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All American (Part XVII): Roger VaughanChanges
All American Part XVII of a novel in many parts by Roger Vaughan
Previously: The year is 1988. Andy Thomas made an ill-advised tactical call during a race in 50foot sailboats that nearly caused a dangerous collision. His father, Mitchell (at the helm), was livid. Later, at the awards dinner, a drunken Andy delivered a public declaration that made it virtually impossible for Mitchell Thomas, a well-known amateur sailor, not to mount a Round the World Race challenge.
Okay, you know the rest, but if you missed anything or need a refresher, go to www.tidewatertimes. com (writers, Roger Vaughan), where you can find all previous chapters.
It didn’t make sense that the sun was out, the wind was around five knots, that the crew was in shorts and light jackets, that the biggest heads’l was up and that All American was sliding along sedately at six knots. This was the Southern Ocean, an open swath of water encircling the globe between the Antarctic and the southernmost headlands of South America, Africa and Australia where the wind blows a gale most of the time. The wind blows a gale here because the Southern Ocean girdles the planet unimpeded. The temperature decreases as one moves southward, and air is deflected toward the poles by the Earth’s rotation, causing strong westerly winds. Without any land masses blocking the 20,000-mile-long ring of water that is the Southern Ocean, the prevailing westerlies also kick up frighteningly large, menacing seas. And, being bordered on the south side by the polar region, it’s usually quite cold. Blizzards can happen. This ocean has acquired nicknames that shiver the timbers of anyone who has sailed there and that get the attention of anyone who is even imagining being there; nicknames like “The Roaring Forties” and “The Furious Fifties,” after the degrees of latitude that define the Southern Ocean.
Roaring. Furious. That’s the
All American one awkward question had been how skippers planned to avoid Southern Ocean. growlers after dark. Jan Sargent
But this day the crew of All had broken the moody silence that American couldn’t have been in ensued by telling the press that more sublime climes, except for growlers didn’t come out at night. one thing: the enormous iceberg Off watch, Andy had stretched off to starboard about a mile away. out on the foredeck in the warm It was mesmerizing, a stark white sun and had been studying the big island of ice brushed with bluish berg with his pocket scope. Beshadows, glistening in the bright fore long, he found himself in the sun. It was low, maybe 60-70 feet emergency rubber boat that was high, and more or less flat topped, required equipment for all yachts but it had to be half a mile long. As in the race. It hadn’t taken him large as it was, there was three or long to convince Sargent it would four times more of it underwater. be a good idea. All American had So they said, but it was quite im- slowed to a crawl, and with the litpossible to imagine. tle 4-horse Honda, the rubber boat
The boat was would get to the berg quiet. The crew was Jan Sargent had told the for a quick look long transfixed by the press that growlers before All Ameriimmensity of the didn't come out at night can arrived. And berg. The boys were it would be a good quietly lost in their own thoughts. test of the rubber boat. Joe Dugan Most of the off watch was on deck, was with him, steering while Andy some taking pictures, all eager to continued to focus his scope on fully experience what for most of the berg. He was fascinated by an them was their first iceberg. Ice odd play of light on shadowy areas was one of the lurking dangers of the ice that seemed to be comon this leg. The large bergs would ing from within the berg. Andy appear on radar, but the smaller found himself telling Dugan about ones, “bergy bits,” and “growlers” his email astronomy pal and the the size of Volkswagen Beetles that unidentified object in outer space float very low in the water, pre- they had been watching, and how sented a perilous minefield for the his pal was convinced if an alien race boats. Sharp eyes front were craft came to earth it would land required at all times. At the press in the ocean. Why look for isolated conference before the start of this land sites when the ocean was so 7,500-mile leg from Punta del Este vast, so uninhabited? He told Joe to Fremantle, Western Australia, his pal was also convinced an ice132
All American tising clichés that weren’t quite right. The lip synch was off. The berg would be the perfect place for beer in one hand was labeled “Bub aliens to hide, undetected. Lite.”
