Corvus was on her side, water rushing into the cockpit.
Vic threw the spinnaker sheet, dropped himself backward like a scuba diver but into the boat. He rolled and splashed to reach the tiller.
Lloyd was there already, hugging the tiller to his chest, his legs braced at the cockpit bench below. He strained against the river and wind to make Corvus chase her spinnaker. Both sheets gone, that sail should have been flat on the river or streaming atop the mast, but it still had wind, was pulling Corvus down.
“Stopper knot!” Lloyd pointed his chin down at the cleat on the low side where the line was caught under water.
Vic had never cut an active line while sailing, though his folding knife was always in his pocket. He didn’t hesitate. Corvus crashed level on the river. Lark screamed, Vic lurched forward—she’s overboard, too.
No, she wasn’t.
“I see him!” Lark screamed, crabbing on the foredeck between the side stays and the mast. “I see him!” she yelled again into howling wind, slapping sails, rain, whitecaps. Lark hugged the mast, pointed astern at where she kept eyes on Stewie’s head bobbing in the river.
“Where’s the damn outboard?” Lloyd yelled.
“Below deck!” Vic yelled back.
“Right!” Lloyd nodded, apparently remembering he had helped lift and transfer it from the stern before the race’s starting sequence.
The spinnaker whipped at the sky from atop the mast.
“Raise a jib! Drop that spin!” Lloyd commanded.
Lark loosed the spinnaker halyard to its knot, saw the giant sail stream to the river in the gusting rain. She scrambled to the bow’s tip and helped guide the jib up while Vic hauled the halyard. Lloyd threw the tiller with all his weight forcing Corvus to swing ‘round, upwind to where Lark pointed. Vic trimmed and cleated the jib, scrambled forward out of the cockpit.
“Where you going?” Lloyd asked.
“Lark!”
“She’s fine! Trim the sails.”
“Spinnaker’s dragging!” Lark yelled.
“Good!” Lloyd yelled. “Leave it! Eyes on Stewie!”
Lark sighted atop her arm, to port. “Eight o’clock!” Lark’s arm a rifle. “Nine!”
“Where’s his PFD?” Lloyd wondered aloud, loud enough.
“Below deck!” Vic yelled. Like the outboard.
“Ready about, coming about!”
“His shirt is fucking BLUE!” Lark shrieked. “I lost him—Where is he!”
“Coming up,” Lloyd announced.
Vic hauled the main sheet to pull the sail tighter aside the boat.
“Some help here?” Lloyd’s whole body hugged Corvus’s tiller. “Too much weather helm!”
“Backstay!” Vic pointed at the rigging atop the stern behind Lloyd. Lloyd twisted around to see it but was locked in embrace with the tiller. Vic crabbed to the stern, took the backstay line in both fists and heaved, bending the mast backward, a little. Corvus settled to a shallower heel and her tiller gave up fighting the helmsman.
“Traveler?” Lloyd pointed his chin at the rigging beneath the boom, just beyond his reach.
Vic hauled on the traveler to lift the boom and mainsail closer to center.
“Dump!”
Vic eased the traveler to dump wind off the sail, then firmed it up again.
“I see him!” Lark called out, pointing.
Lloyd relaxed the tiller, easing Corvus downwind to follow Lark’s gaze.
“It’s his hat!” Lark yelled.
Lloyd held course, looked further upwind.
Corvus reached the hat quickly and Vic leaned out for the fetch.
“Let it go!” Lloyd said, one palm on the back of Vic’s leg.
“Where is he?”
“There!” Lark screamed. “Eleven o’clock! Further up! Lloyd!”
“Coming about! Keep pointing. Eyes on Stewie!”
Corvus got within two boat lengths of where Stewie was treading and thrashing, waves rolling over his balding head. Lloyd held course until they were near passing him.
“Jibing!” Lloyd yelled. “All eyes on Stewie! Throw things!” He plucked Stewie’s beer can from the gimbaled cup holder, winged it at Stewie’s head while Corvus glided by.
Stewie’s shiny scalp bobbed below the waves. Vic saw him gulp air between dunkings. Corvus jibed. Vic ducked the whooshing boom, spun to the opposite side, eased the jib to run downwind.
“There!” Vic pointed. He reached to rip at the velcro closure on the life buoy, gripped the white and red ring to throw it, hesitated.
Jibing Corvus around with the spinnaker dragging on the water behind made the sail double back on itself to form a giant U, a big fabric hook on the river.
As Corvus gained speed running downwind and away from Stewie, the spinnaker’s curve tightened around where Stewie bobbed then kicked and crawled to hug himself into the sail.
Vic exhaled when the sail snapped tight, Corvus briefly shuddered, and Stewie’s bald head jerked forward.
“NOW get that spinnaker aboard!” Lloyd commanded.
Lark sat on Vic’s legs to keep him aboard while Vic reached overboard to catch Stewie with both arms. Vic grabbed two handfuls where Stewie’s hair was thickest: Armpit and back.
“Heaving to!” Lloyd announced and Corvus relaxed a little off the wind.
“That hurts!” Stewie squealed.
Lloyd and Lark helped Vic to heave Stewie aboard.
Stewie flopped over, got one beefy hand on the tiller. “Jibing!” He grumbled. “Get that spinnaker out of the water! Where’s Blow?!”
Lloyd scrambled forward to help Lark haul the spinnaker aboard.
“It’s torn!” Lark yelled. “The center seam blew out!”
“Forget that, trim the jib!” Stewie commanded. “We’re racing!”
Next: Squid's Bar Again Previously, in Cycling Through a Storm 1: Cycling Through a Storm 2: A House, a Boy, a Girl, a Car, a Dock, a Boat, a Hug 3: Starting Sequence 4: Yacht Race 5: Save the Hat! 6: Squid's Bar 7: Sailors and Fishermen 8: Maxhole 9: Schwinn Continental 10: Psycle Snobs Café 11: The Sultan of Strings 12: Fetching 13: Spelunking 14: The FNG 15: Crashing Corvus
I hope you’re enjoying Cycling Through a Storm. More episodes are coming.
Vivid, exciting scene. Thanks for sharing.