Page 80 of Sail Away with Me

“Oh.” the older man adjusted his hat. “Late seventies, early eighties. I won the national champion in my last year, and then broke my back the next. Ended my career right there.”

“Ouch. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I remember reading about you when you were in high school. I thought for sure we’d see you on the circuit.”

Sail lifted his lip briefly. “I’m not sure why I didn’t stick with it.”

“How long did you train for this regatta?”

This time Sail laughed. “A week.”

“A week?” The answer shocked Nathan. “Your natural talent is hard to come by. Good luck today.”

Most of the sailors spent months preparing for an event like this with endless drills, studying wind patterns and mastering the art of boat handling. Crew came in clutch with his windcharting and how the dinghy would handle. Last weekend when they raced, Sail didn’t stand a chance. He was thankful he didn’t have to race his brother today. Knowledge of the area definitely played a factor in Sail’s success during the regatta.

“Thank you. It was nice meeting you.”

Nathan gave him a wave and headed behind a tent. Sail kept walking. His feet hit the metal ramp and then the wood planks as he made his way to his dinghy. He sat on the dock, closed his eyes, and pictured the course, mimicking every move, tug and lean he would have to when it was time to race.

Mostly, he sat there and raced the wind until it was time to perform.

Sail’sfingers tightened around the mast of his ILCA 7. He could feel the pulse of anticipation running through the other sailors on the beach, a ripple of shared energy. The boats were lined up in neat rows, their sails furled, hulls poised like athletes on starting blocks. This was it—one race left—and he’d be the champion. He’d already beat his main opponent, but they were still tied in points.

The crowd buzzed with excitement and anticipation. In the park, there was a DJ, food trucks, and when Sail walked around earlier to find Galvin, he bought her balloon art in the shape of a sailboat.

Before his first race, he’d spent time with Galvin. He brought her down to where his boat was, pointed a few things out, and then walked her back to where mom was holding court. Everyone they knew was there, rooting for him. There was a large Seaport contingent sitting the park, all wearing Sail CarterT-shirts that his brother Tidal had made and was selling for twenty bucks a pop.

Now, Sail waited.

“Everything set?” Jack asked as he reached Sail.

Sail was beyond grateful for his dad and brothers. Without them, none of this would’ve happened. Hell, without messing up at school, he wouldn’t be where he was right now.

“Yeah,” Sail said, his voice steady and calm. “I’m ready.”

Jack nodded. “Good. Winds are supposed to pick up now that the fog has burned off. First gun is in a few minutes.”

“I hate the sound of the gun.”

“I know but it’s the only thing everyone hears. Someday, someone will come up with something that doesn’t startle the crap out of everyone.”

“That’ll be nice.”

The course he was about to race was a triangle-windward-leeward. Sail would need to reach the marks, while staying on course, and beating Lex Danke back to the finish line.

Crew and Dune came down the dock, and Crew went to work on the boat. Sail tried to pay attention to what his brother was doing but felt better not asking questions and just letting his brother tinker.

“You nervous?” Dune asked.

Sail shook his head. “Fucking terrified.”

“You’ll be fine,” Crew said. He pulled Sail aside and they went over the course again. After a handful of minutes, Crew held his hand up for a high-five. “You’ve got this.”

Sail nodded.

The signal horn blared, a long, deliberation screech meant to alert everyone. Sail shook hands with his brothers, and then hugged his dad.

“I’ll see you at the finish line,” Jack told him.

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