The Other Side of Nowhere Read Online Free Page B

a way behind us. We must have sailed straight past it. I checked my watch. It was nearly two-thirty. I’d been asleep for over two hours and by the look of it, so had Nick. I gave his foot a firm shake.
    He awoke with a jolt, instantly alert.
    ‘Too much snoozing, Skipper. We missed the island!’
    Nick spun around to see. He took a quick glance at his watch and then the sky, where clouds were gathering. Then he barked out his plan.
    ‘We’ve got to go about. Get ready to tack. Johnno, pull on the headsail sheet when I let it off. I’ll take care of the main.’
    ‘I’ve got the main,’ George said, picking up a nearby rope.
    I took my position, noticing that George’s offer of help went unchallenged by Nick. Instead he poked Matt awake with his foot, and then settled behind the wheel. As soon as George and I were in place he called out, ‘Going about.’
    As The Dolphin ’s nose swung around we were faced with a wildly different sea. Instead of gliding over rolling waves, the yacht started to pitch down into deep troughs and bob up over jagged peaks.
    Nick let off the rope attached to the smaller sail at the front, which flapped madly in the wind until I could pull it on tight around the winch on the opposite side. We tipped over so hard that Matt, still groggy from sleep, fell and slid across the cockpit floor.
    ‘Hey … What was that for?’
    ‘Sorry buddy,’ Nick yelled. ‘Now we’re in for a real sail!’
    I shot a look at Matt. He looked dubious, as if he couldn’t see the value in a real sail if it meant being flung to the floor.
    Then Nick offered us all an apology of sorts. ‘Weather’s come up a bit. No big deal. But it’s coming right out from behind the island, so we’ll have to tack our way in. Means a bit of zigzagging. George, you take the wheel and I’ll look after the mainsail trim. If we get too much wind pressure and start to heel over, I’ll let the sails out, you just keep the course.’
    ‘Got it.’ George nodded confidently.
    ‘You guys take care of the headsail. Just wait for me to call the tack, then one lets go, the other pulls on. Got it?’
    We both nodded, with much less assurance than George had shown.
    ‘Okay then, let’s do it.’
    George took hold of the wheel. Matt took the high side while Nick and I sat down low in the cockpit. I tried to read the look on Nick’s face. I’d sailed with him a couple of times before and he knew what he was doing. My guess was he’d normally be happy as a pig in mud in conditions like this. But I could tell by the thin line of his lips that he was annoyed with himself. To have fallen asleep at the wheel was a major stuff-up – we could have easily smashed into the island and run aground. Now all of a sudden he had to work overtime to fix something that shouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.
    I settled into position with the rope wrapped loosely around my wrist, and even felt a bit of a buzz as we started to pick up speed. I gave a whoop as a wave slapped heavily against the side of the yacht, spraying me with a blast of seawater. This was going to be fun!

I just wanted to get off this crazy ride. The lurching deck, slippery with water, wouldn’t stay still for a moment, and my guts churned with every jerking movement.
    In the two hours since we’d turned The Dolphin around the weather had turned, too. The morning’s fluffy white clouds were long gone, replaced by a low grey canopy. And moving fast across the sky was a huge thunderhead – black, with sharp jutting towers.
    Things were no better on the water. Whipped white by the wind, the sea bucked The Dolphin like a rodeo bull. Every few seconds we dipped low into a trough only to face an oncoming wave as high as the yacht’s mast. There was just no relief. As soon as The Dolphin rose up she’d drop again, with a jarring thud onto the crest of the wave. It was like she was trying to heave us overboard and hightail it out of there.
    The roaring waves and