Wave Riders Read online

  For Lucia, who, like me,

  loved oceans and dolphins.

  I’m honoured and humbled that

  our paths crossed on the page.

  ‘I am not afraid of storms for

  I am learning to sail my ship’

      Louisa May Alcott

  ‘We have salt in our blood, in our sweat, in our tears.

  We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back

  to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch it,

  we are going back from whence we came’

            John F. Kennedy

  CONTENTS

  Alone

  1. A Mysterious Encounter

  2. Even Good People Have Secrets

  3. The Promise

  4. The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

  5. Dolphin Dreams

  6. Lottery

  7. Horseshoe Reef

  8. Sea Squall

  9. Double Helix

  10. Blues and Royals

  11. The Luckiest Children in the World

  12. Trick of the Light

  13. Star Guests

  14. The Godfather

  15. Horse Boy

  16. Trust No One

  17. Tempest

  18. Spy in the Sky

  19. Sirius

  20. Dragon Ridge

  21. Divide and Conquer

  22. Swimming Trials

  23. No Secret

  24. Lone Wolf

  25. Sacred Ground

  26. Tombstone

  27. Storm Tactics

  28. Spies and Lies

  29. Water Rats

  30. Firebird

  31. Homecoming

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  A Letter to the Reader

  ALONE

  It all began with a rogue wave.

  Later, Jess would think: What if the sea had been wilder that night? What if the wave that broke ranks and ambushed their yacht had been one of those monsters sailors dread, with a glittering crest as high as a house and enough breaking pressure to crush a cruise ship or dash a helicopter from the sky?

  What then? Would she have lived to tell the tale?

  The freak wave that slammed into You Gotta Friend at five minutes to midnight on the third Saturday in November wasn’t a super-sized killer, but its impact was enough to hurl Jess against her cabin wall, bashing her cheek and splitting her lip.

  Blood and wood varnish met on the tip of her tongue. Fear kickstarted her heart.

  She snapped upright in her sleeping bag and flicked on a torch. Her books – just seven dog-eared copies, each more precious than gold – were wedged safely in their nook, but the small oil painting that was the sole reminder of her mother had wrenched free of its nail and fallen on to her bunk. Jess laid it carefully beside her pillow. She’d hang it up again when the crisis had passed.

  Rubbing her cheek, she waited for Captain Gabriel Carter’s familiar shout: ‘Life jackets, kids, and don’t forget your safety harnesses. Jude, if I catch you on deck without yours, you’ll be in trouble.’

  When they’d first set sail from Bantry Creek, Florida 154 long days ago, her twin brother had pretty much believed that their guardian could walk on water. Now, increasingly, Jude and Gabe butted heads.

  But to Jess’s surprise, there was no call to action from the skipper. No rustle of waterproofs or stamp of boots on the companionway steps that led to the deck. Only the whining of the wind, the clanking of the halyard and the slap-slap of waves against the hull. Through the salt-splattered hatch, the sky was panther-black.

  Were it not for her throbbing cheek and stinging lip, Jess would have wondered if she’d dreamed the wave. Whatever it was couldn’t have been serious or Gabe would have yelled for them, and Sam, their Swiss Shepherd dog, would be barking madly.

  Jess decided that no news was good news.

  That was her first mistake.

  Her second was switching off her torch and hunkering back down into the silky cocoon of her sleeping bag.

  Next thing she knew it was 8.59 a.m. That was unheard of. Her brother was the noisiest boy alive. He was also an early riser. Dawn was his favourite time of day, and she and Gabe had no choice but to ‘enjoy’ it with him.

  ‘It’s like living with an elephant,’ Jess had complained after being rudely awakened for the zillionth time by crashing pans, whistling and stomping, and exuberant bursts of song.

  ‘Thanks for the compliment, sis,’ Jude shot back with a grin. ‘Elephants are famously quiet. They tread so lightly on the savannah, they barely leave a trace. I’m touched that you think I’m as sure-footed and silent as they are.’

  That was Jude: irrepressible. Life was one long joke to him. Gabe was constantly telling him that his best quality was also his worst. It was impossible to get him to take anything seriously.

