangle-shaped sail.  Then she unrolled the sail on the front of the boat, which flapped hard enough for a moment to shake the whole vessel.  Tess pushed past him with a length of stainless steel, plugging it into the top of a vertical stainless steel spool, which Eric now recognized as a winch.  A thick rope from the corner of the flapping sail looped around the winch.

Hand over hand she took up the rope's slack, then grabbed the winch handle
and quickly cranked the rope in until the sail quit flapping.  By reversing the direction that she cranked the winch it shifted into a lower gear, putting incredible tension on the rope that pulled the sail in against the force of the wind; the rope between the winch and sail appeared to be as hard and unyielding as a steel bar.

A screeching sound from the straining rope, as it coiled around the stainless steel drum, rose in pitch until she stopped cranking.  She watched the sail for a moment and let out a few inches of rope.  Apparently satisfied with the sail's behavior, she removed the winch handle and moved back to the helm to check the boat's heading.

Noting that Tess accomplished the task of raising one sail, unfurling the other, and then trimming both without breathing hard, Eric began to get a better understanding of her physical strength and conditioning.  At that moment he doubted anything would faze her.  To him she embodied the invincible traits he imagined a sea captain would have.

The boat heeled and he could hear the water rushing past Robin's hull.  Tess pulled the winch handle out of its sheath, where she'd just stowed it, put it in a smaller winch by the companionway and cranked that winch, while watching the sail directl
y above her.  She stepped to the helm and adjusted the heading once again, then she focused on the knot meter to confirm that her sail trimming had increased the boat's speed.  Once she appeared satisfied with the heading, she leaned out of the cockpit, stretching to look under the sail at the water ahead of them.  Sitting back on the stern seat she looked up to see Eric watching her.

"That was pretty amazing, like watching a musician tuning a twelve-string guitar.  I've been on ships and powerboats, but never a sailboat, it feels alive."

"She.  Sailboats are female.  I'm convinced Robin is alive, so mind your tongue.  She is listening to and remembering every word you say."

"That's funny, this is the first time in years I haven't been recording everything that's being said around me.  I had a sort of memorial service for all my electronic devices that just died; then I smashed all of them with the tractor and buried what was left.  It felt very liberating."

"Come over here and steer.  See the navigation markers?  The red ones are shaped like converted cones and the green ones are shaped liked cylindrical cans."

"Got 'em."

"The channel we need to follow is between them.  Even though there is a lot of water out there, much of it is too shallow to navigate, so we need to stay in the channel.  Leave the red cones to port, the left side.  Watch behind as well as ahead, and stay in the middle of the channel.  It's simple, I gotta go below for a minute."

"Seriously?" he asked.

" 'Aye, aye, Capt'n' is the only appropriate response for a stowaway trying to make deckhand."

In the cabin Tess tried the radios again and foun
d them still jammed with static, no help there.  That meant she needed to figure out the weather they were likely to experience and make a plan on her own.  Taking into account the current local conditions and where she guessed the advancing cold front was, she knew they would have adverse winds for the rest of the day.

Tess realized that if she wanted to make the C&D Canal in the near future she would need to use the engine.  By sailing while runn
ing the motor, she could keep the diesel motor at a fuel-saving rpm and still make good time to the canal.

It had taken her fifteen minutes to gather her thoughts and use the head, about the time limit she felt comfortable with in leaving Eric alone in the cockpit.  It was about the same amount of time it took from first spotting an approach
ing vessel on a crossing path and getting uncomfortably close to it.  Time to check for other boats to see if they were about to be run over.

After doing a 360-degree scan when she first stepped into the cockpit, Tess looked at Eric who was standing at the helm expectantly.  "We've got traffic both crossing and overtaking, what's your plan?"

"Miss 'em both," Eric said, turning to look behind them.  "I was watching the boat crossing and I think he'll cross in front of us.  I didn't know about the one behind us."

"Did you take a bearing on the one crossing?"

"No, I don't know what you mean."

Tess stepped to the compass mounted just in front of the helm.  "You look across the compass at the crossing vessel and get a compass bearing to it.  Give it a minute or two and take another bearing, if the bearing isn't changing a collision will result.  If the bearing is changing closer to the bow then the vessel will cross in front.  Got it?"

"Yes."

"Take a bearing then," Tess said, doing the same by watching the crossing vessel's progress by using one of Robin's bimini supports
, in the same manner she would use a tree to gauge cloud movement.

"Okay, that boat will cross in front of us.  What do I do about the one coming up behind?"

