Antagonist back story

ANTAGONIST Back Story



The winds blew twenty knots from south/east and the swells from the north tripled in size making the ride bumpy, uncomfortable and wet.

We sat in the cockpit in attentive silence watching the ocean change from brilliant turquoise to a forlorn midnight-blue as the sky became dark and darker with the gathering of black clouds.

Forked lightening flashed soundlessly in the eastern horizon directly on our bow and behind us in the lowering sun the mysterious ketch was now an ominous silhouette which continued to press ever closer with a ruthless persistence.

Every sail we could fly was hoisted high and tight drawing all the power I knew how to muster from the wind which was now cold and moaning in the wires like a bawling calf.

Around midnight the winds picked up to thirty knots and the rain we’d been expecting came in a sudden downpour. I had given Pedro a slicker which was far too large for him. He had most of his face buried deep in the jacket folds and he kept his head down below the gun rails in a useless attempt to gain a modicum of shelter from the torrent which now came at us sideways.

We were traveling at twelve and a half knots with quick bursts of fifteen and more as I hand steered at the helm, my eyes stinging in the wind swept rain. Our speed at this point was too fast for the boat, and finally I knew we had to shorten sail though it was ulterior to my every hope of gaining distance from our unknown pursuer which for three days now had mimicked each and every tack we made. I decided it was either reef the sails and slow the boat or go too fast and risk pitch-poling into the crests of waves now seven feet high and blowing foam like powdered snow from their peaks.

The boy was now a pale green and I had little choice but command him at the top of my lungs to take the helm, which he finally did, while I literally crawled forward to the mast to lower the main, taking every once of strength I had left as the wind and the waves fought me at every turn.

“Get to the lee,” I told him when twenty minutes later I returned exhausted to take the wheel.

Pedro’s brown eyes were wide with fear and the wind took my words before they could reach his ears, but he got my meaning as I pointed and waved, and with great effort and holding onto whatever he could find to hold onto he made the four step journey to the starboard lee side where he immediately let forth with a tremendous wind carried heave over the side. He remained at the railing with his head on his arms as the boat rose and fell and rose and fell and immediately let loose again, this time with a good deal less to offer the fish.