Windhaven

By David Burton

Noah Wells is a last minute replacement crew member on a 70 foot sailboat set to race nonstop around the world.
All goes well until they are well East of New Zealand in the inhospitable Southern Ocean. A Rouge Wave turns an exciting race into a race for survival.
The huge wave hits Windhaven, taking all their communications, rendering the engine inoperable, and taking several of the crew. Noah and “Iron Lady” Leigh Tag, though injured, fight for days to keep Windhaven afloat. Once the storm has passed, they work for months through crisis after crisis, performing medical procedures they are untrained for to reach South America thousands of miles away.
During their months at sea one thing prevents Noah from giving up – Quinn, a woman he met the night before he left. As cliché as it sounded to him, she was the One. He had to survive to see her again. Quinn felt the same way about him, until she thought she didn’t.
Close to shore, Noah, Leigh and Thomas, minus a leg, have been through too much, with good reason, to believe they are safe. They refuse to leave Windhaven until she sinks, or is safely tied up to shore.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Burton
• Release date: Mar 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215186749

David Burton

David Burton is an American writer living in sunny Southern California. He traveled by motorcycle through Mexico, US, Canada and Alaska. From motorcycles he turned to the ocean, building and sailing his own boats to Mexico, Tahiti, Hawaii, and through the Panama Canal to Florida. He spent a lot of time reading while on the water, so he decided to write books he would have wanted to read at sea.Having swallowed the anchor he now mops floors and collects trash for money, writes for a living, and has become a (temporarily?) unrequited sailor.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Eyes wide, Noah Wells backed against the galley and stared at the cell phone he held out as if it might explode. What the hell have I done? he asked himself and the universe in general. He set the phone down and gazed about his thirty-five-foot sailboat home. Indecision swirled about his mind as his eyes settled on a photo of the fifty-foot racing sailboat he had crewed on in the Bermuda race. He winced, not wanting to remember what happened.

Could he redeem himself on this race? Red had just handed him an opportunity to find out. Would he feel shame or relief if he reneged on his agreement to go? A good-sized boat fifty feet, but seventy-feet was a much bigger good-sized boat. Did he really want to spend months at sea with seven strangers on a seventy-foot racing sailboat. Could he walk away from his comfortable, but ho-hum, life?

Gut tight, he paced the teak floorboards trying to talk himself out of it, but he knew the answer. If he didn’t go he’d regret it for the rest of his, face it, boring existence. He had no one to try and talk him out of going, or back his decision to go. It was up to him.

But really, he knew the answer, no use trying to talk himself out of it, knowing all along, Fuck it, I’m going.

----:----

Thirty-six hours later, after phone calls, emails, errands, a few handshakes, hugs, and cheek kisses goodbye, Noah dropped his sea bag on the deck and let out a deep sigh. Tomorrow morning he would catch a flight to the East coast and two days later be at sea for five... six... seven months. Now he had nothing to do but wait. Instead of pacing in his limited space, he decided to go to Jubby’s

Twenty minutes later Noah walked into Jubby's Jazz Joint, a low-key bar with jazz or blues every night on a small stage in the back. Thursday night had a small crowd.

Noah, Jubby, a thin African American with a long face and a wide perpetual smile greeted him. Don't usually see you in de middle of the week. Run out of words?

Came in for my free going-away gift beer.

Jubby set a bottle of Coor's in front of him. Goin' away? Where to?

Around the world.

Sailing?

Not my boat. A seventy-foot sailboat, racing nonstop around the world.

Whoa, that a lot of water.

About thirty thousand and some miles of it. Noah took a long sip from the bottle then looked at himself in the bar mirror. Seeing himself in the mirror it really hit home what he was about to do.

Jubby leaned his elbows on the bar and looked Noah in the eye. You sure you want to do this? You scared?

Yeah, a little, but more excited, I think. It's a hell of an adventure.

A woman came in and sat on a stool two down from Noah. He'd been married once for a short, uncomfortable time. He’d been single for forty of his forty-four years, a few long-term relationships, but he liked his writing/boat-living life too much to inflict it on any woman who wasn't as independent as him. So he checked her out with no guilt.

Pretty, blonde, a tiny bit fluffy. She turned to him and smiled.

The woman had a nice smile, a little shy, a little come hither. Noah turned away. He didn't need to be thinking what he was thinking. Tomorrow he was leaving for six months, give or take.

