worked with in the past. I know he’s familiar with New York harbor and has dived the wrecks there before.” She smiled. “Let me call him and get his ideas.”
She reached up and held his face in her hands. “Jamie is still on your mind, isn’t he? Jimmy, you’re causing me to act like a married woman, taking care of a man and his problems.”
“I like your having those feelings, Katy,” he said, lightly touching his large hands over her smaller fingers.
“I’m a country girl at heart. Remember, my first live-in man lasted for a lot of years because he was a farmer. Trouble is, he didn’t think about me any more than his tractors or livestock. Nice enough guy but no emotion. That’s why I went back to my history work. Ironically, I get a lot of caring just being around those dusty old books. Maybe they talk to me.” She giggled.
“I’m not a farmer.”
“You like gardens and flowers. That’s enough of the land influence. Besides, you have emotion.”
“I do? I thought I was a tough guy.”
“I think you are a better father than you realize. You’re doing all the right work. Worrying about him is the biggest and most important part of the job,” she said softly.
Chapter 8
June 24, 4 PM
River Sunday
Cutter was in his office with the latest race report transcribed for him by Sparkles from the last satellite phone report. He summarized and called out the information to the others. “June 23, she’s at Latitude 17.46 Longitude 34.40. She’s travelled 5,457 miles with 15,507 left to get to China. She’s been out 35 days with 105 to go. Right about now she ought to be about 1,000 miles east south east of Salvador Bahia, Brazil.”
The shortwave radio squealed. Doc Jerry tuned it and turned up the speaker. A foreign-sounding voice thundered across the control room. “I want Cutter.”
Cutter walked to the radio as the volume was adjusted. As he did he glanced again at the data phoned in from the Peregrine a day ago.
He spoke into the microphone. “Jim Cutter here.”
“Your boat needs help and right away.” It was not the voice of his captain. Cutter could hear the excitement in the voice, strong against static.
“What is going on?” he asked Doc Jerry. He spoke again into the microphone, “Why isn’t Hall calling himself?”
“My friend, it is Etranger. I call because we are beside your brig. Captain Hall wanted me to contact you with a report.”
“What happened, Captain Etranger?”
“The brig has lost the upper sections of its front mast. The foretop has let go from the bottom fore mast and has taken with it the highest mast, the topgallant. The antenna was below and has been destroyed. The transceiver and satellite phone are crushed from the falling gear. We are alongside. We work together with Captain Hall to bring down the remaining yards and rigging.”
Cutter asked, “Can you report on the boat and crew?”
“These two masts, they’re broken badly and will have to be completely replaced.”
Doc Jerry said, “Ocean gusts may be the culprit, Cutter.”
“The ship she is in good shape otherwise. The first mate has a fractured arm. All other crewmen and women are fine.”
Cutter replied grimly, “Maybe it is more than weather.” He could not forget the stranger who had been up in that mast when the workman died.
Doc Jerry went on, as if reading his thoughts, “We checked all that wood before it was installed. Those masts were prime, no cracks, no warping. Must have been a powerful blow with a lot of sail spread.”
Cutter spoke to the French captain. “What is the current status?” he asked his fingers tight on the microphone.
“Others from our crew have volunteered to go aboard the Peregrine to help. They attempt to untangle the lines and spars on the deck.”
“How bad is the man hurt?”
“He will be all right. He has been airlifted to the Chinese ship shadowing us. They will stand by but, by the rules, cannot assist with the repairs. My
She reached up and held his face in her hands. “Jamie is still on your mind, isn’t he? Jimmy, you’re causing me to act like a married woman, taking care of a man and his problems.”
“I like your having those feelings, Katy,” he said, lightly touching his large hands over her smaller fingers.
“I’m a country girl at heart. Remember, my first live-in man lasted for a lot of years because he was a farmer. Trouble is, he didn’t think about me any more than his tractors or livestock. Nice enough guy but no emotion. That’s why I went back to my history work. Ironically, I get a lot of caring just being around those dusty old books. Maybe they talk to me.” She giggled.
“I’m not a farmer.”
“You like gardens and flowers. That’s enough of the land influence. Besides, you have emotion.”
“I do? I thought I was a tough guy.”
“I think you are a better father than you realize. You’re doing all the right work. Worrying about him is the biggest and most important part of the job,” she said softly.
Chapter 8
June 24, 4 PM
River Sunday
Cutter was in his office with the latest race report transcribed for him by Sparkles from the last satellite phone report. He summarized and called out the information to the others. “June 23, she’s at Latitude 17.46 Longitude 34.40. She’s travelled 5,457 miles with 15,507 left to get to China. She’s been out 35 days with 105 to go. Right about now she ought to be about 1,000 miles east south east of Salvador Bahia, Brazil.”
The shortwave radio squealed. Doc Jerry tuned it and turned up the speaker. A foreign-sounding voice thundered across the control room. “I want Cutter.”
Cutter walked to the radio as the volume was adjusted. As he did he glanced again at the data phoned in from the Peregrine a day ago.
He spoke into the microphone. “Jim Cutter here.”
“Your boat needs help and right away.” It was not the voice of his captain. Cutter could hear the excitement in the voice, strong against static.
“What is going on?” he asked Doc Jerry. He spoke again into the microphone, “Why isn’t Hall calling himself?”
“My friend, it is Etranger. I call because we are beside your brig. Captain Hall wanted me to contact you with a report.”
“What happened, Captain Etranger?”
“The brig has lost the upper sections of its front mast. The foretop has let go from the bottom fore mast and has taken with it the highest mast, the topgallant. The antenna was below and has been destroyed. The transceiver and satellite phone are crushed from the falling gear. We are alongside. We work together with Captain Hall to bring down the remaining yards and rigging.”
Cutter asked, “Can you report on the boat and crew?”
“These two masts, they’re broken badly and will have to be completely replaced.”
Doc Jerry said, “Ocean gusts may be the culprit, Cutter.”
“The ship she is in good shape otherwise. The first mate has a fractured arm. All other crewmen and women are fine.”
Cutter replied grimly, “Maybe it is more than weather.” He could not forget the stranger who had been up in that mast when the workman died.
Doc Jerry went on, as if reading his thoughts, “We checked all that wood before it was installed. Those masts were prime, no cracks, no warping. Must have been a powerful blow with a lot of sail spread.”
Cutter spoke to the French captain. “What is the current status?” he asked his fingers tight on the microphone.
“Others from our crew have volunteered to go aboard the Peregrine to help. They attempt to untangle the lines and spars on the deck.”
“How bad is the man hurt?”
“He will be all right. He has been airlifted to the Chinese ship shadowing us. They will stand by but, by the rules, cannot assist with the repairs. My
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