19 minute read
All American (Part XVIII): Roger VaughanChanges
All American
Part XVIII 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. ***
Andy was stretched out on his bunk, drifting in a semiconscious state as a result of some crazy drug Sargent had said would relax him. It had relaxed him, all right. Knocked him right out. He’d gotten the fax several hours ago, and it was still a bolt out of the blue. Deedee was dead. Not much else. The message was in formal language, like a lawyer had written it. Signed by Mitch.
Deedee had “passed away peacefully” in her sleep. Period. Died?
Really?! My mother?
Andy had been stunned, devastated, then enraged by the cold tone of the note, an electronic message sent to her son who was floating around on a boat a thousand miles from nowhere, already detached from social reality, in limbo. Andy had never quite gotten used to the remoteness of being on board a small boat in the open ocean. The impossibility to respond to a dire circumstance, the inability to get somewhere when he was needed, had turned remoteness into frustration resembling torture. First the Mountain View debacle, now this, Deedee, his mother, the only real foundation in his otherwise untethered life. His mother who really loved him. Gone. He knew she wasn’t in great shape. He knew she had given in to what seemed to him like minor ailments, and, okay, she was an alcoholic, but hell, a well-paced, functional alcoholic, 135
them had tried to be helpful. Andy had been raving about getting a helike she could live to be a hundred. licopter to lift him off so he could fly
Andy didn’t have much experi- home. Joe had sat with him while ence where death was concerned. the drug was taking charge, good He was just a kid when his grand- old practical Joe Dugan telling him father had died. That had been a big they were hundreds of miles out of deal, with many hundreds at the fu- Fremantle, first of all, beyond helineral. He’d been sad because, well, copter range, and there’d be nothit was a sad event. And his grandfa- ing for him to do if he were home, ther had paid attention to him. He nothing but probably get his ass in never imagined the old man loved trouble, or get drunk, cause a scene, him. He was just interested in him, wreck a car, get ugly with Mitch. like Andy was a science project, Maybe Joe was making sense, but some lab animal on two feet. But it sense was temporarily an unavailwas attention, and the old man had able concept for Andy. We’re talking such cool stuff ~ boats, motorcycles, about death, Andy thought, gone cars, and most of all the big tele- forever. . . how much freaking sense scope, the ticket to does that make? the universe in all its Sense was temporarily Sargent made Duamazing grandeur. an unavailable concept gan’s practicality It had hooked Andy for Andy seem mild. Sargent big time, and he was always went right grateful for that. The funeral did its for the core. The last thing Andy thing. There were tears everywhere. had heard before the drug took over The sadness was contagious. A few was Sargent saying it wasn’t going other relatives and acquaintances to change. The sooner Andy figured of Andy’s had died, but as for death out how to live with it, the better causing deep, personal trauma, this off he would be. “You are where you was a first. are, and there’s nothing to be done
Being on a 60-footer with eleven about that,” Sargent had said to other people, there was no soli- him. “Do your job. Deedee wanted tude. He was a mess, alternately you on this race. Make her proud.” overcome with grief and disgusted Like with most things, Andy knew with the way he had been informed; Sargent had a nasty habit of being disgusted with his situation, his right. life. Grief-stricken and disgusted. That’s when Sargent and Joe Dugan *** had unlocked the boat’s medical kit “W elcome back.” It was Joe and produced the relaxant. Both of Dugan, ever watchful. “How’d that 136
ica’s Cup in 1987, Andy knew about the so-called Fremantle Doctor, the work? Seems to have put you right strong onshore breeze that comes out.” up most afternoons off Fremantle.
“Big time.” Andy stretched, He wondered how many miles off rubbed his eyes. Joe gave him some Fremantle the Doctor could be felt. water. “My mother died, right? That He started poring over the latest wasn’t just a bad trip?” weather faxes. The southeasterly
“Right.” breeze being directed along the
“How long I been out?” coast of the Australian Bight was
Joe looked at his watch. “About giving them the tight reach they eight hours.” were on. It was early yet, but Andy
“No other faxes?” could see indications of it already
“Nope.” starting to clock toward the south
Andy was quiet, took another about 70 miles out. He’d watch it. slug of water. “That stuff dries you “Sail!” It was Zimmer who spotout.” ted Ram Bunctious. The boat was
“Yes, it does. Feel okay?” a dot on the horizon, barely visible
“Yeah. Where are to the north, maybe we? What’s up?” Ram Bunctious was a dot ten miles away. After
“Been quiet. But on the horizon, maybe ten racing across nearly we’re closing on Fre- miles away 7,500 miles of open mantle. A few hun- ocean, there she dred miles. We think Ram Bunc- was. Unbelievable. tious is nearby.” “Okay,” Sargent said from the
“That could be fun.” wheel. “Now we pay attention. I
“Yeah, Jan is cranked.” want my case of rum back.”
