Crash Course by Derek Fee (pdf to ebook reader .txt) 📕

have to keep telling you how important this race is to me but do your best and be careful out there.” He hugged Morweena and shook hands with Kane. “I’d better go and join Tom. Good luck.”

Doc tossed Kane and Morweena their orange lifejackets and their helmets.

They took their places in the cockpit and waited silently, each with their own thoughts. This was what all the hard work and money was about. Two hours plus from now they would know whether it had been worth it.

Kane looked out at the choppy waters. They would be doing one hundred and twenty-five knots over those waves. Their concentration could fail at any moment and they would end up either flying or playing submarine. In either case, the effect would not be pretty. He glanced over at Morweena. Her gaze was fixed directly ahead. Two helicopters swooped low overhead whipping up the grey waters of the marina. The rotors beat at the rain-laden air as the machines hovered above the waiting boats.

Kane was concentrating so intently that he didn’t hear or see the signal to start up the engines but he followed the lead of the other drivers. Within the space of seconds, sixty thousand horsepower leapt into life. The sound of the boats’ engines drowned out the sound of the helicopters. As though giving way to the superior noise, the choppers wheeled together and made for the entrance to the marina where they disappeared.

The first of the boats was making its way slowly away from the marina and out to open water. As soon as there was a space, Kane nodded at Morweena and she eased the throttle forward so that they joined the line of powerboats making their way to the start. As they edged the boat closer to the entrance of the marina, they saw the white-capped waves washing against the outer walls.

“Rough water today,” Morweena said absentmindedly. She echoed Kane’s thoughts.

“Nothing you two can’t handle,” David’s voice came over the communications system. There was a note of apprehension in his voice.

This wasn’t a horse race over a limited distance so there was no need for lining up or stalls. Offshore racing was a test of endurance as well as speed so it was immaterial who got away first. The boats began milling around the start and Kane saw the starter’s white flag hoisted on the boat nearest to him. Morweena revved the engines while keeping the gear in neutral. The tension in the air was palpable. Suddenly the flag came down and the boats screamed away in the direction of the first buoy beneath the ruins of Pompei. Kane was flung back as Morweena gave the engines full throttle but he adjusted quickly and pointed the boat’s nose in the direction that the other boats were taking. He cursed himself for being so slow off the mark. Where were those famed reactions when it came down to the wire? At least fifteen boats were racing in front of them throwing up streams of spray in their wake.

Kernow was riding low in the water, weighed down by the thousand litres of fuel in its tanks. The engines screeched as they powered the heavy boat through the waves at over a hundred knots leaping over and then crashing into the grey waters. Kane felt the drag on the boat as it plunged into the waves. He looked over quickly at Morweena and saw that there was a look of intense concentration on her face.

The first of the boats were rounding the buoy ahead of them and Kane prepared himself to drag the heavy machine left in their wake. Morweena eased off on the throttle at exactly the right moment and he swung the nose of the boat around to face the entrance of the bay.

He looked ahead at the scene of boats skimming and leaping over the waves. It was one hell of a spectacle but they weren’t there to sightsee. He felt more than saw the coast peeling away to his right as he fought to keep the boat on course for the second buoy at the Castello del Aragonese beyond the island of Ischia. As the city of Naples unfurled before them, the boats were beginning to spread out and Kane strained to see through the spray-covered windshield. He thought he recognised the colours of Jackson’s Brit1 up among the leaders along with the red sunburst of Tadeka’s catamaran. Cold spray splattered the hull and beat against the windscreen, all but obliterating the scene before them. The engines whined as Morweena kept the boat speeding ahead. Kane could feel the strain in his arms and legs from the buffeting of the waves. There would be no relaxing until they passed the finishing post.

“How are things going?” The strain in David’s voice crackled in their helmets.

“So far so good,” Kane replied.

“The field’s pretty spread out already. Don’t forget that the object is staying in there to the finish. Offshore isn’t for sprinters.”

“Don’t worry, David, we’ve got the message.”

The race was beginning to settle into a pattern. The faster catamarans were already in the lead, burning up the course as they sped ahead. Kane had moved up three places and was firmly based in the chasing group while the deep-V boats ran along steadily behind knowing that their time would come when the catamarans would lighten and need to drop speed to maintain stability.

The leaders rounded the second buoy and raced towards Capri. The boats were spread out along the course as each driver chose his own route to the next buoy. This was where powerboat racing differed from motor racing. There was no racetrack. Each driver chose his route between the buoys trying to gain what little advantage he could from the weather conditions and the sea state. On the most exposed part of the circuit, Kane fought to keep the boat on course as it bucked and thrashed against the waves.

“Enjoying the ride?” Morweena’s voice was strained. The boat