“We’re stuck like a turtle in a puddle,” commented Penny, not without satisfaction.
“We’ll get off!” Jack cried, seizing a paddle from the bottom of the boat.
He tried to shove away from the shoal, but the wind against the big sail resisted his strength.
“You’ll never get off that way,” Penny said calmly. “Why not take down the sail? We’re hard aground now.”
Jack glared, and looked as if he would like to heave the paddle at her.
“Okay,” he growled.
Winds which came from the head of Hat Island were tricky. Before Jack could lower the sail, the breeze, shifting slightly, struck the expanse of canvas from directly aft.
“Look out, Jack!” Penny screamed a warning. “We’re going to jibe!”
Jack ducked but not quickly enough. With great violence, the wind swung the sail over to the opposite side of the boat, the boom striking him a stunning blow on the back of the head.
Moaning with pain, he slumped into the bottom of the Spindrift.