They reached the berg in 10 Moving slowly, Joe scooped up minutes. All American looked tiny some sun-softened ice and molded behind them. They quickly saw a it into a ball that he threw at the flat ledge that made for easy ac- blonde. It passed right through cess. Their little Danforth anchor her. Andy and Joe scrambled as took a good bite in the ice. They one, falling and sliding down the tied a second line to an icy out- slope to their boat. The buzzcropping. They found a path to a ing was louder. They felt the berg larger ledge 20 feet up, and from move under their feet. It was going there a steep but manageable to capsize. . . “ANDY! For slope to the top. Andy was taking Crissakes, wake the hell up, we’ve in the incredible view of the not- got a weather system coming. so-furious Southern Ocean on this All hands, man! All hands! Get very rare, peaceful day when Joe dressed. Hurry it up!” Andy was hailed him. Joe was on his knees, yanked out of his perilous dream staring into a sec- with a start by Sartion of ice that was They felt the berg, move, gent yelling at him. very smooth and under their feet. From scrambling translucent, look- It was going to capsize. down the berg of ing like it had been his dream, he was melted and refrozen. Andy joined scrambling down the deck, trying him and was shocked by what had to get his bearings. He didn’t know gotten Joe’s attention: a metal which was worse, the dream or the surface below the surface of the reality. ice. It was unmistakable, but what That thought occurred to him was it, a ship trapped in the ice? again an hour later when he was An airplane? A space capsule? steering All American, surfing
The sudden buzzing coming downwind under spinnaker. The from the ice was also unmistak- weather had closed in. It was very able. An electronic female voice dark for midday. Visibility was made them jump. Andy and Joe limited by the strong westerly whirled around to see a volup- storm bearing occasional flurtuous blonde in a bikini standing ries of snow. Boat speed was conthere holding a six-pack of beer in stantly approaching 30 knots. The each hand. Her voice had a metal- boat was on a tear like a big, terrilic ring to it as she repeated adver- fied dog trying to shake its leash, 134
All American rifying thrill. He knew how surfers must feel when they managed challenging its master to maintain to catch a monster. He understood control. It was dangerous, exhila- how the underlying fear increased rating sailing, on the edge. the insatiable need to do it again,
At the bottom of some waves, and again. the wind would decrease and the The monsters were willing. boat would overtake the spinna- Hundreds, thousands of them ker, causing it to collapse, then fill were lining up to take their shots with a loud CRACK! as it climbed at those who would trespass up the next hill. The acceleration upon their province. The Southcould knock a person off his feet. ern Ocean seas have a distincWhen the boat began planing tive quality. They don’t have just down the front of a wave, a thin whitecaps or breaking sections on vertical column of water about their crests. The waves are laced three feet high would shoot up on with streaks of foam raised by the either side of the bow, close to the wind, foam turned a grayish white stem. Andy had made a note to ask by the dark blackish blue hue of Gib Frey what that was all about. the water in these latitudes. On a For the helmsman, good day, the water it was a signal the The underlying fear looks heavy, thick, afterburners had increased the insatiable somehow reassurbeen lit. After those need to do it again. ing. Add thick gray little geysers ap- clouds to take away peared, the wheel would begin to the sun, add that layer of menacfeel light in Andy’s hands ~ light ing foam streaks like the web of with very fine control ~ as he some hungry maritime spider, and watched the speedo climb quickly it looked as dangerous as it was. to 26, 28, often touching 30 knots. The danger had to be evaluated, He felt the boat begin to hum like a had to be responsibly inserted into well-balanced flywheel as it tried the crew’s race mentality. That to free itself from the sea and en- was easier said than done. The ter a performance zone beyond race mentality had been a preany computerized predictability. existing condition for every mem-
During these mad drops down ber of the crew, with the possible the faces of waves in the 40-foot exception of Andy, who had been range, Andy wondered how much shanghaied. But Andy was a comof the bow section was out of the petitor. Once he had yielded to the water. He wished he could see for inevitable, it hadn’t taken much himself. It was some ultimate, ter- to bring him into the game. Being 136
All American Below, no one had been sleeping very hard in the heavy conditions, in race mode was essential. It was and all were still dressed. Stu’s also risky. Risk was part of racing, shout had given them a moment necessary for winning, but it was to react. There would be bruises also an attitude that could easily aplenty, but nothing serious. Dave become addictive and go beyond Zimmer fetched up covered with reason. The tail ~ the boat, in this a pudding Teddy Bosworth had case ~ could easily start wagging made as a dessert, something Bothe dog if cool heads didn’t prevail. sworth would never let him forget. The several radio reports of trou- On deck, it was different. Andy ble in the fleet, a broken rudder and Caskie Kolegeri had grabbed here, a broken boom there, helped winches and were hanging on, those cooler heads (Sargent, Di- suspended, struggling to find a maris) with their soul searching, foothold. Stu clung to the wheel. helped remind them that you can’t Roger Davis had hold of the win if you don’t finish. The broach weather backstay, and Joe Dugan put the icing on that cake. had fetched up on the hydraulic
