"toc_marker-7" class="Chapter">APRIL 1
“I’ve been robbed!” Russell pushed the tiller over and shouted, “Helm’s a-lee!” even though Nutcase was sensibly down below already, out of the heavy winds that were buffeting the boat. He’d rigged for rough weather before leaving Port Townsend this morning, reefing down the main to about half its normal size and trading out the big jib for the working foresail.
For what must be the tenth time, he cruised along the sun-bright shore as near as he dared. There were rocks close in and the seas were vicious but he held his course. The Lady repeatedly dug her bow into the waves and threw great sheets of water skyward as she rose free. The sharp cliffs of Slip Point plunged down into the mad surf that threw itself against the rocks with the anger of a
