Page 72 of The Hitchhiker in Panama
“Give me the line,” he said urgently.
I felt so powerless. I didn’t understand what was happening, and even if I did, I would be no help.
Jonas quickly tied the line to the base of the furling drum and, rushing, threaded the line through the deck hardware and cleated it off. No sooner had he finished then the block at the base of the tack line exploded and the line holding the sail down to the deck snapped. I gasped as Elayna and Jonas both stumbled backward and struggled to regain their balance.
The force of the sail and the wind flung the furling drum out toward the sea, but it was stopped by the new line Jonas had just put on. The whole boat shuddered and careened for a moment before righting itself. The sail was still up and full, but flying off the side of the boat instead of the bow.
My eyes round, I looked back at Eivind. His eyes were wide too, his mouth open in shock. I didn’t know much about sailing, but I knew how fortunate we were that Jonas had gotten the line down in time.
Eivind ran his hands over his head and bent down. “Fuck!”
Marcella was behind him, face grim.
“Okay, back to the cockpit, everyone,” Jonas commanded. The five of us gathered around the helm. “The sail is fine for a few minutes, but we do need to get it down. Without the furler, this is going to be hard. We are going to have to drop the halyard down and pull the sail in ourselves.”
We all nodded.
“Marcella, I will have you drop the halyard down so the rest of us can pull the sail in. Okay?”
She nodded, her face white with fear.
Jonas fired up the engine and adjusted the course so the wind blew the sail back onto the boat. The sail billowed and flapped, and the four of us positioned ourselves along the lifeline. Jonas made sure we were all secure in our harnesses and clipped onto the boat before he gave Marcella the signal to start lowering the sail.
Reaching as high as he could, Jonas grabbed the sail and tugged. Eivind pulled on the sheet until he could reach the sail and he gripped it and dragged it down too.
“Elayna, switch with me and keep the part on the deck from filling with wind again,” Jonas said. Elayna crouched and tried to organize the mess of sail that piled up. Edges kept catching the wind and flapping.
Suddenly the sail stopped descending. Without the downward momentum, it filled with wind and started to blow out to sea.
It pulled our crew as we struggled against it, and Elayna slid along the deck of the boat until she slammed against the lifelines.
“Drop it down, Marcella, drop it down!” Jonas shouted.
The sail dropped again, faster this time, and we watched in horror as the top of the sail blew overboard and into the water.
“MARCELLA, PUT THE ENGINE IN NEUTRAL!” Eivind bellowed.
We dragged the sail beside us, but it, too, dragged us. We struggled with our grips on the sail, braced ourselves against whatever we could find, and it still wasn’t enough. Next to me, Eivind’s back strained, trying to not lose the sail.
I glimpsed down into the water as Eivind grunted with effort. The top half of the sail was overboard, and as we pulled, I could see the sail had scooped up water, weighing it down.
“We need to pull from the side!” I shouted.
“I can’t let go!” Eivind gritted out.
I let go of my part and quickly slid around his body. I started pulling at the sail, trying to find the side of the spinnaker so I could release the water trapped in the billows. Finally I found the red tape lining the edge of the sail and pulled, dumping the water back into the ocean and releasing the weight.
Jonas, Elayna, and Eivind heaved again and the sail started to come up, soaked and salty. Hand over hand, we pulled it the rest of the way up and fell back onto the deck, piled on top of the thin material.
We were quiet, panting and stunned into silence.
“Jesus,” Eivind whispered.
We slowly started to move, as if testing limbs and shaking them from sleep. Eivind pulled me close, tucking me into his body. His hands shook, exhausted from the strain.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded against his chest.
