The Other Side of Nowhere (5 page)

Like a sock in a washing machine I was spun through the icy water on the drag of
The Dolphin
’s capsize. Just as it felt like my lungs were crushing, the yacht completed her roll and somehow I found myself still within the cockpit, my hands locked to the guardrail wire. As the yacht righted herself, a torrent of gurgling water rushed away over the sides and threatened to pull me into the angry sea. I roared back and tightened my grip despite the searing pain. As the sea drained off the deck I could see the others – soaked, stunned, gasping for air – but alive.

George was gripping Matt’s life jacket with one hand and the guardrail with the other. She blinked furiously to clear the water from her eyes and managed a bewildered nod as if to say, ‘We’re okay’.

The same couldn’t be said for Nick. He was lying on deck, gripping the wheel fiercely with his good arm. The sinews on his forearm were standing out like rope from the strain of holding on so tight. His face was screwed up and his eyes were half shut. It was obvious he was in a world of pain.

After a quick check to make sure there wasn’t another wave bearing down, I let go and stumbled towards him, grabbing hold of the wheel with one hand and his leg with the other.

‘Nick, you okay?’ I called above the wind.

‘My shoulder,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘It’s stuffed.’

He was slumped over, but even on that angle I could see that his right arm was hanging lower than normal, and looked limp. Too scared and confused to think straight, I turned to get George. She’d know what to do. ‘Can you hold on while I check on the others?’

He grunted.

I made sure he had a steady grip on the wheel with his good arm and then slid across the lurching deck to where George and Matt had tucked themselves up against the cabin. That’s when I noticed that the force of the capsizing had snapped the mast clean off and wrapped it around the side of the boat in a tangle of rigging. I had to duck under a snarl of wire and rope to reach George and Matt. George was still clinging to Matt’s jacket, her white knuckle grip so tight it looked as if she might be strangling him.

‘Are you okay?’

‘I think so,’ George said, her whole body trembling.

‘What happened?’ I asked, remembering George’s yell just before we were hit.

‘Not sure. But there was something … something in the wave,’ she said, shaking her head as if struggling to understand what she had seen. ‘How’s Nick? What’s wrong with his arm?’

‘It’s his shoulder … and it’s bad.’

‘What are we going do?’

As if I had a clue. ‘I was hoping you’d know.’

But George’s face was a blank. ‘God, I don’t know. I guess we have to make sure Nick’s all right. I mean, he’s the only one who really knows what to do.’

The thought terrified me. Nick wasn’t in any shape to be the only one who knew what to do.

‘Okay, yeah,’ I said, trying to sound confident. ‘You just sit tight and whatever you do don’t let go of the rail … or Matt.’

I scrambled back to Nick, who was back on the wheel in spite of his injury, trying to bring
The Dolphin
’s nose around to face the oncoming sea.

‘Give it to me,’ I yelled, taking the wheel from him. ‘George thinks we hit something in the wave.’

Nick said nothing and I shot a glance at him. He looked like he might be about to pass out. ‘Sounded like metal to me,’ he said. ‘Could’ve been a shipping container. They can sit just below the surface, then
bam
.’

I was only half listening, trying to work out what we should do. With the mast broken we had no sail at all, and even though the motor was still chugging away it didn’t seem to be giving us any momentum. The steering was so heavy it felt like we were trying to move through wet cement. No matter how hard I pulled on it, the wheel wouldn’t budge.

‘Nick, I can’t get her to turn.’

‘Get rid of the rigging,’ he grunted.

I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or himself. For a moment he sat quietly, just staring at the floor. Just when I was about to give him a nudge he sat upright and spoke. ‘Go to the cabin. Under the chart table, there’s a toolkit. Should be a tomahawk and a hacksaw in there.’

‘Sure,’ I said, pleased to have some instructions to follow. ‘Don’t go anywhere, all right?’

Nick smiled weakly and took the wheel again. ‘Just hurry, yeah?’

The downstairs cabin was a mess. Food, clothes and rubbish were floating in murky waist-deep water. I wondered for the first time if we were sinking. The thought made my stomach churn, but I tried to put it out of my mind and took a couple of deep breaths, knowing I had to concentrate on the task at hand. I waded into the icy water and over to the chart table. In one quick move I ducked under and found the toolkit. I opened it up on the chart table and grabbed the saw and tomahawk.

