Arthur Ransome - Swallows and Amazons (Complete Series)

“You don’t need to,” said John. “We’ll see where she is when we come out the other side of the islands. Ready about!”

Swallow shot up into the wind and a moment later, heeled over on the other tack, was dashing back across the narrow channel. Narrow as it was, every yard of it was good sailing. From shore to island, from island to shore and back again, never for a moment was Swallow without a wind to send her singing on her way. “Nancy can’t have found anything like this in there behind Long Island,” said John, half aloud and half to himself.

They were nearly through the channel, heading for the most northerly of the islands on that side of the lake, when they saw Amazon’s white sail standing to meet them out from Rio Bay.

“We’ve beaten her! We’ve beaten her!” shouted Roger.

“It’s a near thing anyhow,” said John. “We’ll know better in a minute or two. Bother this island. Ready about!”

Swallow went about just before coming under the island and headed, now, like Amazon, on starboard tack for the western shore. She reached it, went about again, and, on port tack now, hurried away to meet her rival.

“It’s a very near thing,” said John again, “but she’s still a wee bit ahead.”

“And the wind’s dropping,” said Roger, as if he were talking of someone dangerously ill.

The two little ships swept nearer and nearer to each other.

“We’ve got to keep out of their way,” murmured John to himself.

“Why?” said Titty. “Why should we?”

“We’re on port tack,” said John. “Not that it makes any difference,” he added. “She’ll clear us easily.”

“You’ve caught up a lot too much,” shouted Captain Nancy, cheerfully, as the Amazon passed across the Swallow’s bows with twenty yards to spare.

“Not quite enough,” shouted Captain John.

Over his shoulder he was watching the promontory on the southern side of the entrance to the Amazon River. “We mustn’t stand on one second longer than we need,” he almost whispered.

“Amazon’s going about,” called Roger.

“She’ll have to look out for us if we go about now,” said John, “for then she’ll be on port tack and we’ll be on starboard.”

He glanced again over his shoulder at the promontory.

“There’s shallow water off the end of it,” he murmured.

Titty was patting the main thwart, just to encourage Swallow. “Go it! Go it!” she was saying.

“I think we can just do it,” said John. “Ready about!”

“Too soon,” said Susan. “Too soon. We can’t head above the shallows.”

John said nothing, but took the main sheet from Susan.

Amazon, on the port tack, was coming towards them, Nancy glancing now at Swallow, now at her own sail, now over her shoulder at the point. Swallow had made up a little and Nancy was not sure whether she could cross her bows. She could, perhaps, have just done it, but, instead, went about and, like John, headed for the mouth of the river.

The two little ships were now at last on the same course, and Amazon was only ten yards ahead.

“Oh, do go it!” said Titty.

“Don’t forget the shallows,” said Susan.

“I haven’t,” said John, and whispered to Susan. Susan stared at him.

“It’s the only chance,” he said.

Susan whispered to the others. “Hang on to something. Hang on tight, and keep just where you are whatever we do.”

“What for?” said Roger. But there was no time to explain.

Beyond the point they could already see the reed-beds on the northern side of the river, the reed-beds where Nancy and Peggy had lurked in Amazon the night of last year’s war.

The wind fell away almost to nothing.

Titty whistled, bits of two different tunes.

“Shut up,” said John. “We want a lull now more than anything.”

Close ahead of them was Amazon, now almost at the point, and Nancy was wishing she had held on a little longer before trying to head for the river. She, too, remembered the shallows, and was thinking of the centre-board deep below the keel of her ship. There was no doubt about it. She would have to make one more short board out into the lake to be able to clear the shallows and get into the river.

“They’re going about again,” shouted Roger.

Just and only just Amazon cleared Swallow as she headed out once more.

“You’ll be running aground,” shouted Peggy, as Swallow held on her way.

“I can see the bottom,” shouted Roger.

“Now then, Susan,” said John.

“Hold tight, Roger,” said Susan.

Just as Swallow came over the shallows at the point, Susan and John threw all their weight over on her lee side and brought her gunwale so low that a few drops lapped across it. This, of course, lifted her keel. The wind had dropped to next to nothing, and so, on her beam ends, Swallow slid across the shallows and into the river.

“Deep water,” said Susan, and in a moment John had flung his weight back to windward and Swallow rose again to an even keel, just in time to meet a little puff that carried her up the river to the Beckfoot boathouse. The same puff caught the Amazon, but that last short board out into the lake had lost her twenty yards and more, and Swallow slipped past the boathouse a full two lengths ahead of her.

“Well done, little ship,” cried Titty. “Well done! Well done!”

“Would we have lost if we’d touched?” asked Susan.

“I don’t know,” said John. “But anyhow, we didn’t touch.”

“You could see the minnows running away,” said Roger.

“Well done, Skipper,” shouted Captain Nancy. “I thought you’d made a mistake and headed in too soon. I never guessed you’d done it on purpose. Shiver my timbers. If only I’d thought of pulling up the centre-board over the shoals we might have done you. But I don’t know. I saw as soon as we went about for the river that we should have to make another tack, so I let her go a bit free. Perhaps I couldn’t have cleared the point itself. Jolly good race, anyhow.”

“I was a proper donkey running down outside Wild Cat Island and having to crawl back inside with no wind.”

“What about me never thinking that with this wind you might do better through the narrow channel than by coming into Rio Bay?”

“Good, good, good little ship,” said Titty.

“Lower away,” said Susan. “Take the gaff as it comes, Titty. Gather in the sail, Roger. No. Don’t try to get up.”

“So here you are,” said Mrs. Blackett. “And who won?”

“Who won?” asked the ship’s baby.

“Who won?” asked Mrs. Walker.

All three of them had come down to the boathouse to find the crews of the Swallow and the Amazon already stowing their sails.

“Hullo, mother.”

“Hullo, Bridgie.”

“How do you do?”

“Well, you scaramouches.”

“Who won?” said Bridget again.

“You did,” said Peggy. “At least your ship did.”

“John did what you told us father did in that race when he slipped over the shoals on his beam ends,” said Susan.

“It was jolly good work,” said Nancy, “and a fine race. We’ll have lots more.”

“And Swallow’s better than ever she was,” said Titty.

“She certainly looks very smart,” said Mrs. Blackett.

“I do believe she’s a wee bit better than Amazon in going to windward when there’s a squall,” said Nancy. “But when it comes to running, and we pick up our centre-board, Amazon simply slips away from her.”

“Hurry up now and come along to take part in the feast,” said Mrs. Blackett. “You must all be hungry by now.”

“We are,” said Nancy. “Bring out the roasted ox and broach a puncheon of Jamaica. It was great sailing.”