Andy got up, stretched, walked The watch changed in half an to the navigation station, sat down, hour. Andy was up, but he asked and began catching up. It was noon, Stu if he minded taking the helm. not 12 p.m. Astronomers know that He wanted to look at the navigation. noon marks that moment when half He had an idea. “Really? Me?” Stu the day’s light has passed, whether said. “I can’t believe you want to it’s 12 p.m. or not. The boat was give up a wheel watch that’s going to close reaching in ten knots of wind. be so much fun.” Andy had to smile The biggest heads’l was up. The as he went below. The wind had inwatch was paying attention, but creased, pushing 20 knots. They had relaxed, chatting quietly. From fol- changed down to the number two lowing the 12-meter world champi- jib and remained on a tight reach, onships in 1986, prior to the Amer- on course for Fremantle. Seas were 138
dy’s got a plan,” Sargent said. “Peter and I like it.” up just enough to make it rough “There’s the Fremantle Doctor,” going. Both Andy and Stu enjoyed Andy said, “a strong westerly that the challenge of what was probably comes up off Fremantle most afterthe most difficult point of sailing in noons. Land heats up, cold ocean anything over 15 knots. Hard on the wind blows onshore. The question wind, the helmsman could always is, how far offshore does that effeather up in the gusts to ease pres- fect start? Fifty miles, a hundred? sure on sails and rig. On a broader We’re around a hundred out, and reach, he had the option to head we haven’t felt it yet. But with Ram down in the puffs. Close reaching close, every second will count. We was more of a lock. Because course need to get the spinnaker on deck, changes were minimized, hands ready to hoist the minute we sense on the main sheet and traveler this shift.” were critical. The steering priority “You’re counting on this shift in those conditions was finding a coming from the right?” It was Dapath through an obstacle course of vis. building waves that “Yes, it should were approaching 45 Andy was suddenly come from the right.” degrees to the bow. taking charge “How so?” A little ease on trav- sticking his neck out “I’ve looked at eler and sheet in the the way a southerly right combination and at the right whips around the southwest corner moment made steering a team ef- of Australia,” Andy said. “There’s fort. A good helmsman anticipates. nothing in the meteorological hisOn a tight reach in 18-20 knots, tory to suggest that trend could be three people have to anticipate. If reversed when that’s the situation. the main and traveler trimmers Plus it’s gonna be a hot day in Frewere to wait for the helmsman’s mantle. The Doctor is just waiting to call, it would be too late. Plus, those make a house call.” Davis shrugged. two have to work together: traveler Andy listened to himself and was down first, then ease the main as surprised. The guy who had once necessary. It helped to have another tried moving heaven and earth not pair of eyes looking to weather, call- to go on this insane race was suding the puffs. Caskie Kolegeri was denly taking charge, sticking his very good at it. neck out? What the hell! But he was
Andy was back on deck in thirty into it. He suddenly felt strong. minutes. Sargent and navigator Pe- “Here’s what I think we should ter Dimaris came up with him. “An- do,” Andy said. “When we feel the 140
“Let’s get that red top reacher on deck,” Sargent said. “Make sure it’s wind starting to shift, we’ll come off in stops. Stu, you or Andy will be 10 to 15 degrees and set the chute. the first to feel the shift. Sing out. That will put us below course. We’ll want all hands on this one. That’s okay because the idea is to Roger, you and Joe walk it through. stay close to Ram.” I know you know. A hundred times.