‘Cabin’s flooded,’ I told Nick as I stowed the tools in a compartment on deck.

‘Take the wheel,’ he said. Struggling to balance as
The Dolphin
continued to be tossed around wildly, Nick leant precariously over the side of the yacht to take in the damage. The look on his face said it all.

‘We’ve hit something all right. There’s a dirty great hole in the hull. So yep,’ he said matter-of-factly, ‘we’ll be taking on water for sure.’

My heart started thumping fast and hard. I passed the wheel back to Nick and looked over the side, wanting to see the damage myself. From about halfway along the hull all the way to the stern was an ugly jagged tear on
The Dolphin
’s perfect skin, just below the water line.

Up till now everything had been a blur, a surreal craziness with no sense to it, but seeing that damage made the reality of the situation hit home.

I took back the wheel from Nick and asked the only question on my mind. ‘We’re not going to sink, are we?’

Nick didn’t reply. With his good arm he reached down and lifted one of the manhole covers on deck. We could both plainly see water sloshing around in the hold under the deck – even more water than before. Way too much water.

‘What’s going on?’ George shouted, tugging on my arm. Matt was next to her.

Nick looked confused, like he wasn’t sure who George was. ‘Did you get the saw?’ he asked me.

‘Yeah, and the tomahawk.’

‘Okay. You’re gonna have to cut through the wires attached to the mast –’

Even though he was right next to me I couldn’t hear the rest of it over the roar of the waves. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference if I could. I stared at the jumble of ropes and wires spread across the yacht like an upturned bowl of spaghetti. I had no clue where to start and no amount of instruction from Nick was going to change that.

Then George asked such an obvious question I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it. ‘What about the radio? Shouldn’t we send a distress call or something?’

‘Can’t,’ Nick replied. ‘It doesn’t work.’

‘What do you mean?’ George asked.

‘It just doesn’t work,’ he snapped. ‘It’s been busted for a few weeks and I haven’t got round to fixing it, all right?’

‘But your dad said there’s a Sat phone. What about that?’ I asked.

‘It’s down there,’ Nick said through gritted teeth, pointing towards the cabin. ‘It was in my bag on the floor. It’ll be stuffed now.’

For a moment we stood in stunned silence, trying to make sense of what was going on around us. A deep rumble of thunder boomed as a huge flash of lightning spread through the darkening clouds.

I looked down at my watch and suddenly realised things could get much, much worse than they already were. It was nearly six o’clock – soon it would be dark. And what would happen then?

Matt put my worst fears into words. ‘Are we going to die?’ he asked.

Nick flashed him an angry look. ‘Matt, no-one is going to die, all right? We’ve got power and when we get rid of all this drag we’ll be fine.’ He turned and glared at me. ‘So just get on with it.’

I pulled Matt close, hoping he wouldn’t see how scared and clueless I really was, and thrust the tomahawk into his hand. ‘I’ll take the roof. You stay down here. Just cut everything … and for god’s sake, hang on, yeah?’

Matt nodded, blinking hard at me as salt water sprayed into his eyes. I rarely felt like much of a big brother to Matt, but he looked terrified and I knew I had to swallow my own fear for his sake. ‘Matty, we’ll be fine,’ I said firmly. ‘Let’s just get rid of all this rigging so we can get moving again. Okay?’

‘Yeah,’ he replied with an uncertain smile.

‘All right then … let’s do it.’

Leaving the others in the cockpit, I climbed onto the cabin roof and started sawing at the mast wires. Up on the roof, out of the shelter of the cockpit, waves didn’t just wash over you, they smashed you, hard and heavy with a massive
womp
. Wave after wave hit me, allowing only seconds of frantic sawing before I’d have to hug what was left of the mast to avoid being swept away by the force of the water.

It seemed an insane, hopeless task until finally, with burning arms, I pushed the saw through and heard a sharp whip crack as the wire snapped. I jumped out of the way as the mast shifted sharply across the deck and slipped further over the side of the boat. But then it got caught and stuck fast.

‘What the –?’ I roared in a mix of frustration and anger.

I looked back and saw George. She’d taken over the steering and was gripping onto the wheel with both hands, tight-lipped and determined. She gave me a thumbs-up without letting go of the wheel. She could turn it.

