Through The Storm (7 page)

WAITING FOR
RESCUE

The tent worked
pretty well in the sheltered spot Dean and Arthur had landed in,
although Arthur reckoned it wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes out in
the open. Susan’s teeth were chattering as she huddled under a
corner of the sail.

“I wish we
could start a fire”, she giggled a bit and looked at the others.
“Your teeth are chattering almost as loud as mine. Anyone got any
matches?”

The storm was
coming round again. The thought of more cold rain to come was
unbearable. She felt a sob rising in her throat, but forced it
down. “I hope we get rescued soon”, and didn’t know if she meant it
for herself or for Dean.

“Yes. Before
the tide rises”, Arthur said.

Ross nodded,
but couldn’t at first see what the tide had to do with it. Perhaps
it was just a way to measure time, but then he realised Arthur had
been gazing anxiously at the sheltering cliff, and then out to sea
as he said it. Seaweed and barnacles made a neat line on the cliff
about a metre above their heads. He gulped.

“How long?” he
asked.

“About an hour
I think and the water will be around our ankles. We’d have to get
Dean up that cliff before then”.

They all three
looked down at the semi-conscious bundle that was Dean. They all
knew the dangers of moving anyone with back injuries, and even if
they could make a stretcher, they didn’t fancy the clamber over
slippery rocks and up the ravine which had been a tight squeeze
coming down with sails and masts never mind a badly injured
boy.

As the storm
came round for its second bullying fit, they huddled together under
the dripping sails and watched the leaping waves draw nearer in the
flickering light. Dean was waking up now, and groaning more.
Before, the pain had been part of a dream, maybe even someone
else’s pain, but now, as he tried to open his eyes, the pain was
definitely his, and it was all over, so that if he moved even a
fingernail, he couldn’t breathe, and if he lay still, he wanted to
wriggle away and free of it. He suddenly realised the groaning he
was hearing was his, and even that hurt. As his eyes opened, Susan
was grabbing his hand and talking to him and as the thunder and
lightning attacked from almost overhead, it was hard to know who
was comforting who, but it was Susan who could be heard as the
thunder died away.

“It’s OK. Lie
still. You’ll be better soon. Just wait until the storm has
gone.”

Ross watched
Dean’s eyes close again, although his hand remained in Susan’s. Was
that good or bad? In the films, they always tried to keep injured
people awake, but if Dean could rest wouldn’t that help more? He
was thinking about the need for help. Urgent help. The sailing
boats were no good unless the sails were no longer needed as a
tent. Smoke from a fire would be great but even if they had had
matches, they’d be too wet to work. A message in a bottle? No, no
bottle and it would take too long for anyone to find it. The
mainland was too far away to wave and shout. No one could hear even
without the storm. ”Is your canoe OK?” he asked Arthur.

Arthur shook
his head. “The paddle’s bust. There’s only one blade left. I could
paddle it in no waves, but not in this. We’ll have to wait for the
storm to go and then see if the canoe or a sailing boat will be
best. Depends on the wind really.”

Arthur was
shuddering with cold now. Even his insides were shivering. Ross had
given him his waterproof which at least kept the wind off,
especially if he forced his arms inside, closer to his body. He
wondered if he would know when he was suffering from hypothermia.
It was already getting hard to think about things other than the
coldness of the air around them. As if to emphasise that cold, the
rain became hailstones, hammering angrily on the sail cloth as if
demanding entrance to their tiny tent. There seemed to be a
whistling noise in his head. Was that a sign of hypothermia? No. It
had gone now. Perhaps it was just the wind whistling around the
rocks. Just then Susan’s head came up, like a deer scenting the
breeze.

“Listen,” she
said. It was hard to hear anything over the drumming hailstones.
Ross had heard nothing.

“What?” he
hissed, and then they all heard it.

“A whistle,”
Ross cried, and was out of the tent before another hailstone could
land, and dashing up the ravine.

“Help. Help.
Over here. Help”

It was Nick who
limped out of the bouncing hailstones, a canvas rucksack on his
back.

“Thank God”, he
said. “Are you OK?”

“Yes,” replied
Ross, “but Dean isn’t. He’s down here and we daren’t move him”.

