Melissa Good - Terrors of the High Seas

The mic crackled. “Hey, Dar.” Bud’s voice came through. “Got 70 Melissa Good a distress call casting down here. 117.9”

“Thanks. I’ll tune it in,” Dar answered. “We’re coming in around the eastern side of your island.”

“Yeap.” The mic clicked off.

Dar frowned, then shook her head and tuned in the marine radio. For a few moments, there wasn’t any sound, and she thought she’d gotten the wrong channel. Then a shrill feedback sound erupted and a voice came through.

“Mayday! Mayday! Help!”

“Oh, that’s professional,” Kerry sniped.

“This is Siren of the Sea …in bad weather… sinking…”

The words cut off. Dar peered at the radio, then looked behind them. “I don’t think that’s them.”

“Help! This is Siren of the Sea … Thirty foot sailboat in bad weather. I lost my engine and snapped the mast lines. Taking on water.”

“Oh, that’s bad.” Kerry sat up. “He needs help.” She looked at Dar. “I’ve crewed a thirty footer, Dar. It doesn’t stand a chance with no sail control.”

Dar keyed the mic. “ Siren of the Sea , this is Dixieland Yankee . Do you know your location? Over.” She released the mic and waited.

There was no response. “ Siren of the Sea , do you copy?”

There was still no answer. Finally they heard, “Hello? This is Siren of the Sea to whoever’s calling. I think I’m off St. Johns…off the western coast!” A break filled with static sounded before they made out, “…raining like hell! I think the swells are twenty feet!”

Kerry got up. “I’ll tell our passengers and get out the safety gear.” She kissed Dar. “Think we can find him?”

Dar flipped on the radar scope, which showed not much of anything. Given that she was not familiar with the waters and had no idea what she was really looking at, she didn’t want to give Kerry false hopes. “Do my best,” she replied.

“Done deal, then,” Kerry answered blithely before she turned and made her way to the ladder.

Dar shook her head then plotted a new course, this one curving back toward the sound of thunder and the rising wind.

Chapter

Eight

DAR BLEW THE wet hair out of her eyes and leaned forward, peering with a scowl through the rain lashed darkness. The weather had worsened severely, and the boat was now being tossed by fifteen-foot seas. Dar had turned on the big searchlight on the bow, but it really did very little to penetrate the darkness. The light reflected off the huge raindrops and almost made it seem like she was plowing into a silver curtain.

The Bertram rolled in a swell and Dar turned into the wave, watching both her radar and sonar with careful eyes. She was concentrating so hard, she didn’t hear Kerry come up the ladder and almost jumped right through the console topper when her partner plopped down in the seat next to her. “Yeeeah!”

Kerry sniffled and pulled her jacket closer. “Sorry.” She patted Dar’s back. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Mmph.” Dar collected her composure. She glanced at Kerry, watching her slit her eyes against the rain. “Y’know, there’s no reason for you to suffer up here in this mess.”

“Yes, there is,” Kerry disagreed. She carefully put her elbows on the console. “I can either sit up here and brave the best Mother Nature can offer, or I can stay downstairs and chuck my cookies.”

“Ah.” Dar peered more closely at her. “Yeah, you look a little…”

“Just call me Kermit,” Kerry admitted, swallowing. “Didn’t think I got seasick.”

“I think you can blame the weather this time,” Dar comforted.

Kerry grimaced, and then managed a wan smile as the Bertram rolled in the waves again.

“Watch the horizon,” Dar advised, reaching over and circling Kerry’s wrist with two long fingers.

“Honey, I love you,” Kerry leaned against Dar’s shoulder, “but you don’t have to hold my hand, really.”

Dar chuckled softly as she pressed down on Kerry’s wrist with her fingertips. “Try calling him again,” she suggested, more to distract Kerry than because she believed the man in distress would 72 Melissa Good answer. There had been no response to their last two hails, and Dar was afraid their unlucky friend had run into potentially fatal trouble.

Kerry took a few deep breaths, and then picked up the mic.

“ Siren of the Sea , Siren of the Sea , this is Dixieland Yankee . Do you copy? Over.” She paused and listened to the crackling, closing her eyes as the boat hit a trough and pitched down.

Dar shifted her grip slightly and then pressed again, watching Kerry’s face carefully. After a moment, her eyelashes flickered open and a look of mild surprise appeared. “Better?” Dar asked hopefully.

“Eyah,” Kerry murmured. “Did you do that?”

Dar smirked.

“Ooh. I love you,” Kerry said. “Hang on. Siren of the Sea , Siren of the Sea , do you copy?”

A harsh buzz suddenly cut the static, then a second. A bolt of lightning lit up the sky, and they both ducked in reflex. Dar grabbed Kerry and shielded her as she felt every hair on her body stand up. For that brief instant, the imperiled boat was forgotten; the storm was forgotten. Dar heard a loud crack, and then the glare vanished, leaving a wild blast of thunder in its wake.

“Holy shit.” Dar looked up, searching the topmast anxiously, then her eyes went to their instruments, hoping like hell they hadn’t lost the GPS or the sonar. She relaxed when the iridescent glow of the apparatus remained steady. “Wow.”

“Dar?” Kerry’s voice was muffled. “I think you can let me up now.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Dar straightened, but kept one arm around Kerry’s shoulders.

“You all right up there?” Charlie’s voice suddenly erupted in the radio. “That sucker hit the water just off the stern.”

“We’re fine,” Kerry answered. “Everything’s all right.”

Dar glanced up at the sky. “This isn’t gonna work. I’m going to turn and get out of here,” she decided. “We’ll report the mayday when we get into dock.” She reset their course and checked the depth. “I’m not risking you or the boat.”

“Dar.”

Dar turned and looked her in the eye. “Yes?”

Kerry knew that look. She knew Dar didn’t like to be challenged, especially when she was off balance and scared. Kerry could see the jangled nerves in her lover’s eyes, and by the short, restless motions of her hands on the controls she knew that Dar’s temper was very much on edge. “We’re all he’s got,” she said very gently. “Can we try for a few more minutes?”

Dar very much wanted to say no, Kerry could read it. “Let me call him one more time and see if he can at least give us a click. If Terrors of the High Seas 73

not,” she watched the rain plaster Dar’s hair to her forehead, half obscuring her eyes, “at least we tried.”

A deep breath preceded her capitulation. “Okay,” Dar said briefly. “Then, please, Kerry, go below.”

“Okay,” Kerry agreed, flexing her hand around the mic. She hesitated, set it down, then reached out and caught Dar’s hand, squeezing it. “Thanks.”

“Grumph.” Dar adjusted the throttles and started the boat on a long, shallow curve to cut across the swells. She didn’t want to turn too sharply and get caught inside them, since the waves were cresting up to around twenty feet.

“ Siren of the Sea … Siren of the Sea …if you can hear this, please key in twice.” Kerry requested, speaking clearly. She listened intently to the hiss. “ Siren of the Sea , please key in twice if you receive this. We are trying to locate you.”