I couldn’t help but grin back. Then I turned back to the stubborn mast. Summoning all the energy I had left, I sawed like a machine, pausing only to let each wave wash over. A huge clap of thunder directly overhead pulsed through me as shards of lightning spread through the clouds like veins. Spurred on by the fury all around me, I didn’t stop until the final wire finally snapped. This time the mast shifted massively and disappeared over the side. But when I went to check I could see still, impossibly, it was holding on by a single rope. I slumped onto the cabin roof, completely spent.

In the cockpit, Matt hacked away at the remaining rope with the tomahawk. I watched, admiring his rhythm. His arm arched back then pounded down, over and over. After nearly a dozen blows, the rope frayed then snapped. In an instant the hungry sea swallowed the tangle of mast, wire, rope and sailcloth, and we were free.

‘
Woo hoo
! Way to go, Matt!’ I yelled, punching the air as I slid off the cabin roof and back down into the cockpit. Exhausted, but triumphant, we skidded across the deck to join George and Nick, ‘How’s that?’

‘Better,’ said George, her hands gripped on the wheel. ‘But we’re still drifting. She just won’t go where I want her to.’

At that moment we topped a wave and a beach came into view. It was little more than a ribbon of sand between massive cliffs at one end and a rocky point at the other.

Nick nodded towards it. ‘That’ll have to do,’ he said. It was as if all his optimism had simply got up and left. ‘We’ll get as close to shore as we can and then we’re going to have to swim for it.’

‘
Swim?
There’s no way –’ I started.

Nick interrupted me, ignoring the stunned look on my face. ‘George, you and Matt go below and pack as much stuff as you can into the backpacks. Anything we can use. Water, torches, food, matches, first-aid kit, whatever you can find. And get some rope. And there are some fenders down there, too.’

‘Fenders?’ Matt asked, looking confused.

‘Big rubber pillows that will help us float,’ Nick explained. ‘They’re blue and white. C’mon, just hurry.’

Matt and George obediently scurried toward the cabin steps, bouncing around the deck like a couple of air-hockey pucks as
The Dolphin
bucked wildly. I grabbed hold of the wheel and turned it towards shore, setting a treacherous course across the waves. Nick sat next to me, doubled over and nursing his shoulder.

I was still trying to come to terms with the idea of swimming to shore. But mostly I was worried about Nick. ‘You all right, mate?’

‘Yeah,’ he replied weakly, ‘I’m okay. You?’

‘Good,’ I lied. ‘You sure about swimming? I mean it’s – ’

‘Yep,’ he interrupted without looking up. ‘No choice now.’

I could feel my heart thumping. The thought of jumping into the ocean was just insane. We had barely survived the capsize. I couldn’t for the life of me see how we could swim to shore, especially with Nick’s shoulder busted up. But it was clear he didn’t see any other option, and as I tried in vain to steer
The Dolphin
I realised he was probably right.

Matt appeared with two coils of rope slung across his shoulders and a couple of large rubber fenders in his arms. George was right behind him, lugging two bulging backpacks. She took the wheel as I stuffed a coil of rope into each pack, then put one on and helped her shoulder the other one. The bags were already soaked and weighed a ton.
Trying to swim with this on my back is going to be impossible
, I thought. But there was no time to dwell on that.

Nick grabbed me by the life jacket and pulled me close. ‘It’s going to be ugly in there,’ he yelled into my ear. ‘Who’s the strongest swimmer?’

‘George, I think. Matt and I are about the same.’

Nick beckoned the others over and we gathered around the wheel, leaning in close to hear him. ‘Matt, you go with George. Tie the fender around your waist and share it with her in the water.’

Just then it struck me that Nick didn’t even have a life jacket on. The one he’d dropped at his feet earlier was long gone, washed overboard. He was now slumped against the wheel looking worse by the minute and there was no way I was going to let him get into the water without a jacket on. I slipped off the backpack and my life jacket. Despite his efforts to brush me away I managed to get it on him.

I looked out at the water and knew we were out of time. The current was pushing us across the shoreline and with each wave surge we were edging closer to the rocks at the end of the beach. It was time to jump.

I wanted to make sure that Matt and George got a clean jump, so they had to go first. On impulse, I leant in and, for the first time in as long as I could remember, gave Matt a hug. ‘Stick to George, she’s part fish,’ I managed to say, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice, ‘… and if you get in first you can have the good mattress.’