There were meatballs, spaghetti, half a case of sardines, two cases of sausages, twelve cans of ravioli, boned chicken, 100 cans of vegetables, a dozen boxes of breakfast cereal, twenty-four cans of applesauce, six pounds of Bisquick, six pounds of white rice, three of brown. There were ten pounds of sugar and another ten of cheeses and forty-five rolls of toilet paper so that they could delay the purchase of razor-sharp French tissue as long as possible. He had even discovered, in the bilges, two cans of grated coconut.

“Lindy, we’re going to Coconutsville!”

“They were on special. I might want to bake a cake.”

Shawn, who had brought Invincible across the Bay with Bobby, was wandering through the crowd like a discontented troll. He saw Mitch studying the boat and moved over, shaking his head.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “You ever hear of metacentric height?”

Mitch tried to project confidence: “Don’t worry, Herreschof. You couldn’t knock her down with a China Sea typhoon.”

They said goodbye to Bernie. Lindy hugged her father and Bobby and kissed Tony and Nancy, who had a mutual cold. There were tears in her eyes. Justice Holmes, stupidly brought to see them off, began to bark hysterically. They stepped aboard and cast off. There were too many hands on the dock per line, and too much beer in the hands, and Red-Dog fell in.

Invincible escorted them through the Golden Gate, then turned and departed, hooting madly. The moment she met the ocean swell, Linda Lee began to wallow horribly, as predicted. Seasickness hovered.

There was a brief, explosive conference between captain and medical officer. Brow furrowed, lips pursed, Lindy tried to recall her shopping. Finally she confessed the awful truth. He was incredulous and flipped through the cards in the first-aid section of their magnificent filing system.

In the medicine cabinet, it promised, he would find dexedrine to wake them up, seconal to make them sleep, milk of magnesia to start their bowels and lomotil to stop them, parafon forte to unclench his back and miltown to unclench their brains, enough needles, drugs, and syringes to interest the Bureau of Narcotics, and enough hemostats and scalpels to stock a field hospital.

For an appendicitis attack she had tetracycline and penicillin. She had pyribenzamine for postnasal drip. To put them to sleep if they had to set a bone she had ether. She had bandages, compresses, eyepads, gauze, sterile cotton, splints, and slings.

She had forgotten the Dramamine.

With the realization of it, she got sick instantly. He held onto her belt while she hung over the gunwale and vomited. Then he became sick too.

At sunset, thirty miles south and near the limit of their radiotelephone, they remembered that Justice Holmes’ rabies shots were due next week. He put through a call to Bobby via the marine operator.

“Mitch?” crackled Bobby’s voice. “I’ve been trying to raise you! I got bad news. Over.”