A Sea Too Far Read Online Free

stowed forward, allowing the boat to be pulled into very shallow water. The mast was in place and the boom was strapped down with the sail properly lashed along its length. The long oar used for propelling the boat across shallow sand bars was tucked along the keel. Warren had left the boat exactly as Morgan had instructed after his last sailing adventure.
    “We need to pull the boat on the beach, honey,” Rhonda concluded. “I’m not sure she’ll last the night at anchor. The wind is really going to blow.”
    Warren wrinkled his forehead in confusion. “How are you and I going to pull the boat on the beach?” he asked. “We’re not strong enough.”
    “You know those three small poles by the side of the house?” Rhonda prompted. “Go get them and I’ll show you.”
    Warren ran eagerly up the hill toward the house and grasped one of the five-foot long poles. Conchshell scampered alongside and clamped her jaw on the end of a second pole. The boy dragged his pole down the sandy rise and placed it at the water’s edge. The dog’s efforts to pull the other pole were unsuccessful.
    “I appreciate the help, Conch,” Warren said. “But maybe you better let me get it for you.” With Conchshell barking encouragement, Warren towed the two remaining poles to the beach and arranged them in front of the first.
    The black cloud that initially smudged a far corner of the horizon now covered half the sky. Warren looked upward and felt as if a thick, roiling blanket were being pulled over his head. Much of the sky was now the color of coal, and the rain had increased to a steady downpour. His shirt and short pants were soaked and stuck uncomfortably to his skin.
    “Let’s wade out to the boat,” Rhonda called over the howl of the wind. “I’ll lift the anchor and together we’ll pull the boat toward the poles.”
    “Stay, girl,” Warren said firmly. “We’re not going for a sail.”
    Conchshell shook her head to clear the rain from her eyes and yelped acknowledgement. Her normally luxurious blonde coat hung limply on her shivering body.
    “The water’s getting deeper quickly,” Rhonda called as she pulled the anchor from the bottom and set it on the small teak deck of the dory. “The wind is pushing water across the flats right up on the island.”
    “How high can it get, Mom?” Warren yelled as he stood waist deep beside the dory and pushed it toward land.
    Rhonda looked toward the shore and tried to judge the height of the ridge where their cottage sat. “I don’t know, honey,” she called back. “Let’s hope it doesn’t make it to the house.”
    In the few minutes required for Rhonda and Warren to pull the boat to the shore, the water level had raised enough to float the first of the poles.
    “Grab that pole and place it ahead of the others,” Rhonda instructed. “Then let’s give the boat as big a push as we can right over the poles.”
    Together, with the help of the wind and waves tumbling on the beach, Rhonda and Warren managed to shove the dory up and over the first pole before it came to rest sitting on the next two.
    Rhonda quickly grabbed the first pole, now free behind the hull, dashed around the boat and placed in line. “Push again, honey,” she shouted. “Let’s see if we can roll the boat over all three poles. We’ve got to get the boat as high as possible on the beach.”
    Straining with all their strength, Rhonda and Warren heaved the boat across the poles as the wind roared toward the island and the rain pelted down on their saturated clothes. Three times the free pole was repositioned ahead of the dory, and three times mother and son shoved the boat higher on the beach.
    Finally, exhausted, panting breathlessly, and chilled by the driving rain and rapidly descending air temperature, Rhonda and Warren collapsed on all fours in the sand.
    “That will have to do,” Rhonda gasped as her head hung low and her hair draped against her face. “We’ll set the anchor and tie the