"Nothing since he has plenty of room to pass.  If we were in a tight channel, like the canal we're approaching, a pass would be arranged by VHF radio or whistle signals.  If a faster boat comes up behind us in the canal and we hear one short blast of his horn, it means he intents to pass on our right, or starboard side, two blasts means on our port side.  If for any reason it is unsafe to pass we would sound three blasts to warn them."

"You're driving when we get to the canal, right?"

"We'll see, you're doing just fine, and it's good practice."

The overtaking boat went by and its bow wave rolled toward them.  Tess did another quick scan for traffic and found none closing on them.  "See that wake coming toward us?"

"Yes."

"Just b
efore it gets here turn into it, and cross it at something close to a 45-degree angle, then get back on course."

Eric complied and Robin's bow
sliced through the wave easily.  "That's a neat trick.  It's meant to keep us from rolling side-to-side right?"

"Right.  Have you found the next channel marker physicall
y as well as on the paper chart?"

"I see it,
" Eric said after leaning out of the cockpit and studying the waters ahead.

"O
ur government needs to figure out how to defend against cyber attacks and get the GPS system operational again, it makes navigating so much easier.  Until then that's what those binoculars are for.  Get used to finding the next marker ahead of us before you lose sight of the one behind us.  That way you'll also know if the current is pushing us to the side."

Eric got busy looking ahead and behind through the binoculars, the
n comparing that to the chart.  Tess gave him time to figure out if what he was seeing agreed with the paper chart.  After a few double takes and head scratching, a smile from Eric indicated to Tess that he finally understood.

"Thank you.  I think I get it, but let me run through it and have you corr
ect me.  The idea is to first pick out the markers by eyeball and then transpose what you see to the paper chart?"

"Correct.  I keep a chartbook of paper
charts just in case the electronics fail.  Plus the government can, and has, shut down the GPS signals in the past, just like now.  On a boat, having systems in place that aren't dependent on anything to do with electrical power is prudent."

"
Being less dependent is proving to be important no matter where you live, if you want to live.  Just when society became totally dependent on modern conveniences, some bastard figured out a way to deprive us of anything we cannot provide for ourselves, or so it seems."

Tess had been looking at the sails and reading the instruments while Eric talked.
  Though she heard what he said it didn't have any bearing on moving Robin, so she didn't respond to it and changed the subject back to more pressing matters.  "We're not making much progress toward where we need to go, and the next course change will make it worse.  I'm going to start the engine and motor sail.  I'm betting it's more important to burn some diesel now to get through the canal, than it might be later on during the voyage.  Your thoughts?"

"I'm not sure what our needs will be a week from now at sea, but I'm sure that we have a finite window to seize the opportunity allowing us to go to sea to find out.  No matter what else happens, I suspect freedom of movement will get more restricted.  It wouldn't surprise me if the Coast Guard
, or somebody else, stops us before we get offshore.  They've got to be looking for 'domestic eco-terrorists,' or whatever they are calling anyone suspected of shooting transformers and antennas.  Let's get through the canal while the getting is still possible."

Tess nodded then reached down and started the main diesel engine.  Once it came to life she leaned over the stern
, to verify that sufficient cooling water was coming out of the exhaust, then she put the transmission in forward.  She smoothly increased the engine rpm to 1500 and then watched the knot meter.  Robin's speed through the water accelerated and then stayed above six knots even during the wind lulls; feeling satisfied Tess left the throttle where it was.

"Next, we're going to roll in the headsail and just use the main for now.  By doing that we are more maneuverable in the narrowing channel as we approach the canal.  At this rpm motor sailing is pretty economical for Robin, we will burn less than half a gallon of diesel per hour."

"It's good for a boat to get twelve nautical miles to a gallon of fuel?"

"You would be amazed at how much diesel powerboats, like the one that anchored in your backyard, burn at cruising speed.  They have twin diesels and each will burn at least ten gallons an hour."

"Twenty gallons of diesel to move the boat how far?"

"Ten to fifteen nautical miles probably.  I'm basing this on what I've seen at fuel docks.  Those big power yachts take on hundreds of gallons every day on the way down the Intracoastal Waterway.  Before topping off Robin's tank with your spare fuel, I last filled up in Maine, which is one reason I chose sailing as a sport to pursue."

"I can see I need to get out more.  I've been so tied to a monitor and a keyboard while navigating the virtual world, I have a skewed idea of the real world."

"I had this conversation with myself just recently.  Be warned that reality has a way of interrupting complacency at the absolute worst time possible."

"Yeah, like a tornado cutting in on a perfectly good dream in the middle of the morning," Eric said, remembering his most recent reality check.