  Jess padded into the galley in her pyjamas. It was as immaculate as she’d left it the evening before. That was odd too. By this time, there’d usually be at least two mugs in the sink, plus a smear of jam, a spill of milk and a trail of crumbs on the teak dining table.

  Sleepily, Jess moved to the fridge to look for juice, almost treading on an upturned chocolate cake and twelve scattered candles. A plate had shattered too. It was only then that she remembered it was their birthday that day, hers and Jude’s. They’d planned to celebrate. Now their cake was ruined.

  Jude’s cabin door was propped open, his neatly-made bunk on display. Gabe’s cabin was empty too. Usually spotless, it now resembled a scene from Titanic. A locker had burst open. Sailing gear and the contents of the first-aid kit were strewn everywhere. Bandages and Band-Aids sagged in a spill of soda from an overturned can.

  But what really made Jess’s scalp prickle with unease was that their dog, Sam, didn’t come racing down the steps to greet her, the way he had every morning for the past five months. He always yelped with joy and spun in circles as if he hadn’t seen her in forever.

  ‘Gabe?’ she yelled. ‘Jude? SAM?’

  No answer.

  Something was wrong.

  Out of habit, she pulled a life jacket over her pyjamas before climbing the companionway steps to the deck. Her brother was fast asleep in the cockpit, his tanned face squashed up against a blue-striped cushion, wheat-coloured curls falling over his eyes.

  Jess’s relief was short-lived. Her brother didn’t stir and neither did Sam. The dog was sprawled on his side on the wet deck, unconscious, his creamy-white coat lifting in the wind.

  Jess felt a bolt of pure fear. Sam was the best guard dog ever to take to the seas. The chances of him dozing through so much as a tiptoeing mouse were zero.

  There was no sign of Gabe, and not a lot of places he could be. They were on a yacht, surrounded by open ocean. The lifeboat was stowed securely in its compartment. Gabe’s safety line hung from its usual hook.

  Jess leaned over the side, hoping that Gabe had merely gone for a swim. That’s when she saw it. The anchor warp that she’d helped Gabe put down when they’d moored near Devil’s Bay the previous night, had snapped. The yacht was adrift.

  What was going on? Had she slept through some emergency? Had the rogue breaker that flung her against the cabin wall caused Jude and Sam to slip and bang their heads? Had Gabe gone for help?

  But, no – the dinghy was still tied up at the stern, bouncing on the waves.

  Fighting off panic, Jess shook her twin’s shoulder. ‘Jude, wake up! Jude, come on, this is not funny. JUDE!’

  His hazel eyes opened a slit before closing again. ‘Woz up? Tired. Lemme sleep.’

  She shook him harder. ‘Jude, I need you. You have to wake up. Where’s Gabe? What happened?’ When her
brother didn’t stir, she turned on the hose and squirted him with a jet of cold water.

  He sat up in a hurry then. ‘W-w-what was that for? Ow, my head hurts. Why’s Sam flopped out like that? Is he ill? Where’s the skipper?’

  ‘That’s what I’m trying to find out.’

  ‘What do you mean? If he’s not on deck, he must be down below.’

  ‘No, Jude, he’s not. He’s nowhere.’

  A terrible coldness was creeping into Jess’s bones. After checking on Sam, who was whimpering drowsily, she hurried to the bow.

  To starboard, and a long way off, were the volcanic outlines of a couple of islands. Elsewhere, there was nothing but empty ocean, without another boat or seagull in sight. The expanse of blue made Jess feel claustrophobic, as if the water was closing in on her, making it hard to breathe.

  Jude was doing a frantic search of the cabins. When he reappeared, his face was as pale as the sail. The twins clung to the mast together, staring into the sapphire deep, willing it to give up its secrets.

  They didn’t speak. There were no words. They were over a thousand nautical miles from Bantry Creek, the only home they’d ever known. Without Gabriel, they had nothing and no one in the world.

  They were alone.

  1

  A MYSTERIOUS ENCOUNTER

  One Day Earlier . . .