As they hurried
down the ravine, the first wave rushed over the rocks below and
sent its spray flickering over the side of their makeshift tent.
The tide had turned and was making itself known. Nick moved fast,
assessing the situation. After quickly inspecting Arthur’s
bandaging and giving Susan an encouraging nod as she knelt beside
Dean, he was leaping up the bank. A hand held radio he cast aside
as useless and, instead, pulled a flare gun out of his rucksack and
sent a flare flying high to explode as a bright light and smoke
signal. A second flare followed. Ross was doubtful.

“Will anyone
see them?” he asked. “I mean, no one will be outside looking in
this rain, will they?”

“They’ll be
watching,” Nick reassured him. “We agreed one flare if I’ve found
you. Two flares, medical help required. If the wind drops a bit
more, there’ll be a helicopter on its way. If they don’t think
that’s safe, there’ll be an RNLI rib instead.”

“What’s a rib?”
Ross asked

“It’s a big
open motorboat, like a big version of what Jerry was driving,
normally bright orange.” Nick was digging in his rucksack again as
he spoke. Out came multi coloured clothes and a thermos flask.

“Put these on,
quickly” he handed Ross some dry baggy clothes, a woolly hat and
some waterproofs. “And how cold are you? Can you stay up here on
watch for a bit?” As Ross’s hands appeared through the sleeves of
the waterproof, Nick handed him a steaming cup from the thermos.
“Drink this while you watch”.

He left the
thermos at Ross’s feet and disappeared back into the ravine. Ross
sipped the scalding soup and felt the glow radiate outwards from
his stomach – a glow of fire spreading into his numbed limbs. It
was comforting to have someone older in charge, and inside the
warmth made him feel contented and sleepy, but a glance at the
ravine, reminded him he still had a job to do, watching for that
helicopter. How long would it take, and where would it come from?
It was almost as if Nick was some kind of weather god. With his
presence, the hailstones had given up and moved on, and over the
mountains, from where the storm had launched itself, a patch of
blue sky was emerging. Arthur bobbed up from the ravine, also
dressed in nearly dry waterproofs and a scarf and woollen hat, the
cold blueness leaving his face.

“I’ve never
seen a real helicopter rescue before”, he said. “Even Dean’s
excited”. He looked around. “Just look at those waves. Even now the
wind’s dropped, they’re still massive”.

Ross nodded
soberly. “I’m glad we didn’t have to go for help. We couldn’t have
seen where we were going from the dips”.

Down below, a
wave lapped over the edge of the tent’s plateau, but hadn’t the
energy to attack further, falling back like a seal fed fish at the
zoo. Nick’s head popped out of the tent, as if sensing danger.

“Any sign?” he
asked. Ross shook his head, but was immediately contradicted by
Arthur.

“There”” he
cried jubilantly, and his finger pointed to the black dot swinging
round the headland at the end of the bay. Listening carefully, Ross
could hear the beating of the blades. A gentle popping on the
eardrums. The rain had followed the hailstones, leaving puffy white
and grey clouds, just hiding the blue above.

“Quick, Ross,
Susan, let’s get this tent cleared. Arthur, stay up there and make
sure the helicopter knows where Dean is. Wave your arms and then
point to us”, Nick directed.

Dean was just a
heap of blankets, with excited, dazed eyes as the tent came down
around him. The helicopter was close now, dropping something into
the sea, and then moving on towards the islanders. A man was
hanging out of the door signalling to Nick to keep clear. Nick took
them all out onto the headland.

“You can watch
from there and still be well clear. I’ll be back in a minute or
two”.

He hurried back
to shelter Dean’s body from the helicopter’s air wash and the
reaching sea. The helicopter noise was immense. The man dropped
slowly, a life saving spider on a giant thread, and landed with pin
point accuracy on the rocky plateau. A stretcher followed with 100%
efficiency, and Dean was winched aboard with his rescuer. Nick
returned to the spectators.

“
Right.
Just got to get you lot home, now,” said Nick. “Just a boring old
motor boat for you”.

He gazed at the
sad looking canoe and dismasted dinghies and made a decision.
“We’ll come back for those another day. Sea’s too lumpy to tow them
today”.

