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Racing to a Rescue
Thad watched his pa guide the Neptune cautiously through the rising waves toward the now drifting Columbine. When near enough, the captain called, "Thad! Megaphone!" He handed it over. The captain put it to his mouth and shouted through the window, "Ahoy there, Columbine! Need some help?" "Can't steer!" came the cry. "Can you tow us into the city? We'll pay you well." "Be glad to, and never mind the pay," returned the captain. He handed the megaphone back to Thad and leaned toward the speaking tube. "Mr. Pordine, disabled ship needs a tow. Harbor rules say if we tow her, it's me that has to pilot her in. Is Oliver down there with you?"
"Tell him to tie a towrope to our stern. We'll need it to bring in this disabled ship. He'll have to steer us into the city. Tell him to hurry. Storm is getting worse." "Yes, sir," replied the engineer. "Oliver heard you." "Mr. Oliver," shouted the impatient captain. "Step lively! Bad weather is closing in!" As they drew nearer the Columbine, Thad kept looking for Mr. Oliver, then around at the weather. Whitecaps were frothing. The captain, both hands on the wheel, muttered, "Where's that "Yes. Thad's at the wheel. Can blasted Oliver?" Next moment he said, "Thad, weather won't wait. You're going to have to steer us against that ship, stern first. Can you?" Though taken by surprise, Thad said, "Think so." "Never mind think. Just do it 'til Oliver gets here. Should be half a minute. Abigail, help your brother." "Yes, sir," said Abigail, big eyed. A nervous Thad took the wheel into his hands. He was just tall enough to see out the forward window.
"Where's he going?" Thad asked his sister. "Toward the stern." Thad glanced at the Columbine. Her sailors were frantically furling her sails so that the boat wouldn't be pushed about by the wind. The rain was coming down in thin sheets now, soaking Thad and Abigail. The swelling waves heaved. The Neptune tossed. Trying to gauge the diminishing distance between the Neptune and the Columbine, Thad leaned toward the speaking tube. But he was unable to hold on to the wheel while speaking into the tube. "Abigail," he called. "Get to the tube. Tell Mr. Pordine one stroke back, then one forward. Hurry! Don't want another collision." Abigail jumped from the window and yelled into the tube, "One stroke back, then forward!" "Abigail? That you?" said Mr. Pordine. you hear me?" "Yes-tell him to take it slow." Thad, not daring to take his eyes from the scene right ahead, gripped the wheel tightly. Be calm, he thought. Be calm. "Abigail, what's happening?" His sister looked out the window. "Oliver's at the stern with Pa. They're tying on the rope." "Better be tight," said Thad. Next moment he heard his pa shout through the megaphone: "Thad! Slip back toward the Columbine a bit more! Keep it easy!" "Abigail," called Thad, "tell Mr. Pordine what Pa just said!" Abigail grabbed the speaking tube. "Pa says back up against the Columbine!" she shouted. "But easy!" "I hear you!" came Mr. Pordine's voice. "Abigail," said Thad, "keep telling me how we're going!" His hands were squeezing the wheel so hard his fingers hurt. "Make sure I'm doing right." Even as Abigail leaned out the window, the Neptune's paddle wheels went into reverse. The boat shuddered, then began to slip backward slowly. Thad, unable to keep from looking, let go of the wheel, dashed to the window, peered out, saw that they were heading directly toward the Columbine, raced back, and grabbed the wheel again. "You're doing fine, Thad!" he heard his pa shout. "Steady on!" "Tell Pordine to keep it slow," Thad yelled to Abigail. "Keep it slow!" Abigail yelled into the tube, then tore back to the window. "Little more now," Thad heard Captain Bates shout. "Good boy! Now-forward engines, then stop!" Thad hastily let go of the wheel, took two steps away, and bawled into the tube, "Forward engines, then stop!" "Yes, sir!" came the reply. The huge side wheels reversed, then halted, though the boat-quiet now-was still moving in reverse. Gradually, it stopped its backward drift. There was a sudden gust of wind. The Neptune rolled. Thad looked due east. Lightning flashed, followed by thunder. "What's happening?" he said. "The sailors on the Columbine just threw Pa a rope ladder," said Abigail. "He's got the towrope wrapped 'round his shoulder. He's climbing to the other boat. He's on her! They're grabbing the towrope. Tying it down." "Mr. Oliver didn't go with Pa, did he?" "Nope." "Is he coming here?" "Looks like. Thad," Abigail called, "I think they're ready." "We have to be sure." "Thad! Go forward!" he heard Pa's voice bellow. "Forward!" Thad, thinking Good thing he has that megaphone, leaped to the tube. "Forward!" he yelled toward it, then returned to the wheel. "I hear you!" came Mr. Pordine's voice. The paddle wheels began to turn forward. The Neptune shuddered. A gust of wind blew into the cabin. Thad pushed wet hair from his face. Slowly, the Neptune-pitching in the increasing swell of the higher waves-began to move, this time away from the Columbine. "Slow and steady," shouted Thad as much to himself as to his sister. "Abigail, tell Mr. Pordine two strokes!" Abigail did as she was told. "Isn't Mr. Oliver coming?" said Thad, feeling desperate. "Don't know!" The Neptune's side wheels churned, but the boat was not going forward. Abigail looked aft, toward the Columbine. "The towrope is stretching. It's tight!" "But we're not moving!" cried Thad, finding it hard to breathe. "What's the matter?" Text copyright 2006 Avi Illustrations copyright 2006 Lauren Castillo Reprinted by permission of Breakfast Serials Inc. www.breakfastserials.com |
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