Hawaiian Sea Hunt Mystery

CHAPTER XIII

A Near Miss

“Everything all clear?” Mr. Brewster called out from his position at the tiller in the yawl, Easy Action.

“Aye, aye, sir,” Biff called back to his father. Biff held on to the bow line, loosely circled over a piling at the dock.

“Cast off, then,” Tom Brewster ordered.

Biff flicked the rope, snaking it over the piling, as the Easy Action was cleared. Biff heard the low growl of the reverse gear as his father backed easily away from the wharf. A shift to forward, the engine revved up higher, and the yawl headed out of the harbor at Hana.

It was a clear night, bright stars lighting up the skies over the Hawaiian Islands. A slight sliver of a new moon could just be seen rising in the east.

The yawl ran on its auxiliary engine for fifteen minutes, putting the harbor behind it. When they were well clear, and in open sea, Mr. Brewster cut the engine.

“All hands to,” he called. “Prepare to hoist sail.”

A yawl is a fore-and-aft rigged vessel. It has a large mainmast forward, and a much smaller mast set abaft or behind the tiller, or wheel.

Hank Mahenili and his son Li had hold of the halyards at the mainmast, ready to pull on the lines to raise the main and jib sails.

Biff would handle the mizzen or aft sail by himself.

“Heave away, me hearties,” Mr. Brewster ordered.

The three “hearties” heaved, and the sails slid up their masts, and billowed gently out, catching a soft, warm wind. The sails were set and trimmed.

“Okay, Biff, you take over now.”

Biff came into the cockpit and took the tiller over from his father.

“Keep her headed as she is now. The compass setting is for Upolu Point. We ought to make it easily by daybreak, and then we’ll cruise the western coast of the Big Island.”

“Heading for Ka Lae, Dad?” Biff asked.

“That’s right, Biff. Hank and I are going to turn in now. You and Li handle the ten-to-two watch. Wake us up at two, then you boys can grab some sleep.”

Li joined Biff in the cockpit.

The Easy Action lived up to her name. She slid effortlessly through the water, noiseless except for the soft swish of her bow cleaving a path. The wind held steady. There was nothing to do but hold her on course.

“Like sailing, Li?” Biff asked.

“It’s the greatest. I’ll take sail over power any day.” Li spoke as if he were an old salt.

“Not so good for water skiing, though,” Biff said. “You need more speed for that, quick speed, fast starts.”

“Oh, sure. But for a cruise like we’re taking, give me sail.”

The boys were quiet. The spell of the night settled over them. Li, Biff knew, dozed off from time to time. He himself felt drowsy, lulled into sleepiness by the slight rise and fall of the craft as it rode over the swells.

Biff looked at the luminous dial of his watch. It was nearly twelve o’clock. He nudged the sleeping Li.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be on this watch with me. How ’bout taking over for a while?”

Li rubbed his eyes, stretched, and yawned.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” He took the tiller.

Biff stood up, stretched his body, then settled into a more comfortable position. He fought off sleep, but knew he dozed now and again in short, five-minute catnaps. He was never far from consciousness, though. And if anything happened – say a quickening of the wind – he would have been alert immediately.

At two o’clock, a widely yawning Tom Brewster emerged from the cabin, followed by Hank Mahenili.

“All right, boys. We’ll take over now. Get some sleep. At this steady pace, we’ll reach Upolu long before daylight. We’ll drop anchor, then set out again at daybreak.”

Upolu is the northernmost point on the Island of Hawaii.

Biff and Li were asleep the moment they hit their berths. It seemed to Biff he had only just gone to sleep when he felt his father shaking his shoulder.

“Rise and shine, Biff. Almost daylight. We’re shoving off as soon as we have some grub.”

Under a bright morning sun, the Easy Action got under way again. Biff was at the tiller. His father and Hank Mahenili, tired from their early morning watch, dozed on the foredeck in comfortable captain’s chairs.

Biff and Li had their work cut out for them. The course set was a zigzag one. They wanted to cruise as much of the coastline as possible in the hope of spotting some sign of Huntington’s sunken sloop.