CHAPTER 9

On the way
back, Susan said in a small voice, “What happened to the others?”
It was almost as if she didn’t really want to know, in case it was
bad news.

Nick gave a
half laugh, half sigh.

“All’s well
that ends well. Shakespeare said that, though when the parents
hear…….well, we’ll see. Jerry will by now be at the hospital with
Maureen. Patrick will be showing off a couple of stitches above his
left eye. That squall capsized him near the rocks off the island
headland and Jerry had to put in a fair amount of fancy engine work
to get him safe without wrecking the safety boat and making things
worse. By the time he’d got Patrick clear and into the safety boat,
you lot had disappeared in that torrential rain. With Patrick’s
head gushing blood and Maureen nearly fainting with that broken
arm, he had to head back and raise the alarm, and he’s darn near
had a nervous breakdown not knowing if he’s done the right thing,
poor guy. If only we could get a good telephone signal out here,
things would have been a whole lot easier.”

“What about
Jack?” Ross interrupted.

“Ah. Jack is
the hero. Another hero, I should say”, he glanced at Arthur who’s
once blue face, had now gained a tinge of red glow. “He managed to
sail to shore, even in that wild wind, ran along the shoreline for
over a mile and raised the alarm. I had just managed to get my
canoeists back safe, except Arthur who disobeyed all instructions
and paddled into the squall, and nearly sent me the same way as
Jerry…” Even now, the thought of Arthur’s action sent him sick and
shivery, and he gave Arthur a look of mixed fury and admiration.
Arthur was definitely blushing now. Trying to explain himself, he
said, “I saw Dean’s boat blow away from him when he capsized. I
think it was because the sail was still sticking up in the air. I
knew he couldn’t swim fast enough to catch up with it on his own. I
couldn’t just leave him”. Looking into Nick’s eyes, he added,
“Sorry”.

Nick sighed
again. “Please, never do that again, but, well, today, I’m glad you
did. The trouble is that when you went off on your own, I didn’t
know whether to get the others straight back to shore and safe, or
risk their lives, coming after you. Anyway, when Jack said what had
happened, we called the Coastguard and then Jerry turned up with
his pair, so we called an ambulance, too, and alerted the police
for good measure, and agreed that I’d come out to check the island
on the off chance. The lifeboat was patrolling further out, where
you’d have ended up if the tide and wind had taken you and you’d
missed the island.”

He paused,
knowing that even skilled and experienced lifeboat crew would have
had trouble spotting all four tiny specks in time, if the island
hadn’t netted them. The results of that just couldn’t be thought
about. The others were studying his strained face. He managed a
grin. “Anyone else you’re worried about?

“Do our parents
know?” Ross asked, thinking about his promises about safety before
they’d let him go.

“Not when I
left”, Nick replied. “Don’t know about now”.

“I hope not,”
Ross sighed.

Nick throttled
back the engine as they came alongside the jetty.

“Mind your
fingers. We don’t want any more casualties,” he warned.

Jack and David
and the other canoeists could hardly wait for the survivors to come
ashore before the bombardment of questions began.

“Where’s Dean?”
“Did the helicopter land?” “Did you see inside it?” What’s happened
to the boats?”…

Arthur, who
climbed out first, found his legs trembling beneath him. The
tiredness he’d ignored throughout the catastrophe was taking
charge. The world was trying to spin around him, and the only way
to stop it was to lean on Nick who happened to be beside him. Ross
was also finding fatigue overwhelming him, waves of sound, rippling
faces rising and falling around him. The jetty, which should have
been stable, was bobbing beneath his feet, and beside him, Susan’s
eyes were spilling tears. Not that she was sad, but because it was
all over and she didn’t have to be strong anymore. Nick was almost
angrily clearing the way for them in his grown up voice, and with
Susan supported under one arm, Arthur on one side and a hand on
Ross’s shoulder, he led the way to the front seat of the minibus
and shepherded them aboard, clicking on seat belts which only Susan
was aware of, in a faraway manner. None of them heard the rest of
the group squeezing aboard, and when Ross woke up, he was in bed at
the Centre and Jerry’s head was poking around the door.

BACK SAFE