The Fire Stone, page 16
part #3 of The Stone Collection Series
“Have we got any more space to put it?” Secretly, he doubted it. On Val’s advice, they’d brought shopping on board every day—progressively so as not to give the impression they were setting off for a long voyage. Whisperer’s hull had been gradually stuffed with goods and provisions. They’d stored it in lockers, under seats, and even under the floorboards.
Pip ignored his question. “Let’s go for a walk after dinner, perhaps to the Muttonbird Island Nature Reserve at the end of the breakwater. We shouldn’t be disturbed there.”
Sebastian nodded.
That evening, they dined more sumptuously than usual at one of the restaurants in the Marina Village. The complex provided a number of places to eat. It also boasted a hairdresser, some specialty stores including a chandlery, and, as Pip had discovered, an ice creamery.
Dinner was a muted affair. The seriousness of what they were embarking on seemed to infect them all. Sebastian chased the last of his peas around the plate with a fork and said very little.
David was the one who seemed most at peace. He sat back in his seat and said. “That was lovely. Thanks, Val, for your generosity.”
Sebastian couldn’t help but think, uncharitably, whether he’d just eaten the last meal of a condemned man. Even the prospect of spending time with Pip failed to dissipate his apprehension. What they were doing was dangerous—plain and simple, and the future was far from certain.
David folded his napkin. “Val, what happens about customs? Don’t we have to report in before we go? It’s just that I’m a bit concerned that doing so might make our movements visible to anyone who wanted to find us.”
Val grunted. “Yeah, they’ve got international customs clearance here in the marina, but we won’t be using them. If anyone asks, we’re just learning how to sail—and planning to finish off the schooling with a trip up the coast.”
“Is it really as simple as that?”
“And we’ll be taking down our radar reflector.”
Nothing was said for a while.
Sebastian gave Pip’s ankle a tap with his foot under the table and cleared his throat. “Um, Pip and I are going for a quick walk along to Muttonbird Island.”
Val nodded and growled. “Don’t be late. We sail early tomorrow morning and you’ll be standing four-hourly watches from 8 o’clock on. You’ll need all the sleep you can get.”
It wasn’t the most comforting of benedictions.
Sebastian and Pip walked along the curving sea wall toward Muttonbird Island. He wondered whether he should take her by the arm. It felt like the natural thing to do.
But he didn’t.
The lights of the town were behind them as they headed toward the brooding silhouette of the island. Sebastian could already smell the guano on the sea air coming from the colony of wedge-tailed shearwaters that nested there.
He was acutely aware of Pip walking beside him—and wished that he could offer her more safety than a sailing trip in a small boat across the Pacific.
He drew a deep breath. “Are you doing okay?”
She didn’t answer immediately. Eventually, she said, “Don’t you think all this—is kind of crazy?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“But better than being a city slicker with their…” she pointed to Sebastian, challenging him to finish the sentence.
Sebastian rubbed the side of his temples. He had hoped for a conversation free of competition, but played along. “Aah, with their vegan world of political correctness, wispy beards, and bodies shaped in expensive gyms.”
She nodded appreciatively. After a moment’s thought, she responded: “With vistas restricted by what they can see bent over their mobile phones.”
He fired back: “With trendy ideologies learned from media personalities—giddy with power but untested by responsibility.”
She laughed. “There’s no way I’m going to better that.”
They began walking again, content now with the silence.
The moon was up—on the wane, he noticed. Its light silvered the wave tops, highlighting their restlessness.
He decided to risk taking things to a deeper level. “It’s going to be an adventure—in all sorts of ways.”
“And it’s by no means clear how it’s going to end,” she finished.
“I just hope there’s not going to be…” he paused, and started again. “I just hope you’ll be okay.”
Pip kept her gaze straight ahead. “You and I are going to be cooped up in a boat together for a long time.”
Sebastian swallowed. “Do you mind?”
“It could get…interesting.”
He stopped walking. “Interesting! Is that all you’ve got to say?”
She laughed, then the two of them lapsed into silence.
They moved off the sea wall onto the island and headed along the path to the eastern lookout.
Sebastian cleared his throat. “I actually asked whether you would mind…you know…with you and me being in a boat together.”
She threw her head back and looked at him. “No, I wouldn’t mind.” She paused. “Would you?”
“I think you know…that I wouldn’t.”
“But I do have reservations,” she added.
“What?” he demanded.
She took his arm and pulled it back, bringing him to standstill. Pip looked him in the eyes. “There is a lot that you and I don’t have in common, and a lot I still don’t know about you Sebastian McKenzie.”
He began to protest but she shut him down by thumping his chest with a fist. “Hear me out.”
He closed his mouth.
She took his hands in her own and looked up at him. “Sebastian, you still don’t know who you are, or why you exist.” She paused. “And that’s the foundation for everything.”
Sebastian frowned, not understanding.
She shook his hands in irritation. “Oh…talk to my dad.”
“What? David?”
“Yes. You and he will be sharing watch together over the next week or two. You’ll have plenty of time.”
“Why?”
