He thought of her at eighteen, fat and pregnant in the trailer, trying to stay out of his way while he studied. “Bullshit! You’ve wrecked nothing. And I’m not going to lose you for a fucking boat.”

“When,” she asked softly, “did this cruise really begin?”

“When we spotted the boat,” he lied. He reached for her glass. “Another blast?”

She did not believe him, or maybe she did. Early next morning they winched up the anchor and powered out the pass. Lindy could recall every detail of their last mad passage through it, outward-bound. Mitch could barely remember breasting the breakers.

They began to beat back to Tahiti.

Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Three separate squalls were sweeping the search area from the east. He hung on the ratlines, studying their paths. He was so intent that, when an aircraft came up from astern, it caught him unaware. It roared past to starboard, filling his chest with the drumming of its engines. It wiggled its wings, banked sedately, and was back again, this time almost flicking the mast above him.

The plane was an old Lockheed P2V with French Navy markings, of the type that had patrolled the seas off Wonsan twenty years ago. It apparently had no radio channels he could receive, for it dropped a long red ribbon across his deck. When he climbed down and hauled it in, he found a waterproof bag at its end. He opened it and found a note. In schoolbook English he read that the plane’s wingman was already searching five miles astern. A destroyer, steaming at flank speed, was less than an hour southeast. A frigate followed with a helicopter. The destroyer had the proper frequencies, if he wished to speak, and could relay messages to the planes. In the meanwhile, they would simply begin a standard search. If they saw anything, they would drop flares and return to lead him to the spot. He had the honor to be, at your service, Lieutenant Guy Dubois.

When he finished reading, the plane was already distant, on his port bow, sweeping the water near the squalls. As he watched, it disappeared in scud, reappeared, and dropped lower.

It could have missed her as it passed through the cloud, and it would obviously not search that area again.

For the squalls and infinite valleys and gullies they needed five planes, or ten, they needed scores of ships. The sun was peaking and even if she was still afloat she would not last another night.

He called the destroyer for more help. A voice came back immediately, in perfect English. Mitch explained that his wife was a good swimmer, that she was wearing flotation, and had probably found a lifebuoy and flag he had left, that she might have a strobe light as well.

“And how long, Captain, has it been? She has fallen in, when?”