Calypso's Mast

Chapter 1 - Keel Strike

Just when she thought her lungs would burst, Pitcher finally surfaced and greedily sucked in sweet, life-giving air.

"Peta?" she cried.

The yacht was upside down in the water and the waves were breaking over the hull. The keel was gone. There was a jagged hole and she could hear the air being forced out of it as the water level rose inside. She desperately looked around for O'Grady.

"Peta! Peta! Where are you?" She was almost screaming. "Oh God! Peta!"

She put her head under the water and looked around. Her vision was blurred. Rope and debris were floating up toward the surface, mingling with millions of white bubbles. She couldn't see anything clearly.

In a few seconds, she was out of breath. She lifted her head out of the water and gulped down more air. There was no O'Grady. The afternoon sun, reflecting off the white hull, blinded her. The salt stung her eyes. She was breathing heavily and treading water, trying to keep her head out.

Her mind raced as she fought to control her thinking. O'Grady was down below in the cabin while they were sailing. Obviously, she was stuck inside and was going to drown if she didn't do something to get her out.

Pitcher swam over to the side of the hull, but there was nothing to grab on to and it was slippery. The only place where there was anything to hold, was at the stern so she swam toward the rear of the vessel.

"Peta!" she screamed. "Where are you? You have to get out of there!"

Pitcher slapped the hull a couple of times as she continued to swim toward the stern. 

"Peta! Come on! Where are you!"

There was a huge gasp from behind her and she spun around in the water to see a wild-eyed O'Grady had just surfaced and was struggling to breathe. She was treading water and trying to hold her mouth and nose above the waves.

"Oh,  thank God! Here. Hang on." Pitcher reached out and grabbed her arm.

O'Grady coughed and spat out some salt water and grabbed Pitcher's T-shirt to help stay afloat.

"What's going on? What happened?" she cried.

She held up her arm to take a look at it. There was a large cut on her upper arm, bleeding profusely into the water. Her eyelids fluttered and her eyes started to roll. Her grip on the T-shirt loosened.

"Peta. Stop! No, no, don't you faint."

Pitcher grabbed her to stop her slipping below the surface. She struggled to pull off her own T-shirt while holding O'Grady. Once she had it off, she firmly tied it as a broad bandage around O'Grady's arm to put pressure on the wound and pull it together. O'Grady's head had rolled back and briefly slipped below the surface. Pitcher grabbed her around her upper body and hoisted her head out of the water. She side-stroked to the rear of the boat and grabbed the rudder post.

She was exhausted and so out of breath that she felt nauseous.

What a mess!

O'Grady was unconscious. The boat was irretrievable. She looked toward the shore. They were - maybe four kilometres out, but even at that distance she could make out some prominent features. There was a huge tree trunk lying on the beach and there were mountains behind the beach, out to the west. However, the distance to shore,  was daunting. Fear gripped her heart.

There was no protection from the waves at the back of the boat. The afternoon wind was blowing at about fifteen knots and the boat was side-on to the waves, which were rolling in from the southeast. Conditions were very uncomfortable without the hull to protect them. It was an effort to keep both of their heads out of the water.