Arthur Ransome - Swallows and Amazons (Complete Series)

“We won’t try to go too close, anyway,” said John, “or the trees’ll blanket us. If we go far enough out to keep some of the wind, we’ll be clear of all rocks.”

They churned past the low end of the island and Amazon was not yet in sight. At the foot of the island, in the lee of the trees and the big rocks that hid the harbour, was an oily patch of smooth water. John watched it carefully. At the edge of it there was not so much a ripple as a promise of one.

“That’ll do us,” said John. “Ready for a jibe. Rattle in the mainsheet, Mister Mate. Round she comes. Steady. That’s enough. We’ll be close-hauled the moment we’re clear. Now, haul in!”

“Here’s Amazon,” squealed Roger.

Amazon was gliding slowly towards them in the smooth water of the inner channel. Swallow had reached the low end of the island first, and now, after turning round the outer rocks, was coming, close-hauled, to meet her.

“She’s still running free. We’re close-hauled. She’s got to keep out of our way,” said John.

The Amazon met them and passed smoothly under their stern.

“Hurrah,” shouted Roger. “We’ve caught up yards and yards.”

Nancy laughed. “Just you wait before shouting ‘Hurrah’ till you’ve been in there a minute.”

Swallow moved more and more slowly, standing across towards the Dixon’s farm landing. There was hardly a ripple on the water. The island trees and the promontory above Shark’s Bay cut off most of the wind. The noise under the forefoot died away, and looking astern John saw Amazon, now clear of the outer rocks, come close to the wind and heel over to a puff that he wished with all his heart he could borrow to help poor Swallow along.

“Of course they were right to come down inside,” he said. “Running with hardly any wind is not so bad, but beating when there’s no wind to beat against is awful. And now they’re clear and can make long boards in a good wind, and we can only make short ones in no wind at all. They’ll have made up all we gained and more before we get out again.”

“Can’t we row?” said Roger.

“Rowing’s not allowed,” said John. “Don’t pinch her, Susan. Our only hope’s to keep her moving.”

“She’d head much nearer to the wind.”

“But she wouldn’t move so well. Get your weight a bit farther forward, you two.”

To and fro and to and fro again the Swallow beat in the narrow sheltered passage between the island and the eastern shore of the lake, while, outside, with a good wind, Amazon was making up in a single board, right across to the western shore, all she had lost by taking the inner passage on the run down.

“It’s one up to Nancy,” said John. “Two up, counting the start.”

“Shall we ever catch her?” said Roger.

“Can’t tell, till we see where she is when we get clear of the island again.”

“Nobody’s touched the fireplace,” said Titty, who had the telescope and was looking at the island. “I can just see it.”

“Bother the fireplace,” said Captain John. “Ready about. We’ll clear Look Out Point on this tack. Sing out as soon as you see them. I must watch the sail.”

“There they are,” called Roger, as Swallow, now on the starboard tack, sailed out close under the northern headland on which he had spent so many happy hours with the telescope.

“Coming this way,” said Titty.

“They’re on the port tack,” said Susan.

“They must have gone about by Cormorant Island,” said John. “They’ll fetch nearly to Houseboat Bay, the way they’re heading. They’re yards and yards ahead of us again.”

“Are they?”

“Of course they are. If we were to go about now we shouldn’t fetch anywhere near Houseboat Bay, and if we go on as we are they’ll be at the houseboat before we’ve gone far enough to head for it. Still, we’re out of that channel now. A bit more wind is what we want.”

“Well, it’s coming,” said Titty. “Look!”

A black patch of wind-combed water was sweeping down the lake marking the track of a squall coming down from the mountains.

“They’ll be getting it first,” said Susan.

“Amazon won’t like it,” said John. “She’s not as stiff as Swallow. Besides, all together, we must weigh more than them. Look, she’s feeling it already.”

They saw the little, white-sailed Amazon, far out in the middle of the lake, heel suddenly as the squall struck her. They saw her luff and come up into the wind with sail shaking for a moment. It filled a moment later, but again she heeled over and again she came up into the wind.

“They’ve got all they want,” said John.

“We’ll be having it in a minute,” said Susan. “Here it is.”

“Hang on, Susan. Don’t ease unless you have to. She’ll stand it all right. Keep her down to it. Good little ship.”

The squall whistled down on them. Swallow heeled over, picked herself up, and shot forward, the foam spirting from her bows. There was no need for her to come up into the wind. She was glad of the whole force of it to send her flying on her way.

At this point Swallow, on the starboard tack, was racing towards the western shore of the lake. Amazon, on the port tack, was scurrying towards the eastern, but was already so far ahead that when next she went about she was off Houseboat Bay, while Swallow, on the same tack, would, if she had gone about, have been only just able to make that point that Amazon had already reached. But John was taking no interest in Houseboat Bay, and held on his course, for the best wind was in the middle of the lake.

The squall passed, and once more there was only a light wind. John and Nancy were now sailing tack for tack. When Swallow went about, Amazon did the same, as if to be sure of keeping the distance she had already gained. For some time no one in Swallow could tell whether they were overhauling her or not. At last both little ships were nearing the islands by Rio, both on starboard tack, heading about north-west. Amazon, of course, was much nearer to the islands than Swallow.

“She’ll have to make up her mind pretty quickly,” said John.

“What about?” asked Titty.

“Whether to go through Rio Bay,” said John.

“They always do go that way,” said Susan.

“I know,” said John.

Just as he said it, they saw Amazon’s white sail flap as she came up into the wind and went about.

“Of course they’re going by Rio,” said Susan. “Aren’t we?”

“We’ll hang on a bit longer,” said John. “We’ll lose nothing by that, anyway.”

“We lost by not following them last time.”

“Yes,” said John. “They were right at Wild Cat Island, but they may be wrong here. They went about before they could see what it was like up the western side of the islands.”

“It’s narrow there,” said Susan.

“But look at the way Rio Bay is sheltered by the hills and by the trees on Long Island and by the trees on the point beyond. Well, we’ll know in half a minute.”

“They’ve passed the point of Long Island now,” said Roger.

“Good,” said John. “They can’t turn back. And now, look at that!”

The wind was driving clear down the narrower channel between the islands and the western side of the lake. It was blowing down that narrow passage straight from the Arctic. The channel was rippled with sharp little waves from shore to shore. And already Amazon was slipping quietly, slowly, on even keel, into the calms and smooth water of the usual channel under the lee of Long Island.

“We’ll beat them yet,” said John, and held on his course into the narrow channel along the western shore. “Short tacks it’ll be, but a good wind to make them with. We’ll beat her yet.”

“She’s behind the trees now, I can’t see her,” said Roger.