Chapter Eighteen

We maneuvered the two boats toward Shark Tooth Rock. A jagged piece of gray granite reared out of the water, looking very much like a giant shark had left a tooth pointing to the sky. I had the jib up, the wind crackling through the sail as we coaxed our boat to a strong starting speed. Robbie and Grant exchanged nods as they both crossed the imaginary starting line emanating from the rock. I grinned. The race was on.

The buoy was upwind, so we began a series of tacks. The Gauntlet and Avery's Hope crisscrossed paths as we each zigzagged at 45 degree angles to the wind, allowing us to sail "against" the wind. Each turn required us to change the sheet positions, controlling the sails in unison. If we didn't do them properly, or in sync, we would fall behind.

The sails crackled like strange clouds, and water sprayed up into the air, shimmering like diamonds as it landed on the boat. My feet thudded against the deck as I hurried to and fro, adjusting sheets and following Robbie's comma