  Picture yourself on a tropical island, on a beach so white it shimmers. The sand is as silky as baby powder between your toes. Doves coo and terns turn lazily in a crystalline sky. Scarlet-and-purple-winged parrots flit among the palms. The water is the colour of aquamarine gemstones, deepening to jade around undersea caves and indigo in places where the seabed shelves sharply. Turtles and angel fish glide through pink coral reefs.

  Naturally, there are dolphins.

  Your home is a sleek thirty-seven-foot Rustler yacht, and you can sail it anywhere, any time you choose. The Bahamas or Baja, California this week; Turkey or the Turks and Caicos next month. The Cape of Good Hope! Australia, even! Forget school. As for homework, that’s a thing of the past. You can spend all day, every day, paddling in lagoons, barbecuing lobsters or snoozing on a sunlounger.

  Now imagine that you’ll be doing this for the rest of your life. For ever and ever. Sound blissful? Remember that, even in paradise, the weather’s unpredictable. Sea squalls and hurricanes can whip up out of nowhere with terrifying speed. What if you capsize? What if there are sharks? What if you’re seasick? What if there are pirates?

  And don’t forget that, below deck, the saloon’s barely big enough to swing a ship’s cat. Every irritating habit, frustration, fear or flare of temper is magnified. Being with your crewmates twenty-four seven is a true test of love, especially when one of those crewmates is your ultra-aggravating twin brother. Not everyone survives it.

  ‘You’re the most hateful boy who ever existed,’ spluttered Jess, spitting up seawater, after falling head first and fully clothed into the marina, thanks to Jude. ‘When I get out of here, you’re dead.’

  As she swam strongly back to the pontoon, where her brother was doubled over with laughter, it crossed her mind that one person’s idea of heaven was another’s hell.

  Take Jude. If it were up to him, they’d only ever put into harbour a couple of times a year. He lived and breathed sailing and the sea. When he was ashore, he rarely left the marina, preferring to hang out with Gabe and the other yachties chatting about bilge pumps, knots and rigging.

  Jess, on the other hand, counted the days, hours and minutes until they reached their next port and the furniture stopped moving.

  Today’s Caribbean paradise was particularly welcome, and not just because they’d spent most of the past three weeks at sea, or meandering from one uninhabited island to the next. Gabe had promised her two whole days in one place. Jess couldn’t wait to enjoy a shower that wasn’t a cold trickle and eat a meal that didn’t start life in a tin.

  But the main reason she’d cheered when Gabe guided You Gotta Friend into a berth at Nanny Cay Marina was because the British Virgin Island of Tortola had a bookshop. By a happy coincidence, the latest in Jess’s favourite mystery series was being published that very day. As they docked, Gabe had handed Jess her birthday money and told her to treat herself to FIVE books.

  Jess had been so excited that she’d helped secure the yacht in record time. Convinced that every young reader within fifty nautical miles would be on a mission to snap up Castle of Secrets by Ellie Ellis, she’d set off at a sprint for the bookshop. She didn’t notice the hose that Jude had abandoned while mooning over a Leopard superyacht until it sent her belly-flopping into the marina. Sam, thinking it was a game, had jumped in too.

  ‘I didn’t leave it there on purpose,’ protested Jude, putting his hands up to ward off blows as his dripping sister chased after him and the dog barked wildly from a safe distance. ‘Anyhow, you shouldn’t be so clumsy.’

  ‘And you shouldn’t be so careless and messy,’ accused Jess.

  ‘Not again,’ chided Gabe from the deck of the yacht. ‘Beats me why y’all gotta bash heads over every doggone thing. You’re twins. You’re supposed to be best buddies.’

  ‘Urgh,’ said Jude, pulling a face at his sister.

  Jess rolled her eyes. ‘Freak.’

  ‘Geek!’

  Luckily, Gabe didn’t hear them over the barking. ‘Sam, that’s enough! Quiet! Jess, it’ll take you five minutes, max, to dry off in this heat. Go get your mystery books. Jude, you’re about to be twelve. It’s time you took some responsibility for your actions and quit goofing around.’

  ‘It wasn’t his fault,’ said Jess, leaping loyally to her brother’s defence. ‘I should have been looking where I was going.’