Biff would head the Easy Action off shore, run out nearly ten miles, then tack back in. For every three miles they progressed down the coast toward Ka Lae, the southern tip of Hawaii, they covered nearly twenty miles out and back from the coast.

A stiff morning breeze sent the Easy Action skipping briskly over the waves. They had covered a good distance by eight bells, twelve o’clock noon.

Biff and Li took turns at the tiller. When Li was the steerer, Biff stood on the highest point of the foredeck, near the ship’s bow, scanning the waters on either side with powerful binoculars. When it was his time to take over the wheel, Li took up the vigil.

They reached Kailua on the Kona coast as the sun, like a blazing ball, settled into the Pacific Ocean to the west. They were halfway to Ka Lae, the southern cape.

The party went ashore for a steak dinner at the famous Kona Steak House, then came back to their boat filled with food and tired. All turned in at once. No watch was set. None of them saw the black-hulled power cruiser come in and drop its anchor nearby. Then the captain of the cruiser, having spotted the Easy Action, weighed anchor and moved off to an anchorage out of sight from the crew of the yawl.

The next morning the search was continued, the yawl weaving its way in and out along the coast, drawing nearer to Ka Lae, nearer to the position at which Huntington had last been heard from.

“I’ll take the tiller now, Biff,’” his father said. “Hank and I will alternate. I want you and Li to keep a constant watch. Your young eyes are sharper than ours.”

The Easy Action spent the day crisscrossing a wide area of water between the shore line and a distance outside the coral shoals, varying from five to twelve miles.

Nightfall found them off Ka Lae, or South Cape. They anchored in thirty feet of clear water, about a quarter of a mile off shore. They could see the white combers lashing at the rocky formation of the beach.

“We’ll combine our evening meal with a council of war,” Tom Brewster said, once the ship was made tight for the night.

“You figure we’re in the danger area now, Dad?” Biff asked.

“Huntington’s sloop is on the bottom of the ocean somewhere in this area.”

“And Perez Soto is looking for it just as hard as we are,” Hank Mahenili added.

“What about Dr. Weber?” Biff asked. “Do you think he’s aboard Perez Soto’s boat, or do you think he’s being held on shore?”

“Hard to say, Biff. My feeling is that he’s being held on shore. A captive on a boat could be too easily spotted at a refueling wharf.”

“Don’t you think, Dad, that we ought to divide up now?” Biff suggested. “Two of us make a shore search for Dr. Weber, the other two cruise around and try to spot the sunken sloop?”

“Good idea, Biff. We’ll do that tomorrow,” Mr. Brewster agreed. “Hank and I will go ashore. You and Li conduct the sea search.”

That suited Biff and Li just fine. They looked at one another and smiled.

“Now tonight, I don’t think it’s necessary to have a standing watch. There’s been no sign of Perez Soto so far. But one of us ought to sleep on deck. Any volunteers?” Biff’s father asked.

“Me, Dad.” Biff jumped at the chance. “I’d love to. Nice warm night. The sleeping will be better under the stars than it will be in the cabin.”

“Okay, let’s all turn in. Big day ahead.”

Biff spread out a sleeping bag on the Easy Action’s foredeck. He lay on his back, his eyes staring up and the millions of stars twinkling in the sky overhead. The sound of the surf came distinctly. It was a soothing sound, and shortly Biff was lulled to sleep.

Some hours later, he was awakened slowly. He heard the distant throb of a powerful engine. At first, Biff thought it must be an airplane. But then, as he became wider awake, he realized the throbbing came not from the air, but the sea. It grew louder as the craft, whatever it was, drew nearer.

Biff sat up, propping himself on one arm. Now there was no mistaking it. A boat, one with a powerful engine, was rapidly approaching the Easy Action’s anchorage. Biff stood up. He peered into the starlight night. He could see the reflection of stars twinkling on the water’s surface. Then he made out the outlines of a cabin cruiser throwing a fan-tail white wake, heading fast toward the Easy Action.

“Fools,” Biff muttered to himself, “if they don’t change course, they’ll ram us.”

