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Authors: Rosanne Hawke

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Acknowledgements

Thank you to the Eleanor Dark Foundation for a Writers' Retreat Fellowship at Varuna Writers' Centre where the draft of
Sailmaker
was written. Thank you to Trent, Peter and Pat Bartram for their helpful suggestions and hospitality. My thanks also go to the students of Edithburgh, Parafield Gardens and Victor Harbour Primary Schools and class 7B at Tyndale Christian School; the Edithburgh Museum; Chris Johnson, Stuart Paxton, David Linke; Linley Eagle of Alegayter Sails; Colin Moulden, Robert Penner, Margaret Lineage who first asked, and Antoni Jach for the sailmaker's eye.

An account of the keeper's ghost can be read in an article by Max Fatchen in
The Advertiser
, 23 May 1992.

The tale of Tom Bawcock's Eve is found in Tony Dean and Tony Shaw's
The Folklore of Cornwall
, Batsford, London, 1975.

Glossary

berley
hookless bait

boom
the spar (pole) that stretches the sail from the mast

change tack
change direction

cockles
shellfish, used for bait

course
the track along which the board sails

cutter
a single-masted sailing boat

dagger board
the fin projecting beneath the sailboard

drop in a line/drop-in
to put a line in to fish

foot straps
board fittings in which feet are placed

gents
maggots used for bait

gybing
making a 180° turn, starting with the wind behind you (a reverse tack)

mast
spar (pole) on which the sail is mounted

old salt
someone who's been fishing or boating for many years

on the bite
when the fish are hungry and biting well

pick
anchor

rig
(for fishing) assembled tackle

rigging
(for sailboarding) assembling the mast, sail and boom ready for sailing

sea dog
a sailor, usually of long experience

set
when the hook is firmly stuck in the fish

strike
moving your rod up sharply to hook a fish

swell
long rolling waves in the ocean that don't break

tacking
weaving back and forth into the wind to change direction

tackle
equipment used for fishing – e.g. line, hooks, sinkers etc.

tinnie
small aluminium boat

to change tack
to change course

tommies
tommy ruff – small edible fish usually caught near jetties

wake/wash
the waves behind a boat that are made by the motor

wet a line
to go fishing

zigzag
a type of tacking when sailing into the wind

1

Finally I'm doing something I've always dreamt of: diving on a wreck. Mei and I have been having group lessons in the holidays with Mr Pengelly, the town's tour guide, down at the jetty. Our jetty is the best in all of South Australia for practising diving. And today is the day. Today we are actually going to dive in the ocean on the
Clan Ranald
, our closest wreck. There are thirty-five wrecks around our part of the coast. Treacherous shoals near here, but putting a lighthouse on the island in 1855 stopped ships getting wrecked.

Mr Pengelly is taking our group out to the
Clan Ranald
on his tour boat. This dive is one thing I want to get right. I've never been one for rules but diving's got lots of them. There are even special rules for diving on wrecks. Mr Pengelly reminds us, ‘No disturbing the historical evidence. Have you got that, Joel Billings?' Now why does he single me out? Shawn Houser sniggers. Mei gives him a frown – she's a real mate.

‘Do you feel okay?' Mei asks me.

I think she's talking about Shawn so I say I'm cool.

‘The dive,' she prompts. ‘To tell you the truth I'm a bit scared. Are you?'

That's Mei – she'll say if she's scared but she'll go ahead and do what she has to anyway. I reckon that's brave. As for me I'm not sure whether the jumping in my guts is excitement or nerves – maybe both.

‘Yeah,' I say, and she gives me a thumbs up.

When we're out over the wreck, Mei and I check our tanks and put on the first stage regulator – we still need help with that. Mr Pengelly explains the steps slowly as if it's the first lesson. Shawn Houser's done it all before with his dad. ‘Hey, Bilious, do it like this.' He smirks as he attaches his hose before Mr Pengelly says to. Shawn used to bother me a lot. It's hard but I try to ignore him now. Mei and I help each other into our gear and check the air supply is okay.

Then we sit on the side of the boat to put our fins on. Before we roll in, Mr Pengelly asks us all one question: ‘Do you really feel like doing the dive?'

I look at him like he's crazy and grin at Mei.
Try to stop me now
, I hope my eyes say. Her eyes behind the mask are clear and excited, no sign of fear. Only one old duck backs out. ‘I'm not feeling the best,' she croaks, and Mr Pengelly nods like she's passed a test.

The moment comes. Mei and I tip backwards into the sea. Mei pinches her nose as we sink through the water. I'm used to snorkelling but diving is way different. I have to switch to my regulator now, and I'm hit by that scary moment of whether it will work or not. Every time I think,
Will I really be able to breathe?
But every time I can. Guess my biggest fear is getting the bends coming up – that's decompression sickness, a terrible pain in the lungs. See, I've learnt lots this summer. Mr Pengelly says we won't get the bends if we follow his instructions. ‘Never swim up faster than your bubbles,' he always says.

I keep the anchor line in sight. Mei is just above me. She's my diving buddy and we've learnt the hand signals for going up and down, for trouble, running out of air. I hope I don't need that one. Mei and I even have a few hand signs of our own. Right now, she signals the ‘round okay' with her thumb and forefinger.