“Think we can cross them?” Make it a hundred and one. Get Crouse asked. Zimmer and Crouse on deck when
“We’ve got about a half-mile you want them to handle sheet lead,” Dimaris said. “Should be and guy. Larry and Bosworth can enough with the spinnaker.” get the jib down. Caskie’s on the
“We don’t want to be sailing in handles.” different water and let luck decide An hour later, Andy was steerwho wins this leg,” Andy said. “We ing when he felt it. The breeze bealso want to get to leeward of them. gan coming to the right, clocking When the sou’westerly fills behind ever so slightly, as he’d predicted. us, we’ll come back to course and Ram was off to the left about four we’ll have a faster miles, keeping sailing angle to the The crew felt like an pace. All American finish. With 50-60 NFL offensive unit in was maintaining miles to go, that will the Red Zone its slight lead. One give us enough run- could have fired way. And we should put some dis- shotguns and the crew on the other tance on them before they can set.” boat wouldn’t have heard them,
“It sounds dicey,” Davis said. but Andy kept his voice down just
“Andy makes sense,” Sargent in case. “Here it comes,” Andy said said. “We may have a slight lead, but to Roger Davis, who was on the right now Ram has that leeward ad- main. Davis had already eased a vantage. When, and if,” he smiled, few inches. Stu had eased the jib. “the Doctor fills, I agree that advan- “Get everybody up.” tage will be critical. If the Doctor Ten minutes later, both sails had gets a flat tire, well, Andy can buy been eased even more. The wind the rum this time.” was on the beam. All hands were
“Done deal. Organize the chute on deck. Sargent nodded at Andy. for a port set,” Andy said. “When This was his party. the shift starts, we’ll have to go with Roger Davis and Joe Dugan set it. We’ll be low of course for a while, the pole, then hauled red top to the but we have to believe it will settle masthead. Davis returned to the in, come west, get behind us.” main, ready to ease. Dugan was on 144
All American Sargent was still in the cockpit, saying nothing, but his poker face the jib. Zimmer had the spinnaker was studied, fighting off doubt. sheet in hand with three wraps on Doubt was also beginning to cramp the big winch drum. Caskie was Andy’s enthusiasm. He was casting crouched over the grinder, feet still another anxious glance at Ram, spread, hands clutching the han- now half a mile to windward and dles. The crew felt like an NFL of- looking slightly ahead, just as Zimfensive unit in the red zone, poised, mer broke the silence with a simple set, ready for the snap. little statement that brought joy:
“Coming off,” Andy said quietly. “You can come up.” “Five degrees, ten. . .Break it!” Andy cast his hundredth glance
Davis eased the main sheet as at the wind instruments, then at Andy drove off. Caskie spun the the mast head fly, both showing handles. The spinnaker opened at the wind now trending slightly aft the foot, and the thirty stops ex- of the beam. He steered up five deploded nearly as one as the chute grees and the boat took it. It was filled with a loud pop. Andy put a fact, they were starting to feel the wheel down as the Doctor that was the chute heeled the Everything was on edge, clocking more, letboat 25 degrees. Du- right where a race boat ting them slowly but gan was at the mast likes it. surely come back up casting off the jib to course for Frehalyard. Down it came with Teddy mantle as Andy had figured. They Bosworth and Larry Kolegeri seat- were back up ten. Dimaris kept ed on the deck to corral the sail. putting the bearing compass on The boat’s acceleration was fierce. Ram. After ten minutes, he smiled. The chute was worth at least four “We’re faster,” Peter said. knots of speed. The pole had been They could see the action on perfectly set, low and way forward. Ram’s deck as that crew felt the “Stop!” Zimmer said to Caskie, and shift and hustled to set the spineased some sheet. naker. Soon, Ram’s big sail was
For thirty minutes Andy held up and pulling. But All Amerithe course that was now 10 to 15 can’s better angle to the finish was degrees below where they wanted worth almost a knot of boat speed. to go. They crossed Ram, which Not that it wasn’t on the hairy side. was holding a proper course for The speedo was in the 17-18-knot Fremantle, now reaching under a range. The lee rail was down, with big jib. Ram had been off their left the crew packed on the high side hip, now she was off their right hip. rail. Watches had been cancelled. 150
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All American A light snow was falling as Andy stood contemplating Sargent had pointed out they could Deedee’s grave at the private cemall sleep tomorrow. etery located on the outskirts of
