The Castle in the Sea: Quest of the Sunfish 2

  First published by Allen & Unwin in 2017

  Copyright © Text, Mardi McConnochie 2017

  Copyright © Illustrations, Jason Solo 2017

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.

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  ISBN 9781760290924

  eISBN 9781925576610

  Cover design: Design by Committee

  Cover illustration: Jason Solo

  Set by Midland Typesetters, Australia

  For Annabelle and Lila

  Contents

  The barometer falls

  Man overboard

  Beating into the wind

  An honest gentleman of the sea

  Afloat

  Ashore

  Castaways

  Exploring

  The castle in the sea

  Delicacies

  The castaway life

  Goodbye castle

  The Loudon Multi-Phasal Scanning Module

  Thieves

  Lost on the base

  Cadet Annalie

  The Weather Man

  Currents

  Rafting

  Pilot program

  The help kite

  Reunited

  North

  Sujana

  Papers

  Variables

  Under arrest

  When the rain came

  Paperwork

  Pieces of the machine

  Down the mountain

  The sweep

  Finding the Sunfish

  The registered owner

  Beckett again

  A boat race

  The next destination

  Tests

  Gloradol

  The Trans-Northern Express

  Downstream

  After Gloradol

  The kidnapping of Essie

  The real Spinner

  Spinner’s story

  The Sea of Brundisi

  Guys in a dinghy

  Breathe

  Pod underwater

  The old sports shoe factory

  Departures

  Promises

  The barometer falls

  ‘We’ve got some weather on the way,’ Will said.

  It had been three weeks since Will, Annalie, Essie, Pod and Graham the parrot had escaped from Little Lang Lang Island. They’d sailed east as fast as they could, fearing that at any moment an Admiralty cruiser would appear over the horizon. Their destination was a remote island, Dasto Puri, on the eastern reaches of the Moon Islands. This, they hoped, was the home of Dan Gari, one of the four scientists who had worked with Spinner on a top-secret research project, and whose name appeared on a coded list written in Spinner’s handwriting. This list was their only solid clue to Spinner’s possible whereabouts.

  For now, the sky was clear and the sun was shining. It didn’t seem possible that bad weather was brewing. But the barometer had begun to drop steeply; soon the wind dropped away and the water became a flat, oily slick, all the more disturbing because it seemed so placid. Then the wind began to blow again, a new wind from the south, and it came in hard and fast. The sails began to slam, the rigging to keen. The noise level rose with the wind, an audible warning of what was to come.

  ‘This is going to get bad,’ Will said. ‘We have to bring the sails in.’

  Graham sat on a railing at Will’s elbow. ‘Hate storms,’ he said. ‘Hate wet. Bad Will making Graham go to sea.’

  ‘Why is it my fault?’ Will said.

  Annalie, Pod and Essie set to work furling and reefing the sails, but the surging wind made it difficult, and a rising swell made the boat rock and pitch beneath their feet. The storm was coming at them like an express train. A wave broke over the boat, drenching them all, and they grabbed for whatever they could to prevent themselves being washed across the deck.

  A huge gust of wind blasted over them. The sails roared, the rigging shrieked, and Will thought he could hear the masts creaking. ‘Hurry!’ he shouted. ‘This is only going to get worse!’

  Annalie, Pod and Essie managed to get the mainsail furled and reefed. Will was working hard at the wheel to keep the boat with its stern pointed in the direction of the waves—the safest way for it to be pointing—but it kept drifting broadside. He watched with growing frustration as the others struggled, sure that he could do a better job himself, but not trusting any of them to be able to handle the wheel. Annalie paused to give an instruction to Essie, who hurried to do as she was told.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Will asked as she passed him.

  ‘Life jackets,’ Essie said.

  The waves were getting bigger, and the Sunfish was now climbing up waves that seemed higher than the boat, pausing horribly at the top, and then racing down the face of them and into the trough, the last sail straining in the ever-strengthening winds. If they didn’t get it down, they risked damaging the rigging or the mast, or worse, being dragged broadside where the waves could pound the boat, or even roll it.

  Annalie was in the bow, struggling to get the foremost sail in, when a huge gust snapped one of the ropes holding it. The sail flew free, almost flinging Annalie with it out of the boat, and then wrapped around the mast. She began to wrestle with it, but the sail, big and sodden, beating in the wind, was almost impossible to disentangle. Gusts of wind kept capturing it, and Will could see it wasn’t possible for one person to both furl the sail and disentangle the ropes trailing from it. It was at least a two-person job.

  They sailed up the steep face of another wave; as they reached the crest, it broke over the boat, submerging them in a storm of white water. For a moment, Will could see nothing. Then the water drained away and Annalie appeared again, clinging to the railing like a drowned rat.

  Essie struggled towards him, holding life jackets and safety harnesses. She was already wearing her own. ‘Here,’ she said.

  ‘Spinner doesn’t believe in safety harnesses,’ Will said. His father thought it was a mistake to put your faith in a harness which could fray or break or come unclipped, and which stopped you moving freely around the boat. He’d taught them it was better to trust your own strength and sea legs than put your faith in a bit of wire.