He knew the white-hulled yawl was sharply outlined against the starlit waters. Then he suddenly knew what was happening. The on-charging cruiser was aiming at the yawl. It meant to ram her.

Biff raised a cry. It was too late. His voice was drowned out by the roar of the cruiser’s engines – Biff knew now that it was a twin-engined craft.

Now the boat seemed on top of the yawl. Its bow, with a much higher freeboard than the low-lying yawl, reared up menacingly only twenty feet from the sailing craft. Surely it would crash them, ram them, send them to the bottom of the sea, with Biff’s father, Hank Mahenili, and Li trapped below.

Biff yelled.

At the last moment, the cruiser swerved sharply to the starboard, making an almost right-angle turn. It roared alongside the Easy Action, not ten feet separating the two boats.

As the cruiser made its fast, skidding turn, it threw up a tremendous wave. Biff saw the wave sweeping toward the yawl. Then, tons of foaming water cascaded over the Easy Action. Biff grabbed for the mainmast, wrapping his arms around it in a death lock. He felt the wave tugging at his body. It took all his strength to prevent being swept overboard.

The wave passed on over, tumbling gallons of water into the cabins below.

Biff released his grip on the mainmast. He sprinted to the cockpit. It was nearly filled with water.

“Dad! Dad! You all right?”

He started to plunge into the water-filled cabin and was met by his father, Hank, and Li fighting their way out, gasping for breath, trying to expel water from their choked lungs.

The black cruiser had sped away, the throb of its engines barely audible now.

Everyone was all right. But what a mess! Bedding was soaked. Galley equipment, pots, pans, dishes had been swept off shelves, some of the pans bobbing like corks in the swirling waters inside the ship’s cabin.

Biff went into action. Maybe he could start the engine before the water did its damage. He splashed through the water and reached the engine compartment. He pulled open the door. It had held back the flood from the engine room. Before the water could rush in and fill up that compartment, Biff had the engine going. He quickly turned on the yawl’s sea pumps. He stood there with his fingers crossed, hoping the engine wouldn’t conk out. It didn’t. The heavy-duty pumps worked perfectly. Already the water inside the boat was beginning to recede.

Biff joined his father, Hank Mahenili, and Li in the cockpit. They were still dazed and only now beginning to breathe easily.

“I thought he was going to ram us, Dad.”

Mr. Brewster shook his head.

“I get it now,” Biff continued. “To ram us would have damaged his boat – put it out of commission, even if it didn’t sink. He wanted to swamp us.”

“And nearly did!” Mr. Mahenili said.

The steady beat of the pumps continued. They were rapidly bailing the yawl out.

“Well, Biff, you know what we’re really up against now,” his father said seriously.

“I think I always did, Dad. This Perez Soto will stop at nothing.”

Li sat quietly, but he was shaking as if from a chill. It was the recent frightening experience which caused him to tremble.

“Tom, I’ve been in and around water, in and out of boats all my life. But that was the nearest brush I’ve ever had with a watery grave.” Hank Mahenili’s voice was solemn. “He’ll never get away with it,” he added fiercely.

The next hour was spent in straightening up the water damage. Bedding was brought on deck and spread to dry. Li was elected cook, to make coffee and hot tea. Dawn was spreading before the Easy Action was shipshape again.

After a hot meal, Mr. Brewster took Biff aside.

“Biff, we’re not going to let last night’s incident change our plans. Hank and I are going ashore immediately. You and Li put out and start the search at once. We’ve got to stop Perez Soto before he stops us. Come below with me for a moment.”

Biff followed his father into the cabin. He saw him open his bag. When he turned around, he was holding a revolver in his hand.

“You know how to use this, Biff. You’ve practiced enough.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“You’re not to use it, except in the most extreme emergency. You’re to use it only to repel anyone trying to board this boat.”

Biff nodded his head gravely. Mr. Brewster replaced the weapon and left the cabin to join Hank Mahenili. Biff and Li watched their fathers as they headed for shore in the yawl’s dinghy.

CHAPTER XIV

Storm!

The boys watched the dinghy plunge into the surf near the shore. They saw it picked up by a breaking roller, and carried on its crest to the shore. They saw the two men pull the dinghy high up on the shore and hide it behind some low, spreading growth.