She ignored him. “And another thing: You, Sebastian, are changing so quickly that I’m not sure I know the guy of today. And I’m not confident that I’ll know the guy of tomorrow. Things are happening so quickly to you that I’m a bit scared.” She paused. “I’m not sure that a shipboard romance is a wise thing right now.”
Silence hung between them. The only sound came from the haunting, rising cooing of shearwaters getting comfortable for the night.
Sebastian disengaged one of his hands. “Ignoring you romantically would be a whole lot more helpful if you weren’t so dammed attractive.” He reached out to hook back a strand of hair from her face. “But if you weren’t so attractive, you wouldn’t be you, would you?”
She looked at him without expression, then lent forward and kissed him on the cheek. “That was a lovely thing to say. But let’s leave it at that, and see what the voyage does to us.”
Sebastian said nothing.
Pip paused, and laid a hand on his chest. “Just…don’t push your luck, because I mightn’t…”
The shearwaters cooed.
He whispered hoarsely, “And what sort of luck do you think I might push?”
She took her hand from his chest and stepped back.
He held on to her other hand. “We could…carpe diem…you know, ‘seize the day.’” He couldn’t but fail to note the desperation in his own voice.
But she pulled free and gave him an old-fashioned look.
Silence hung between them, screaming its possibilities.
“The problem with that, Sebastian McKenzie, is that you might very well seize the day, but lose a lifetime possibility.”
“A lifetime?” Sebastian’s mind began to spin.
“And I wouldn’t like that,” she finished.
Chapter 24
Whisperer seemed impatient to leave. She had been fueled, pumped out, and her water tanks were full. Now she was doing what she was made to do. Her bow was dipping and rising in the sea, shouldering the waves into spray.
Pip had wedged herself into the pulpit at the bow to be alone with her thoughts—and wished she felt as eager.
The thudding and spluttering of the engine had been stilled and there was now only the sound of whooshing water. They’d managed to set all the sails by the time they headed through the gap between the Southern Breakwall and Muttonbird Island, and a brisk southerly wind was now driving them along.
No one had said much that morning. Everyone seemed content to nurse their own thoughts as they’d gone about their tasks.
What lay ahead?
Pip looked up at the eastern horizon. It was on fire with the morning sun, its light gilding the wave-tops with pink.
Perhaps there was hope.
Val interrupted her reverie as he called from the cockpit. “Pip, can you join us?”
She made her way aft.
Sebastian handed her a mug of coffee as she stepped down into the cockpit.
She nodded her thanks.
David was at the wheel. The early morning start had left his face looking a little pinched, but he seemed content enough.
Val turned to David. “Head north for a bit. Steer zero-two-zero. That’ll give the illusion we’re heading up the coast—but we don’t want to go so far that we get tangled among the islands of Solitary Marine Park. We’ll change our course and head to the north-east in about two hours time.” He glanced at his watch. “That will be around 8am when our watch system begins for real.”
David nodded.
Val scratched at his beard. “Just a couple of other things it’s important to say right now. The first is: If you are in doubt about anything: call me. I’d rather be called twenty times unnecessarily than not be called on the one occasion I’m really needed. Is that clear?”
Pip nodded.
“Secondly: sailing a boat on a four-hour watch system will put everyone under pressure. We’ll all get tired—and tiredness exaggerates the flaws in people’s character.” He looked around at them. “So keep a grip on yourself and make allowances.”
The brutal no-nonsense demeanor of the man made it easy for Pip to imagine him instructing a squad of soldiers in the army. She wondered how she would cope being on watch with him—just the two of them together—over the next two weeks.
Val continued to growl. “Thirdly: Our watch system will allow us to eat our meals together. Other than that, get as much sleep as you can when you’re not on watch.” His gray eyes fastened on Pip. “Pip; David: if the boat’s motion is too violent for you to sleep in the forepeak cabin, let me know. It can get pretty lively. We might be able to move people around.” He looked up at them. “Any questions?”
Pip experienced a wave of anxiety. She crossed her arms and jammed her fists under her armpits.
“Problem, Pip?”
Damn the man.
“Um, no. It’s…I was just wondering whether…I’m up to it.” And I’m putting my life in the hands of a serial killer!
“Everyone’s schooling will continue on the voyage. We’ll be doing a ‘man overboard’ drill after lunch. It’ll be our watch by then Pip and you’ll be on the helm.”
No assurances. No comforting words. Pip sighed.
“Any more questions?”
There were none.
Pip collected the empty mugs and climbed down the companionway steps into the main cabin.
Val had laid claim to the bunk behind the kitchen table, presumably because it offered quick access to the deck; and Sebastian had a little pipe cot beside the companionway. After depositing the cups in the sink, she made her way past the toilet to the forepeak cabin that she shared with her father. Whisperer pitched and rolled—alive in her element. Pip had to brace herself and hang on to anything within reach. She tried to think what it would be like to live at a permanent angle whilst bouncing up and down for days on end.
It was impossible to imagine.
She lay down on her bunk in a storm of emotion.