Colours fade the lower we go and Mei's red mask turns brown. The wreck sprawls below us, like a reef. When I first see it close up, I get this eerie feeling. Down here it's cold and quiet except for the bubbles and my breathing, which sounds like thunder. Mei and I fin a bit to stay in the same spot. The oldies fin too fast and stir up the sand. The ship's deck isn't easy to see since there's so much algae growing on it. Weeds and kelp wave at me and fish flash by.

Then I have a chilling thought. There's a mass grave in our town for the blokes from this ship who didn't make it, but what if they didn't find someone's body? Would he still be here? I look for Mei. She'll be thinking the same as me, for sure.

We swim to the deck to check it out. This is the deepest I've been: twenty metres. I imagined diving would be easy, just like snorkelling, but the thought of all that water on top of me makes me glance up to check the surface is still there.

We explore the deck and after what feels like only a few minutes, the others start to surface. They have no sense of adventure. Mr Pengelly's boat is not far away. I can see its shape above us, and that's when I catch a shadow out of the corner of my eye. I do a slow circle. Was it anything? Or just a strap on my mask? Mei's signalling, making a fist for danger. She's seen something too.

This time I see a flash. Something bigger than a fish. It looms above me now and I feel the water swing around me. Fish are swimming away, flitting one way, then the other. What is it? A shark? We get white pointers in these waters. How big is it? Mei's close, signalling thumbs up – she wants to rise – then I feel the water shift again and the thing bumps my tank. I see it glide over us. Yes, a shark, but not a white pointer. It's smaller, about a metre long – a gummy maybe?

One thing I do know: we can't surface right now. It's too dangerous. I pull Mei's arm and signal for her to lie on the ocean floor. She understands and lies close beside me but it's the hardest thing to do: keep still while a shark roams nearby. What if it sniffs us out and mistakes us for lunch? I'm hoping we'll be so quiet it'll go away.

But no, it heads straight for us. I can see its pointed nose and the white dots on its grey body as it swings its head from side to side. Surely it eats only little fish. I grab Mei's hand, shut my eyes and breathe out bubbles. I feel a whoosh of water as the shark darts straight over us. Sand rises and settles. We lie there waiting for it to come back but it doesn't. I sit up to check the water. We're the only people down here now. The shark has gone too.

Mei keeps hold of my hand as we kick up to the boat as fast as we're allowed. I wish we could go quicker but I think of the bends; I just have to remember to keep breathing. I swear I see a shadow on my right – the shark again? This time we have to surface. My legs feel like they've been shoved into a hornet's nest – they'll get bitten for sure. I wish I could tuck them close to my body. Just our luck: we dive on our first wreck and see a shark. We're not far from the boat now. We surface and Mr Pengelly pulls us in.

‘Good thing you came up when you did,' he says once Mei and I have taken off our masks. ‘Look.' Sure enough, there's a fin gliding through the water ten metres from the boat. Mei and I look at each other, weighing up what we should say. It's like we both come to a decision at the same time. She shakes her head slightly and I agree. No point spilling the beans, saying it was down there with us. Gran and Mei's mum might ban us from diving. Mei's used to seeing sharks from when she helps out on her dad's trawler but I can tell she's spooked at being so close to one in the water. Her hands shake as she takes off the rest of her gear.

You're more likely to die of a bee sting, or a bike crash, than from a shark attack, but I know how scary they can be. Right now I have a shark of my own to deal with, and that's Scott, my biological father. He tried to kidnap me on Gala Day over a year ago. He tried it when I was a little tacker too. I don't remember that time though. Scott thought he could get Grandad's money if he was looking after me, but he's crazy. Drugs have wrecked his brain. Now I've been called to give evidence in court against him for the latest attack.

If I don't go it will be called ‘contempt of court' and I'll be in bigger trouble than a sea lion in a shark tank. Dev, my foster dad, has got time off from the trawler to take me on Monday. This sort of suspense I can do without. I wish it was over.

Also in this series by Rosanne Hawke

THE KEEPER

Get hooked on the first gripping book in this action-packed adventure series!

Twelve-year-old Joel hasn't had an easy life – the school bully picks on him and his parents abandoned him long ago. He lives with his over-protective gran who won't even let him enter a fishing competition! Joel reckons having a new dad would solve all his problems, so he places an ad in the local paper.

When a tattooed, long-haired biker named Dev Eagle answers the ad, Joel's world is turned upside down. But Dev is not the only new stranger in town – someone from Joel's past is back to haunt him.

ISBN 978 0 7022 4973 0

First published 2002 by Lothian Children's Books,

an imprint of Hachette Australia

This edition first published 2013 by University of Queensland Press

PO Box 6042, St Lucia, Queensland 4067 Australia

www.uqp.com.au

© Rosanne Hawke 2002

This book is copyright. Except for private study, research, criticism or reviews, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission. Enquiries should be made to the publisher.

Typeset in 11.5/16.5 pt Rotis Semi Sans by Post Pre-press Group, Brisbane

Printed in Australia by McPherson's Printing Group

Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

National Library of Australia

Hawke, Rosanne.

Sailmaker / Rosanne Hawke.

For primary school age.

Haunted lighthouses – Juvenile fiction.

A823.3

ISBN (pbk) 978 0 7022 4972 3

ISBN (epdf) 978 0 7022 5128 3

ISBN (epub) 978 0 7022 5129 0

ISBN (kindle) 978 0 7022 5130 6

University of Queensland Press uses papers that are natural, renewable and recyclable products made from wood grown in sustainable forests. The logging and manufacturing processes conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.

BOOK: Sailmaker
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