“They’re taking no chances,” Biff said to Li. “We’ve got to be equally careful.”

Biff’s voice held a grim tone. The memory of the night before was still vivid in his mind. Li’s face was solemn, too, his round brown eyes serious.

“You’re the captain, Biff.”

Biff smiled. He didn’t want Li to become too alarmed.

“Okay, my friend. Let’s put out to sea. I can handle the mainsail and the jib. You stand by the tiller. We’ll hoist the mizzen after we’re heading out.”

Biff ran the mainsail up, leaped to the bow of the boat, and started hauling in the anchor on a hand winch. It took a lot of effort. The anchor was heavy, and he had to raise it thirty feet. The Easy Action, a spanking off-shore breeze in its sail, was already plowing through the sea before Biff had the anchor safely stowed.

Once the anchor was stowed, Biff went back to the cockpit.

“How’m I doing, Biff? Heading the right way?” Li asked.

“Point her a little more to the southwest. I’ll raise the mizzen.”

Biff finished his seaman’s job and dropped down in the cockpit beside Li for a breather.

“I’ll take over now, Li. You go forward and be the lookout. Take the binoculars,” he suggested.

All morning they continued their crisscrossing course. The high noon sun blazed down on them. The heat soon dried the bedding. Biff heaved to long enough to carry the bedding below and make up the berths.

They had a sandwich, then stretched out on the hot deck for a brief rest. The boat drifted.

“Where do you think we are now, Li?” Biff asked.

Li looked shoreward. They could just make out the coastline.

“I think we’ve rounded Ka Lae. Must be just off the black sand beach.”

“Black sand?”

“Yes, Biff. The lava from Kilauea spilled down to the ocean. The surf ground it up into a fine black powder, really finer than sand. That’s why it’s called the black sand beach. It’s all along the Puna coast, all the way up to Hilo – that’s a city on the west side of the Big Island.”

“I think we ought to change course, then. Head a point or two north by northeast. Then we’ll wing back east and return to the anchorage.”

Li was at the tiller. He came about, and the Easy Action was put on a long reach, pushed briskly along by a southerly wind.

Toward the middle of the afternoon, Biff looked up to see Li coming aft. Biff was at the tiller. He noticed a frown on his Hawaiian friend’s face.

“What’s up, Li? You sight something?”

“No, Biff,” Li shook his head. The serious expression on his face had deepened to one of worry.

“Then what’s your trouble? You look like you got trouble.” Biff smiled.

“I’m afraid we both may have,” Li answered. “Have you noticed it getting any warmer?”

“A little, perhaps. Wind’s freshened a bit, too.”

“That’s it. I’m afraid we’re in for some Kona weather.”

“Kona weather?”

“Yes, that’s what we call a wind coming up from the Equator. Sometimes it reaches gale force. Always there’s heavy rain.”

Biff looked astern. On the southern horizon, he could make out huge thunderheads.

“Was there a Kona wind when Huntington was lost?”

“Yes. A big one.”

“Then we’d better get out of here fast. We’ll try to get back round Ka Lae. The Point ought to give us some protection.”

There was no doubt now that a Kona wind was catching them. Biff changed course again. He headed Easy Action’s bow west by north. The wind rose rapidly. It whistled through the sails, making the rigging lines vibrate. The sea began kicking up.

The wind drove Easy Action before it. The yawl heeled far over, its mainsail stretched taut on the starboard side. The yawl was fairly racing through the water.

Suddenly they were struck by a torrential downpour. The rain hit the deck in drops as big as half-dollars. The sky had blackened. The shore was blanked out. Angry whitecaps dotted the water like blobs of cotton.

“Take the tiller, Li,” Biff shouted above the roar of the wind and the pounding of the rain. “I’ve got to get the mainsail down.”

Biff fought his way forward on the rain-slippery deck. He was pushed along by the driving wind. He reached the mainmast. Its lines were whipping against it, cracking like pistol shots. He loosened the mainsail halyard. The wind grabbed the mainsail. Biff struggled to pull it down. Suddenly there was a thunderous crack. The mainsail gave way, torn loose from its halyards. It stretched straight out like a flat, white canopy and flapped violently in the wind, which was now near gale force.