  ‘Then at least put this on,’ Essie said, shoving a life jacket at him. ‘If you don’t, Annalie’ll kill me.’ Will shrugged it on.

  Pod was now trying to help Annalie with the tangled sail, but neither of them seemed to be making much progress. Will knew Pod was mortally afraid of being washed overboard, and he could see this was preventing him from being much help.

  ‘Pod!’ he yelled, his voice tiny in the roar of the wind. ‘Take the wheel!’

  Pod looked back, his face drained by fear. Essie was clambering forward across the pitching deck, clutching more life jackets, to where Annalie still game
ly battled. Pod scrambled past her, grabbing a life jacket on the way, and took the wheel.

  ‘Try to keep her stern to the waves,’ Will shouted.

  Pod nodded and gripped the wheel tight. Will knew just how he felt—the boat was being slammed by waves, rocked by the wind, and the rigging was shrieking. It seemed scarcely possible that such a small craft could stay afloat and intact in this world of water. She’s a good boat, he told himself, as he scrambled forward to help Annalie. She’s been through worse. She’ll make it through.

  ‘Get the ropes untangled,’ he yelled as he reached the girls. ‘I’ll deal with the sail.’

  The girls tugged at the ropes and Will fought with the sail. Flapping and gusting, it resisted furling, and for a moment the wind caught it and Will felt it almost lift him off his feet. Annalie reached out and grabbed him, and then the two of them hauled in armloads of soaking-wet sail, bunching and scrunching it until it was under control.

  ‘I’ll stow it!’ Annalie shouted, and began to struggle with the sail towards the nearest empty locker.

  ‘We’re done here,’ Will shouted to Essie, over the roar of the storm. ‘You should go below!’

  Essie nodded, and the two of them turned to make their way back to the hatch, but the deck was starting to rear up again beneath their feet as they rode up the back of another huge wave. Will glimpsed Annalie still struggling to stow the sail in a locker on deck as the Sunfish reached the crest of the wave. For a moment, they were poised on the top of it, and then they were sliding, rushing down the face, fast, way too fast, the force of the water pushing the boat sideways. Will grabbed onto the railing. Looking back down the boat, he saw Pod frantically turning the wheel, but the rudder wouldn’t bite and he couldn’t control their motion. Still they slid, down and down the wave; it was breaking right behind them, and suddenly the great foaming wall dropped straight onto the Sunfish, burying it once more. This time, Will was knocked loose from the railing. Foam captured him and surrounded him and there was nothing solid to hold onto at all, just water on every side, and then the storm swallowed him.

  Man overboard

  The Sunfish struggled clear of the wave, water streaming from her deck.

  Annalie looked down into the locker—it was half-full of seawater, but the sail was finally in there. She latched it shut and looked up, and only then registered what sounded like a cry. She looked around her and saw no one, then looked back and saw only Pod, his mouth wide in a shape of distress. She could barely hear him, but her brain registered the sense of it: ‘Man overboard!’

  Terror, electric, jolted through her. ‘Where?’ she shrieked back.

  Pod pointed and she ran to look over the side.

  Gripping the railing, she could see a spot of orange in the water—Essie. She had her life jacket on, but already the storm was driving them apart, so fast, impossibly fast.

  She turned back to Pod and shouted, ‘Where’s Will?’

  Pod just held his hands up helplessly.

  Annalie dashed to the other side of the boat and looked for him, but there was no sign of her brother. She looked up and saw Graham screeching.

  ‘Graham, where’s Will? Can you see him?’

  ‘Graham look!’ he said, and took off into the storm. She watched for a brief fearful moment as Graham’s strong wings battled the fury of the wind, then she ran back to where Essie was still visible, calling to her for help. She grabbed a life-preserver on a long rope and flung it out, hoping Essie might swim to it, but it fell short. Essie struggled towards it, but made little headway.

  ‘Swim!’ Annalie screamed. ‘Swim!’

  But Essie was floundering in the massive storm swell, unable to close the gap.

  Annalie hauled the life-preserver back in and threw it again, using all her strength. But the waves were coming between them now, the storm pushing them even further apart. There was no way Essie could reach it. Annalie took another good look round, hoping to see a second spot of orange—a sign that Will was still on the surface, could still be saved. Nothing. Essie waved desperately, and Annalie’s heart twisted in her chest.

  She clambered back to the wheelhouse. ‘I’m going in after her,’ she said. ‘I’ll tether myself to the boat and you’ll have to haul us back in.’

  ‘If you go in the water,’ Pod said, ‘you drown. You and her both.’

  ‘But I have to try!’ Annalie shrieked. ‘I can’t just leave her there!’

  ‘You want to drown too?’ Pod said. ‘I can’t sail this boat by myself. You jump overboard, we’re all dead. You, me, all of us. You stay here, maybe we’ll make it.’

