"If I could have everyone's attention," a deep voice said from a podium on the edge of the room. It looked as though a wedding had been held in the building the night before, and we were using the tables and chairs. Given how beautiful the building and the view were, it seemed a perfect place for a wedding. I shook my head, clearing out thoughts of weddings. I needed to pay attention.
"Excellent. First off, I'm so glad you are all here. As you know, this is the last race of the season and pits the best sailors of the summer against one another. Congratulations on making it to the elite competition." The man paused and glanced around the room. He was a large man with a wide barrel chest and a thick, black beard.
"First, the details of the race. You will all start here in Chicago and sail to Mackinac Island. The race course is approximately 333 miles and typically takes forty to sixty hours to complete. The record time is less than twenty-four hours." He continued on about how it was a double-handed mixed gender race, but I was more interested in the weather report.
"Now, some of you have already spoken to me this morning, but weather reports call for deteriorating conditions. High winds and an early winter storm are predicted to hit the lake sometime this afternoon. Despite this, it's tradition to race on this weekend, and we're not changing that." The black-bearded man looked around the room.
A sailing team from another table stood and left the room. They were obviously quitting the race due to the mention of weather. The speaker watched them go. "Weather conditions will be difficult for this race, but the committee has deemed it safe enough to race."
I looked over at Robbie, but he sat confidently in his chair, arms crossed as he took in the information. I didn't like storms. As a sailor, I had learned to deal with them, but that didn't mean that I enjoyed them. The most frightening storm I had ever been in was the one I had sailed single-handed into and gotten caught. It was the storm that killed my parents. There had been storms after that, but never one that frightened me as much.
The speaker continued at that point, going over the race course and the rules. These were all things that Robbie and I had gone over before and were, for the most part, fairly standard. I had followed this race every year, and because of that, I knew the course like the back of my hand. I felt like I could sail the entire thing blindfolded.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Thomas Grant and his sailing partner laughing at another table. Grant turned, making sure he had my attention, and winked. I felt a blush sear across my cheeks. I hated that man. When the speaker finished, two males sitting at the table next to us stood and greeted Robbie.
"Hello, Robbie," one of the men said. He was thin and lanky while his partner was short and stout.
"Hi, Jackson," Robbie greeted the tall man warmly, shaking his hand. "You going to be our competition?"
"Hell no! I saw that weather report. They're playing it down, but it looks like a real doozy of a storm. It's too late in the season to be taking risks like this." Jackson shook his head, and the stouter man frowned.
"You two are quitting already?" Robbie asked. "I guess Sam and I here will have the race in the bag. You were our only real competition."
The stouter man laughed. "You seriously crazy enough to try and race this storm, Robbie?"
"We aren't going to race this storm, Burt. We are going to beat it," Robbie replied confidently.
The tall man gave me an appreciative look. "Lady, you got yourself a crazy skipper. He's good as gold, but I think there might be a few screws loose if you know what I'm saying."
I laughed. "I think you're just scared of us. That storm's got nothing on us!"
Jackson grinned. "Robbie, I think you finally found a girl as crazy as you are." Everyone laughed.
"Good luck, you two. We've got to go move the boat from the starting area. We'll be cheering for you," Burt said, and the two men smiled politely and left as Robbie settled back into his chair.
A little apprehension started to worm its way into my head, so I made eye contact with Robbie. "You sure we're going to be all right with the storm?"
Robbie reached across the table and took my hand in his.
"Sam, we are going to knock the socks off this competition. You and me? We're a team. This storm isn't going to be as bad as they seem to think it is. We have this." His green eyes sparkled with certainty and I couldn't help but feel a little better. I knew Robbie liked to push boundaries, but if he thought we could sail through the storm, I believed him. We were a team and I knew we could do anything together.
Chapter 17
The water was dark blue-green, with white dots of cresting waves scattered across the horizon. The lake stretched out before us, endless like an ocean yet contained. The main sail caught the stiff breeze, pushing us out into the race course at a strong speed. White sails filled the air, crackling and humming as the boat surged against the waves.
Little triangles of boats fanned out across the lake, each boat confident and racing to win. The water undulated beneath us, the wind catching in the sails with a gentle whisper. The sun glinted on the water, reflecting into the sky like a giant sapphire. Despite the warnings for the weather, it was a beautiful, sunny day.
Robbie grinned at me, standing at the wheel, the proud skipper of Avery's Hope. His muscles flexed gently under his thin shirt as he turned the wheel slightly, coaxing the Hope for more speed. I grinned back, the wind twisting my ponytail. I wore my lucky racing ball-cap, and my favorite sailing leggings and rash-guard t-shirt. The wind was cold but not unpleasant, and the sunshine was warm upon the deck. The day was off to a wonderful start.
The wind was with us, but it was also with Grant’s boat. His gun metal gray sails seemed to be always just in front of us. His taunting laughter danced across the water as he pulled further ahead. Anger boiled in my stomach, and I kept the sails sheeted in tight; even though it was still early in the race and things could easily change, the fact that he was in front of us annoyed me. The dark looks Robbie cast in Grant's direction told me he felt the same.
Clouds began to pepper the sky, slowly growing bigger and darker the farther we sped along the lake. We had sailed all day, the time flying past without incident. The sun gave one last glimmer of red before disappearing below the horizon and from sight. The clouds quickly filled the space where the warm light had once been, and the deck grew cold and gray. I went down into the galley and brought a late dinner back up to Robbie. It was just a simple breakfast-style burrito we had pre-made for the journey: scrambled eggs, spinach, black beans, and cheese all rolled neatly into a whole wheat tortilla. It was tasty and easy to eat, and we munched happily as the dark of evening surrounded us.