Jubby set a beer down in front of her. Quinn, haven't seen you in awhile. Long day in the third grade?

Always. She took a long slug of beer. Just need a beer or two and some good jazz tonight.

I have both. The guys start at nine. He threw a nod at Noah. Meanwhile talk to Noah, there. He's sailing around the world tomorrow. Probably won't see a woman for six months.

Jubba, she didn't come here to talk with me. Sounds like all she wants is beer and jazz. That's enough for both of us. No offense. There was that smile again.

None taken. Around the world in six months? That's pretty fast, isn't it?

Noah sipped his beer to give himself time to get whatever was happening to him together. Maybe a little conversation wouldn't hurt. I hope so, he said, clearing his throat. I'll be on a seventy-foot full-on ocean racing sailboat. No stops, balls out all the way.

Sounds like an adventure.

He stared at her well worn sneaker clad feet. Blew out a breath as if deflating himself. To tell the truth I've barely had time to just sit and take in the whole thing. I just found out two days ago, I'm leaving tomorrow, two days later we're gone. Eyes wide he shrugged – what're you gonna do?

Quinn turned on her stool. I did some sailing, just around here, Catalina, up to LA with my uncle when I was a young girl.

A young girl. That was what, last week?

She laughed. A good laugh, self-deprecating, real. A lot of weeks. Teaching third grade ages you twice as fast as normal.

Yeah, I remember third grade.

The band, a young group quartet, piano, bass, drums and a female guitar player, mounted the small stage. The audience grew quickly forcing Noah to move next to Quinn, which he didn't mind. Quinn didn't seem to mind either.

Knee to knee she asked, So tell me about this race.

He didn't know much, but it seemed like three rich guys with big, fast boats wanted to do a long race. Length of the race got a little out of hand, so the next Sunday seven boats fifty-five to seventy feet were leaving Providence, Rhode Island to sail around the world. First one back won seven dollars, the entrance fee, they were rich it wasn't about the money, and a knock off America's Cup trophy. The race wasn't officially sanctioned, but they did have a command center they had to report to, supposedly every week.

The quartet began to play. The opening number had their feet tapping and heads bobbing. More jazz lovers entered, slowly forcing them closer. She smelled good. How long had it been? Oh man, don't start thinking about it – her. In six months she'd have forgotten all about him. The same for him, probably. He rested his arm on her seatback. She knew it was there, but didn't seem to mind. The next tune was Herbie Hancock's Maiden Voyage. He closed his eyes to listen, that tune always got to him. Somehow his hand rested on her shoulder. She leaned into it.

When the tune finished Quinn turned to him, their faces inches apart. There was that wry smile bordering on snarky, eyes green as shallow tropical water. Maiden Voyage, she said, her voice a bit rough. That's you, tomorrow.

Yeah. What else could he do but kiss her. Christ, so soft and warm. For a moment he jumped back to his first real kiss at sixteen with Carla Gramm, the girl he was going to spend the rest of his life with. That didn't happen, but those three months were real zingers. They parted, three inches, no more. She touched a finger to his cheek and kissed him a kiss that lasted until morning.

Chapter 2

Sipping instant coffee Noah kept for visitors, Quinn sat at the settee table and watched him efficiently scramble eggs, cook bacon and toast. She wore the jeans from the night before and one of Noah’s long-sleeve shirts against the early morning chill. She’d showered in the marina’s bathrooms and her hair was still wet and unfettered.

Noah wore his light brown hair short and had no use for a hair dryer. It figured she’d like the guy who was going away for half a year on an adventure she thought she’d like to go on, too. When he glanced into her bright green eyes and saw a slightly embarrassed, yet thoroughly satisfied, smile he shivered with the warm memory of her touch. How long had it been since he’d had great sex and so often? Never?

Noah refilled her coffee cup then slid a plate full of eggs and bacon and toast and small pile of leftover potatoes in front of her. Eat up. You’ll need your strength for those wild third graders. He sat across from her with his own plate. Staring at his food he raised his eyes and met hers. You look beautiful this morning.

I feel beautiful. You look pretty yourself, if a bit sleepy.

Your fault.

At least you’ll get to sleep on the plane. She moved her eggs around with her fork. Unless you’ve decided at the last minute not go sailing off into the sunset. Noah studied the piece of bacon in his hand. He’d spent some time during the night thinking just that. It seemed very possible to him that she might be a worthy excuse to back out which deep down in the dark recess of his psyche he really wanted to do.