  Annalie stared at him. She knew he was right: even if she could swim out to Essie—unlikely—and manage to get to her without her friend panicking and pushing her under, and even if she could get herself winched back to the boat, in these mountainous seas, how would they ever get back on board without getting battered against the hull? It was an ironclad law of the sea that if someone went overboard, especially in a storm, you did not go in after them. She knew that. But the horror of it—leaving her best friend in the water to drown—was almost unbearable.

  ‘She’s got a life jacket on,’ Pod said. ‘Maybe she’ll be okay.’

  But neither of them really believed it.

  And where was Will? She hadn’t seen him, hadn’t seen his life jacket. She knew he’d put one on, but what if it was faulty, or hadn’t been done up properly, and was torn from him by the massive wave? Was he sinking, even now, to the bottom of the sea? But no, she didn’t want to think about it.

  She heard a tearing skrark from Graham, and the bird half-flew, half-crashed onto the deck, soaking wet and worn out from the wind. ‘No Will,’ Graham said. ‘Will lost.’

  Annalie looked at him in despair, knowing she couldn’t ask Graham to go out for one more pass. She could see he was exhausted.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ Pod asked.

  Annalie stood there, frozen. She couldn’t think. In one moment, her brother and her best friend had been washed overboard. They had been there, and then they were gone. Lost.

  ‘You know about storms. What do we do?’ Pod repeated.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Annalie said. ‘I don’t know.’

  They began to climb up the face of another wave. This one seemed even bigger than the one that had claimed Will and Essie, the ascent endless, and all the more horrifying because of the thought of what might lie over the front of it. They reached the top; they hung there; and then the boat pitched forward, until it seemed to be almost vertical on the wave, its bowsprit pointing straight at the bottom of the ocean. And then they began to fall. They fell and they fell, the boat accelerating like something out of a nightmare, and then it began slewing around, and another wall of water hit them and they were rolling. Annalie was hurled straight off her feet and the only thing that stopped her being washed into the water after her brother was the lifeline clipped to her life jacket. Unlike Will, Annalie thought there was a time and place for lifelines and this was one of them. She smashed hard against a railing, and then she was right underwater, bobbing and yanking like a fish upon a line and she thought, This is it, we’re rolling. We’re going to roll right over. But at the last moment, the boat came the right way up again.

  Something in the scream of the wind through the rigging made her look up through salt-stung eyes. The main mast had bent and broken—it wasn’t snapped off, but it would be useless until they could get it repaired.

  Her heart pounding, she turned and saw Pod still clinging to the wheel, wet and terrified, but determined. He was waiting for her to take charge of the situation, to tell him what to do, and the terror of that moment of being afloat underwater, not knowing which way was up and which was down, snapped her back into the present moment. She had to do something to save the boat, or they could founder.

  ‘We’re travelling too fast down the waves,’ she said. The knowledge was coming to her now, calm and certain, from some place in her memory. ‘We have to
do something to slow the boat down. We need a sea anchor.’

  Giving the boat some extra drag would slow it down and stop it accelerating and surfing down those waves. She scampered aft to where the long, heavy chains were kept, cleated one on, and heaved it overboard. The long chain paid out behind them, and they noticed the difference at once. The boat sat a little lower in the water, and when the next wave lifted them up there was no feeling of lift-off; the extra drag meant the Sunfish hugged the water and was no longer being picked up and carried by the waves. The boat, which had seemed to be flying perilously forward with the storm, now seemed to be sitting still, or even going backwards. The steering was heavy, and the boat sluggish, but they were no longer losing control of it with every wave that rolled along.

  The storm went on for hours. Annalie and Pod took it in turns to wrestle with the steering. Sleep was impossible; so was eating. Even though the cabin hatches were sealed, water pushed in around the seals whenever a particularly large wave crashed over the decks, so everything was sodden. And any item that had not been carefully stowed before the storm began was now a rolling, smashing, flying menace, tumbling backwards and forwards around the cabin with every pitch and roll.

  Graham screeched and squawked in the early part of the storm, but as the hours wore on he fell silent, clinging grimly to his perch, too tired to do anything but hold on.

  At around midnight the storm began to subside, and by the early hours of the morning it had passed over them entirely. Pod, Graham and Annalie, deathly tired, snatched a few hours of dreamless sleep.

  Beating into the wind

  When they woke the next morning, the sea had changed its face once more, switching from raging, snarling, storming grey, to a vast, tranquil green-blue.

  Pod, Annalie and Graham sat on deck. Everything below was wet and stinking, streaked with food and fuel and vomit. They’d found a small number of dry biscuits in a container that hadn’t smashed, and it made a melancholy breakfast.

  ‘So,’ Pod said after a while. ‘Now what?’

  Annalie took a moment to finish her biscuit, weighing the question. She looked up at the main mast, splintered and broken about a third of the way up its height, leaning at an angle, the rigging shredded. She looked at the array of solar cells and turbines—many smashed, others missing altogether. She thought about all the stormwater that had forced its way in and wondered if it had fouled the big water storage tanks in the hull. She thought about the food, the tools, the equipment smashed to bits as it rolled around the cabin. Then she thought, At least we only need to feed two people now.