Stu Samuels boom vang connecthadn’t been on the As the mast came upright, ing the boom to the wheel for five min- the spinnaker began base of the mast. utes when a cross tearing itself to shreds. The spinnaker wave smacked the had to be released, weather (starboard) stern of All or they would have to wait many American about the same time minutes hoping it would tear those little geysers began appear- apart, releasing the wind and waing at the bow. It was very bad ter that was pinning them down. luck. Stu reacted quickly, but the The boat’s bottom was now broadrudder was useless. There was side to the big seas that were nothing he could do but shout a breaking on it, sending cascades warning and hang on as the boat of water pouring down on the went into a rapid right-hand turn, crewmen trying to hang on. They the lee rail rolling down hard as were all clipped on, but being ranthe spinnaker (now pulling side- domly dragged by their safety harways) hauled the mast toward the nesses was to be avoided if at all water. Very quickly the boat was possible. on its ear, stopped, with the mast The spinnaker sheet was undernearly parallel with the sea, held water on the leeward winch, undown by a spinnaker full of air available. Andy realized his hand that was also filling with water. hold was the winch holding the 138
All American 20 knots instead of 30. “We have guy, the line to the pole-end of the tered crew, “when it is unadvisable spinnaker. One of his flailing feet to set.” finally found a purchase on the The off watch went below to end of the traveler track that was clean up the mess. Teddy Bosnow vertical. He removed his right worth stuck his head up the hatch. hand from the winch and found “Just in case you think we dodged a the knife he always had strapped bullet,” the unhappy Bosworth anto his leg. He lunged and reached nounced, “there will be no pudding with all he had, scraping the knife for dessert.” edge across the guy. The line was *** under such extreme tension it exfound out,” Sargent said to his batploded, releasing and emptying the On the Long Island estate, spinnaker and allowing the boat to Deedee was in her bedroom, where slowly but surely right itself. With she was spending most of her time one end untethered, as the mast these days. It had been a progrescame upright the spinnaker began sion. First she had stopped driving tearing itself to shreds. and doing errands. Then she had Stu was on it, teasing the boat back to course as All American was on her way to confined herself to the house. The last time she’d gone sailwater drained slow- Freemantle again ing was with Andy ly off the deck and the day he’d come out of the cockpit. It didn’t help to beg her to get him off The Race. that a few waves broke over the That was a year ago now. For the stern until speed was reached. All last few months, she’d confined hands were now on deck, counting herself to her bedroom, an elegant heads and checking for damage to suite to be sure, with its writgear and themselves. The mainsail ing table, music system, televiand boom were miraculously in sion, plenty of comfortable chairs, one piece. So was the crew, freez- gorgeously appointed bathroom ing cold but all accounted for. The with heated floor, walk-in closet, spinnaker remains were quickly and a view of the boathouse and lowered and corralled, thanks to Sound. But it was still the bedroom. the sheet staying secured to the Deedee’s hairdresser came by once a sail. Sargent called for the number week to do her hair. Myrtle did the three jib to be raised for balance. shopping, cooking and everything Soon, All American was on her else. Myrtle brought meals that went way to Freemantle again, making mostly uneaten to the bedroom. It 140
All American Myrtle tied a bow on the box. Deedee took the box and put it in a had become rare to see Deedee in shopping bag. any other part of the house. “Now I need you to deliver this to
It was after 9 p.m. In dressing Becky Cotton. Just like this. Keep gown and robe, Deedee was at her it out of sight. You must hand it to writing desk folding papers and Becky personally. You know where putting them in envelopes that she her studio is. It’s for her birthday.” placed in a hand- “Yes ma’am, I some wooden box Mr. Thomas wanted to know know the place.” that Ossie had made. if Deedee were ready “And tell my husShe fastened the box for her evening cocktail. band yes, I’m ready shut and was trying for my cocktail.” to tie it with a ribbon when Myrtle Myrtle left with the box. Deedee appeared to say that Mr. Thomas slipped off her robe and got into wanted to know if she were ready bed with her back against the for her evening cocktail. wedge pillow she used for read-
“Myrtle, my hands seem to be ing, smoothing the covers around failing me. Could you tie this, her. Her frail frame hardly made a please?” bulge in the bed clothes.
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Mitch arrived with her drink and some papers on a silver tray. “I brought some faxes from Race Headquarters,” Mitch said. “They seem to be doing well again on Leg 2. Had some heavy weather, but all survived, no damage. Andy got high marks. A good article about the fashion show in Punta.”
Deedee gave Mitch a close look as she took the drink and the faxes. She hadn’t seen him so outgoing for some time. And saying something positive about Andy. Remarkable. Mitch could be quite charming, disarmingly so, when he needed to be. She knew that. Charming was probably the major secret of his success, in the early days, anyway. Charming and opportunistic, certainly a winning combination with her father. But as Mitch had climbed up the ranks, charming Mitch had been locked in his room by mean and nasty Mitch, the real Mitch. Occasionally, the charmer got let out briefly when it was needed.
“Thanks, Mitch,” Deedee said, taking a sip of her drink. “Very nice. A little. . . sweet.” Deedee smiled. “Oh, I can’t wait to read these.”
“I’ll let you be,” Mitch said, turning to leave. “Sleep well.”
Roger Vaughan has lived, worked, and sailed in Oxford since 1980.
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