He shrugged, "I’m committed. Or maybe I should be committed. It’s into the sunrise, actually."

They ate in silence for a couple minutes, then Quinn said, You said the race will have a website. I’ll follow your progress. Get my kids to root for you.

He cocked his head hoping a thought would fall out. He grinned and shook a finger in the air. I forgot until just now, I think their planning to set up streaming visits by satellite to schools. The kids will be able to ask questions of the crew and get real-time answers. You’ll have to check the website. Maybe I won’t have to wait six months to see you again. Quinn’s eyes opened wide in question. That is if you don’t mind.

Her grin matched his. And maybe I won’t have to wait either.

Done with breakfast they stood by the companionway ladder not sure what to do or say. Noah said, I’d say thanks for last night, but that seems a bit unseemly.

Quinn said, I was sort of thinking the same thing. How are you getting to the airport?

Uber.

Then why don’t you thank me for a ride to the airport?

Won’t your third graders be pining for your smiling face?

They’ll survive. I have a teaching assistant, I can take half a day.

Noah stepped up close. Are you going to walk me in and kiss me goodbye at the gate?

Quinn moved a few inches closer. Yes.

Then thanks.

Chapter 3

Before he fell asleep on the plane Noah’s waking dreams centered on Quinn Truby. He only learned her last name as they walked up to security. The name had a nice ring to it. He didn’t really believe in love at first sight. First night, maybe. He ran through the firsts – first smile, first kiss, first time they made love, both nervous, but laughing, first breakfast that felt so true.

He woke about a half hour before they landed. The smile he slept in turned tight and nervous. The woman faded a bit replaced by the boat, its crew and the sea. Plane landed, he breathed several deep breaths and, chuffing at the drama circling in his head, went to meet his fate.

The first mate, Ricky Kiln, a six foot, broad shouldered guy with unruly dark hair, picked up Noah at the airport. After quick introductions Ricky guided him to a full size SUV loaded with equipment and food.

How long has the crew been together, Noah asked once away from the airport.

All of us, about three months, Ricky said. Some of us longer.

I’m sorry about your guy breaking his leg.

Not too sorry, I’d bet. Now you get to go.

Noah shrugged. There is that, though I have to admit I’m a little nervous. This is a big step up from anything I’ve done.

Red told us what you’ve done. You impressed on the Bermuda race. Just take it easy at first. You’ll fit in.

I imagine your guy is disappointed.

He’ll get over it. He has a new girlfriend he’d rather hang out with than a bunch of crazy sailors.

Noah crossed his arms and held himself tight. I know how he feels.

Windhaven floated like a sleek water beast yearning to be released to its home at sea. The sight of her rocking gently against the dock lines sent a thrill through Noah. He took in the seventy feet of racing sailboat with sky blue streaming lines spelling out Windhaven on a dark blue hull; A fine bow and a fat stern with a long low cabin and long cockpit. A performance yacht not necessarily designed for racing, she had one big wheel at the helm and polished stainless steel hardware all gleaming in the afternoon sun.

Ricky gave him a minute to take it all in. What do you think?

Beautiful.

Yeah, she is. Wait till you see her under full sail. Ricky clapped him on the shoulder. Come on, new guy. Meet your new best friends.

Noah took a deep breath and descended the companionway ladder. Unlike the stark, all business deck, down below had a bit more flare. Mostly white with teak trim and shades of blue in the cushions and a few small curtains over the small cabin side windows.

A navigation station from a space ship filled with instruments, computers, and communication equipment set to port of the ladder. A space with two bunks opened aft of the nav station.

Starboard were two more bunks, a fixed bottom and a fold up top pilot berth, then forward a large U-shaped settee next to gleaming, long, narrow galley. Six people, five men and a woman, sat around the settee table, inspecting him. A stocky man with a round shaved head and a red mustache stood up.

Noah, Captain Redfield Smathers said, reaching out to shake his hand. So glad you could make it. It’s going to be an adventure.

I imagine it will be, Noah said, failing to match Red’s strong grip.

Several of the crew shifted to give him space on the settee. Noah studied the group. One man he knew. Ivan, I see you’ve gained about three ounces since the last Trans Pac. Been eating your own food?

Ivan, rail thin with cocoa skin reached a long arm across the table. He grinned wide. Noah, good to have you aboard. I see you haven’t been eating my food, you’ve lost a few pounds.

