“Now tonight, I don’t think it’s necessary to have a standing watch. There’s been no sign of Perez Soto so far. But one of us ought to sleep on deck. Any volunteers?” Biff’s father asked.
“Me, Dad.” Biff jumped at the chance. “I’d love to. Nice warm night. The sleeping will be better under the stars than it will be in the cabin.”
“Okay, let’s all turn in. Big day ahead.”
Biff spread out a sleeping bag on the Easy Action’s foredeck. He lay on his back, his eyes staring up and the millions of stars twinkling in the sky overhead. The sound of the surf came distinctly. It was a soothing sound, and shortly Biff was lulled to sleep.
Some hours later, he was awakened slowly. He heard the distant throb of a powerful engine. At first, Biff thought it must be an airplane. But then, as he became wider awake, he realized the throbbing came not from the air, but the sea. It grew louder as the craft, whatever it was, drew nearer.
Biff sat up, propping himself on one arm. Now there was no mistaking it. A boat, one with a powerful engine, was rapidly approaching the Easy Action’s anchorage. Biff stood up. He peered into the starlight night. He could see the reflection of stars twinkling on the water’s surface. Then he made out the outlines of a cabin cruiser throwing a fan-tail white wake, heading fast toward the Easy Action.
“Fools,” Biff muttered to himself, “if they don’t change course, they’ll ram us.”
He knew the white-hulled yawl was sharply outlined against the starlit waters. Then he suddenly knew what was happening. The on-charging cruiser was aiming at the yawl. It meant to ram her.
Biff raised a cry. It was too late. His voice was drowned out by the roar of the cruiser’s engines—Biff knew now that it was a twin-engined craft.
Now the boat seemed on top of the yawl. Its bow, with a much higher freeboard than the low-lying yawl, reared up menacingly only twenty feet from the sailing craft. Surely it would crash them, ram them, send them to the bottom of the sea, with Biff’s father, Hank Mahenili, and Li trapped below.