“I’ll take over now, Li. You go forward and be the lookout. Take the binoculars,” he suggested.
All morning they continued their crisscrossing course. The high noon sun blazed down on them. The heat soon dried the bedding. Biff heaved to long enough to carry the bedding below and make up the berths.
They had a sandwich, then stretched out on the hot deck for a brief rest. The boat drifted.
“Where do you think we are now, Li?” Biff asked.
Li looked shoreward. They could just make out the coastline.
“I think we’ve rounded Ka Lae. Must be just off the black sand beach.”
“Black sand?”
“Yes, Biff. The lava from Kilauea spilled down to the ocean. The surf ground it up into a fine black powder, really finer than sand. That’s why it’s called the black sand beach. It’s all along the Puna coast, all the way up to Hilo—that’s a city on the west side of the Big Island.”
“I think we ought to change course, then. Head a point or two north by northeast. Then we’ll wing back east and return to the anchorage.”
Li was at the tiller. He came about, and the Easy Action was put on a long reach, pushed briskly along by a southerly wind.