Why do you think I came along?

The woman sitting next to Ivan, maybe forty or fifty, was short of stature, especially next to Ivan. She had skin weathered from years at sea, broad shoulders, and short unkempt hair. She shook with Noah, her calloused grip every bit as steely as Red’s.

Leigh Tag said, Ivan and Red say your okay, I hope they’re right.

I do, too, Noah said, not quite able to meet her icy blue stare.

Sitting beside Leigh, a young man, say mid-twenties, with a long face and a shock of blond hair gave a quick wave with a thumbless right hand. That’s Larry Brockard, Red said. He’s our navigation and weather wizard. Just a kid, but he knows his stuff.

Well, that’s good. I’d hate to get lost out there.

No worries, mate, Larry said with a mild Aussie accent. I’ll get ya home.

Glad to hear it.

Next is Alain Bienvenue, all around deck man and our resident monkey. If someone has to go up the mast, walk the boom or hang off the side, he’s the man.

Alain, slight, wiry with dusky skin and slicked back raven hair reached across to shake Noah’s hand. "Bonjour, Noah. Un plaisir. I hear vous êtes très compétant behind the helm."

I can usually keep going in the right direction.

Fast or slow if you ain’t goin’ in the right direction it’s not good, the well-muscled man next to Noah said with a Tex/Mex accent. I’m Thomas Santiago, deck man with Alain. He’s the brains, I’m the brawn. Least that’s what I tell him.

Plenty of need for both, Noah said. Even though I’m an old fart at forty-six I’ll do my best to help you win this little cruise.

Can’t ask for better than that. Red raised his beer. Well, this is our crew and here’s to us. Fair winds.

The whole crew clinked bottles. Fair winds.

Chapter 4

At five o’clock on Sunday morning Quinn, gripping her coffee with both hands, hunched over her home computer as an interviewer and camera worked their way down the dock, interviewing crew members and owners of the seven boats. She knew enough about boats to recognize the engineering, ingenuity, ruggedness, and the money involved in the sailboats getting ready to race around the world.

Interspersed with the interviews were short video clips of each boat at speed under full sail. The thrill of those boats powering through the water made her heart beat a little quicker each time, not only with excitement, but a bit of fear as the vessels crashed through rough seas. In the night as they lay together in his bunk Noah had admitted he was excited to join the race, but nervous, no, scared, too.

Windhaven was the fifth boat. Without thinking about it Quinn leaned in close to her screen searching for a glimpse of a man she only knew for fifteen hours, but had been on her mind for the two days since. Crazy. She’d probably never see him again, he’d probably already forgotten all about her. A one night stand before going off to sea. But, the way he had treated her with respect, cared about what she felt, kissed her, maybe he wouldn’t forget her. She’d stick with that thought.

There he was, coiling a line behind the Captain. All business, she thought. Taking it seriously, keeping himself safe. He looked good in the dark blue with sky blue trim Windhaven T-shirt. The thrill in her chest had nothing to do with sailing.

The interviewer asked, I hear you had to replace one of your crew only two days ago. Is that a liability? Most of the crews have sailed together for months or years. What if he doesn’t fit in?

Red shrugged. That is possible, but I’ve sailed with Noah before. He knows how to fit in. We did a short sail yesterday. He caught our rhythm quickly and worked well with the crew. He motioned to Noah to join him. "And the crew agrees. They welcomed him in true Windhaven fashion."

Noah laughed and shook his head. I just hope I don’t get pneumonia from being so ceremoniously thrown in the water. But I guess I can live with them.

Thomas came into the picture and clapped a beefy hand on his shoulder. Always good to know the new guy can swim and swear properly.

I hope I don’t have to swim again for awhile and if I have to swear it’ll probably be at you.

Thomas busted a laugh. "Damn effing right, amigo."

A woman, handsome rather than pretty, short hair, no nonsense, called from the companionway, Thomas, come and help us. You’re not on a Disney cruise, you know.

Holding his hands out in a what-can-you-do gesture, Thomas said, She calls, and went to help with last minute stores.

Noah, the interviewer asked, You were called up on very short notice. It must have been hard to leave your family and home so quickly.

I did have to scramble a bit to get stuff in order. But there’s not much of family left so that wasn’t a problem. He let out a deep breath. Though I did meet someone… ah, recently. Maybe she’ll remember me when I return.

I’m sure she will.

Quinn sat back with a wide grin