There was no way to cut it loose. Biff let the line go. The jibsail was still holding. Turning, Biff felt the rain and salt spray beat against his face. He had to bend into a crouch to make any progress aft. The salt spray stung his eyes, nearly blinding him.

Once he slipped and crashed to the deck. He could feel himself sliding toward the starboard gunnel, now nearly under water because the yawl had heeled over so far. A last-second grab at a mooring stanchion saved him from going overboard into the boiling sea.

Biff pulled himself up slowly. He crawled on hands and knees and fell exhausted into the cockpit. For moments he lay there, gasping for breath. Then he saw the fear on Li’s face. Li held the tiller in a viselike grip. Biff rose.

“I’ll take over,” he shouted.

Li merely nodded his head in assent, glad to relinquish the wooden tiller handle. It was a fight to hold it steady.

From forward, the boys heard another crack, sharp as a shotgun shot.

“Jibsail’s given away,” Biff shouted.

Now their only control of the yawl was by the mizzensail. It was behind them, making control of the boat most difficult.

“If the mizzen goes,” Biff yelled, “we’re done for!”

Just as he spoke the words, the mizzen gave way, torn from its halyard by a sudden driving gust. At the same moment, the boys heard a sound that sent an even greater chill of fear racing up and down their spines. It was the roar of an angry surf pounding the shore.

They were being swept ashore. The boat would be dashed to bits. They would be flung on razor-sharp coral!

“Get forward, Li,” Biff shouted. “Let the anchor go!”

The sound of the pounding surf came nearer. Biff prayed that the anchor would grab and hold. He fought the tiller, trying to keep the yawl from being swept ashore broadside. Then, suddenly, the yawl was lifted high on the crest of a roller, as if handled by a giant. When it crashed down into a churning trough of water, Biff’s grasp on the tiller was torn loose. He felt himself being hurled through the air. Then he struck the water with a thud, knocking the wind from his lungs.

Biff felt himself go under. Then he was lifted by another roller. Surfacing, he gasped for air. His arms flailed the water. The waves tossed him about, carrying him nearer and nearer the shore. Biff struggled to ride the waves, to keep control of his body so that he might avoid being dashed on the shore. He was hoping against hope that this would be a sand, not coral beach.

After a seemingly endless struggle, Biff, kicking out, felt his feet touch bottom. Nothing had ever felt so good before. His feet were touching a powdery sand, now roiled up, but at least, it wasn’t a coral bottom.

Biff found himself in waist-deep water. The shoreline was only a few feet in front of him. He staggered through the surf, reached the black sand beach, and threw himself face down on the sand. Every muscle in his body felt as if it had been pounded, pummeled, pulled, and strained.

Then he thought of Li. He turned over and rose to his knees. He saw the Easy Action. Her anchor had caught and held. She was pounding up and down on the rough waters, but Biff could see that she was holding.

But where was Li?

Biff stood up. He went to the water’s edge. He walked out until the water raced around his knees. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted:

“Li! Li!”

There was no answer.

CHAPTER XV

Men Missing

Biff stood on the beach calling out his friend’s name again and again. His voice shook with effort, trying to drown out the noises of surf and sea.

The wind was dying down slightly, but the surf was still too rough and dangerous for Biff to try to reach the boat, which stood one hundred feet off shore.

Biff’s eyes searched the beach, hoping to spot Li swimming ashore. No such welcome sight met his eyes.

To his left, about a quarter of a mile away, Biff could see a formation of lava rock jutting out into the sea. He thought his friend Li might have gotten to shore on the other side of the lava promontory.

Biff ran down the beach. His pounding heart sank when he reached the ugly, grayish-black rock, stretching out into the sea. Its side was smooth, rising upward some thirty feet. There was no place Biff could spot where he could gain a foothold to climb to its top.

Around the base of the lava cliff, the water dashed and swirled, making it impossible for Biff to swim around to the other side.