The foot of the chute dipped oc- his family’s thousand-acre estate. casionally, and so did the main He’d come directly from the airboom that was being eased by Da- port after the 20-hour trek from vis in the puffs. But Stu remarked Western Australia. He was right how stable the helm felt when he to assume Mitch would have had took over. Everything was on edge, Deedee put in the ground as soon right where a race boat likes it. Two as possible. The dirt was freshly hours later, they had what looked disturbed around the grave site, like a half-mile lead on Ram Bunc- full of footprints being painted by tious. As the Doctor settled in the snow flurry. Probably no cerfrom the sou’west, they changed to emony. That would have been his a spinnaker cut for sailing deeper mother’s wish, and Mitch’s condownwind and held their lead to venience. He placed the bunch of the finish, winning by six minutes flowers he’d picked and change. Andy’s back hurt from the pounding it took from his ec"You win," Andy said to his mother. "You win, and so did I." up at the airport on the grave ~ there was no headstone yet ~ stood back static crew mates. and appreciated the “What was in that drug you gave view of Long Island Sound in the him?” Teddy Bosworth asked Du- distance, across big fields where gan. corn would grow in summer. He
Andy slipped below during the hadn’t been to the family cemetery cleanup on deck, suddenly ex- in many years and had forgotten hausted. He slumped into Peter’s what a peaceful spot it was. Deedee Recaro seat at the nav table and will like it here, he thought, and closed his eyes, opening a wide realized how ridiculous that screenshot of Deedee, hammering sounded, right out of a sentiment home that unreturnable backhand. by Hallmark. The celebration, the In the acrid, wet, below-decks ritual of death is all about the livmess of a round the world race ing who support the business for boat at the end of a brutal South- their own satisfaction. The dead ern Ocean leg, Andy Thomas put couldn’t care less. I like it here, he his head on the nav table and cried thought, and that’s what matters his heart out. because now I will think of this ex***
pansive, pastoral scene when I think of my mother, and that’s calming. For me. Andy had to smile at how Sargent would approve of his attitude, even as he wiped away a tear with his gloved hand.
Sargent. The race. That wild finish, sailing into the Doctor, going after Ram Bunctious, setting the spinnaker early, heading off to nail down the leeward position, that faster angle. . . . Altogether an insane bit, really, but it worked, damned if it hadn’t worked! The race. The bloody race. “You win,” Andy said quietly to his mother. “You win, and so did I.”
The approaching car caught Andy’s attention. Only family and good friends knew about the seldom-used dirt road into the cemetery. It was a Subaru hatchback, definitely not Mitch’s, thank heaven. Andy wasn’t at all interested in seeing Mitch. Maybe Ossie? The car stopped, and Becky Cotton got out. Her big dog jumped out and ran toward Andy. He was a Belgian Malinois, a good eighty pounds, like a German Shepherd, only more streamlined. The Malinois is powerful, fast and smart, a favorite of the military and the police. Andy had met him a few times when Sam had brought him to the office. Gus, he remembered. “Gus!” The dog reacted, skidded to a halt at his feet and sat down
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expectantly. Andy showed respect, reached out slowly, stroked his head.
“What about me?” Becky had her hands on her hips.
“Shall we just cut to the chase?” Andy asked.
“Yes, we should.” Becky’s signal to Gus was subtle.
Their hug was passionate, prolonged. They kissed, and it was wonderfully electric, just as Andy remembered it. Gus made a wistful sound in his throat. They laughed.
“There’s a lot to catch up on,” Becky said. “I’m so glad you’re here. . .I mean, I’m sorry you have to be here, of course. . . I couldn’t get to Punta, I just couldn’t. . .”
“It’s okay.”
“I know all about Mountain View, I’ve been helping Dad figure it out. I got my law degree, you know, before I decided to do photography full time.”
“I know Mitch is in charge,” Andy said, “but it’s okay, I’m not broke.” Andy pulled the bloodstained 100-peso bill from his pocket.
“There’s a lot you don’t know.”
“I know I’m cold.”
Becky laughed. “Me, too. Let’s go to Dad’s cabin. It’s only half an hour or so from here. Things aren’t as you imagine.”
Roger Vaughan has lived, worked, and sailed in Oxford since 1980.
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