But as she lay still, she began to allow the sounds of the boat to reach her. She listened to the thrum of the wind in the shrouds vibrating through the hull, and the sound of the water.
She’d been told that the hull was essentially made from bent pipes, chicken wire, and concrete—absurd. Yet this didn’t stop her being able to hear the musical sound of water trickling, splashing and whooshing along the side. It was a surprise to her, and strangely comforting. The roll of the boat and the sound of the sea seemed to hold her, as if in a womb. Perhaps she might survive after all.
“Hey Pip, come and have a look at this.” Sebastian’s voice shouted through the hatchway.
She heaved herself up and made her way on deck. Sebastian was on the bow beckoning to her.
Immediately, she saw why.
Bottle-nosed dolphins were jostling for position in front of the bow wave—impossibly close to the pitching stem of the bow but never bumping it. They weaved among themselves in a fabulous display of dexterity. One of them, in particular, was a show off. It was surfing the bow wave upside down, exposing its pale belly and looking at her as if waiting for her applause. Then, in an instant, they all spiraled down deep into the sea and disappeared leaving Whisperer alone on the ocean.
“How’s the seasickness?”
Sebastian was jolted out of his ruminations by David’s inquiry. The two of them were the only ones on deck.
“Um, not bad. A bit queasy yesterday. Good today.”
He’d actually suffered a good deal from seasickness on the first three days of their sail training at Coffs Harbour. It irked him that he was the only one who’d been affected by the malaise. Pip was fine.
Val, of course, showed no sign of it. Sebastian thought, uncharitably, that seasickness wouldn’t dare afflict him.
It was late afternoon on the second day of their voyage, and they were well out of sight of land. Their only company through the day had been a group of gannets diving for fish. They’d tucked in their wings and speared into the water, giving a fantastic display.
But now they were alone, and Sebastian was brooding like a sulky school kid. He knew it, and wasn’t at all proud of himself.
Why couldn’t he stand watch with Pip? He’d love to speak with her—to have her to himself during the long watches of the night. And why didn’t he have a physique like Val? He’d enjoy her seeing it.
He thrust his hands in his pockets. Val was paired with Pip, and that was that. Their watch system was perfectly sensible and only to be expected—dammit.
He glanced at the sail and the compass bearing. The wind direction was more easterly. Sebastian reached for a chrome handle, inserted it into the mainsheet winch and gave it a turn. Whisperer signaled her thanks by leaning harder to the wind. She butted the sea so that the spray shone like a rainbow before dying in the sea.
Sebastian staggered across the cockpit and returned the handle to its storage pocket.
David grinned at him. “Don’t drop it.”
“Why?” He was being petulant.
“I’ve had a look at the chart. The sea is four kilometers deep at this point.”
Sebastian blinked. Jeeesh. “Sorry David, I’m being an asshole.”
David waved a dismissive hand.
Sebastian decided to repair things with better conversation. “Do you think we’re crazy doing this?”
“What?”
“Sailing to Vanuatu. It’s not exactly sensible.”
David smiled. “Well that’s it, you see: we never really grow up. We only learn how to act in public.”
Sebastian laughed.
It was enough to reset the mood.
His thoughts went back to Pip’s comment on Muttonbird Island. Unsure of where it would lead, he asked, “Why would Pip suggest I ask you about my identity? What would she be on about?”
David pushed his spectacles up his nose. “I expect she’s signaling her willingness to hang around with you.”
“But?”
“But she’s reluctant to team up with someone who is a feckless, beer binging, self-sabotaging wastrel with no apparent reason for living.”
It took a moment for Sebastian to digest David’s merciless reply. It was all the more shocking coming from someone so mild mannered and affable.
“Wow! That’s telling it…”
“…like it is?”
“Yes.” Sebastian tried to marshal his thoughts. “Presumably, you wouldn’t be too keen either if I dated your daughter.”
David kept his eyes on the sails. “I would be reluctant to trust my daughter to a man who has no foundation for knowing what good is, and no foundation that would allow him to love her sacrificially in good times and bad.”
“If you’re talking about God, I’ve never seen much evidence of his existence.”
“So you’ve done some serious research?”
Sebastian thought for a while and decided to be honest. “Nah, not really—although I’ve heard a few quotes from some high profile atheists.”
“Paddling around in the shallow end of Google is a culpably lazy response to the miracle of existence.”
Sebastian couldn’t think of a reply.
“I invite you to go deeper, Sebastian.” David gestured around him. “The universe is shot through with signs of mind. To believe otherwise is to believe that everything came from nothing, and that fractures the law of ‘cause and effect’ that underpins all science.”
Sebastian had never had a conversation like this in his life. He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. Eventually, he said, “The religion thing: you know—it’s not really my thing.”
David banged the top of the wheel. “Willful atheism should never masquerade as a carefully researched intellectual objection to God. If you want to not believe, that is your prerogative, but you may not claim an academic mandate for doing so.”
Sebastian reeled before David’s brutal exposé of his spiritual vacuity.
“You’re, er…pretty passionate about this.” Sebastian had hoped his comment would be seen as a mild reproach.