  ‘Thanks, sis, but I can fight my own battles,’ muttered Jude, a scowl clouding his good-natured face. ‘Sorry for laughing, though.’ In a louder voice, he said: ‘Yes, sir, Captain.’

  ‘And what do you say?’

  ‘Apologies, Captain.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Apologies, Jess.’

  Gabe jumped on to the pontoon. He ruffled Jude’s hair affectionately. ‘That’s more like it. Once we’ve refuelled, let’s hit the chandlery and get those sailing gloves you wanted for your birthday. Now, kids, a little bird told me there’s a beach barbecue to die for on Tortola. If you promise not to squabble, I’ll treat you both to a slap-up lunch.’

  Desert Island Books had a hot-pink storefront and a sign shaped like a palm tree. Inside, it smelt the way all good bookshops should, of remembered forests, both real and imagined, and inky dreams punctuated with peril, high-stakes adventure and dragons.

  In this case, it was also fragranced with the tropical scent of its customers’ sunblock.

  ‘You’re in luck.’ The woman behind the counter tossed her long braids over her shoulder. ‘We have one copy left – on the Hurricane Specials table at the back. It’s so hot off the press, it’s practically smoking.’

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jess saw a girl with deep brown skin making a beeline for the Hurricane Specials. She flew between the shelves, but it was too late. The girl was clutching Castle of Secrets to her chest, face aglow. Her beaming mother was wishing her happy birthday.

  Jess could not have been more crushed if an entire box of copies of Lord of the Rings had fallen on her head – but what could she say? A birthday today trumped a birthday tomorrow. She’d have wept if the girl hadn’t looked so delighted. At least Ellie Ellis’s newest bestseller was going to a deserving home.

  ‘Don’t worry – we can order you another,’ the bookseller consoled her. ‘We’d have it in by Tuesday. When do you leave Tortola?’

  Jess tore off to the boatyard to find Gabe. Surely they could stay an extra couple of days? It’s not as if they were on a schedule. Early on in their voyage, she’d asked her guardian how long they’d be at sea and he’d laughed at the question.

  ‘That’s not how sailing around the world works, girl! We’re not in a race or on a timetable.
We’re living the dream! Best guess says it’ll take two years. Depends on the wind and the tides and whether we need to stop for repairs or to earn extra cash or whatever. We’re going with the flow, you know.’

  At the boatyard, yachts were parked on trailers or winched up high in harnesses like wounded whales. Jess spotted Gabe right away. He was talking to someone silhouetted behind a dinghy sail. She hung back, not wanting to be dragged into any dreary discussions about inboard engine diagnostics.

  Suddenly, Gabe’s voice rose. ‘Sorry, pal, you have the wrong man. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .’

  Through the white sail cloth, Jess saw a shadowy hand grip Gabe’s shoulder and spin him around. For an instant he and the stranger were shadow-boxing.

  Jess, frozen as a shrimp on ice, thought she heard the other man snarl, ‘If you ever breathe a word . . . you’ll live to regret it.’ Then a welding iron shrieked in the boatyard workshop, drowning out his angry words.

  Before Jess could run for help, Gabe came striding towards her. He had a beetroot-coloured face and his collar was crooked, yet he grinned at her as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  ‘What happened?’ cried Jess.

  ‘What happened where? Hey, how did you get on at the bookshop? Did you find The Castle of Adventure or whatever it’s called?’

  Jess stared at him in confusion. The book had gone from her head. ‘No, I mean, are you OK? That person seemed . . . upset.’

  The skipper kept walking. ‘Oh, him. We had a minor disagreement over the price of a new winch. Too much sun can make a man crazy. Those types are best avoided. Change of plan. Let’s grab a takeaway, round up your brother and dog, and hop on a quad bike to Josiah’s Bay. Turns out the beach barbecue here’s a bit of a tourist trap.’

  Jess glanced over his shoulder. The silhouette behind the dinghy sail had vanished.

  By the following morning, so had Gabe.

  2

  EVEN GOOD PEOPLE HAVE SECRETS

  ‘There has to be a logical explanation – something we’ve missed,’ said Jess. ‘He can’t have just disappeared . . . Can he?’