Salvage at Steeple Jason, Ed Zaruk [the gingerbread man read aloud TXT] 📗

aside Ben took the wheel, then slipped into the captain’s chair. Ben worked the throttles, sensing the invisible strain on the mainline, then eased off slightly, willing the cable to hold.
“Twelve metres,” the radio voice said. Neither Ross nor Ben responded. “Thirteen.” A pause. “Fourteen.”
Ross slapped his first mate on the back. “We did it.”
Ben let out a holler.
“Twenty metres, señors. We are in deep water again. My bearing is two, nine, one degrees.”
Ben steered starboard to line up both ships. Having lost all forward momentum in the turn, Southern Tide

fought the storm , barely holding the freighter from drifting backwards onto Jason West Cay. Two and a half hours into the long night, Ben finally eased the ship to safety, then they lengthened the towline and, as a morning sun illuminated clear skies in the west, settled on a heading for Buenos Aires.

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Text: © 2009 Ed Zaruk
Publication Date: 10-05-2009

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