Again the Skylark forged ahead, and was a length in advance of the Sea Foam, when the yachts came up with Turtle Head.
"You are losing it, Don John," said Ned, apparently not much displeased at the result.
"Not yet," replied Donald. "A pull on the main sheet, Dick," added the skipper, as he put the helm down. "Give her six inches more centre-board, Ned."
"You will be on the rocks, Don John!" shouted the owner of the yacht, as the Sea Foam dashed under the stern of the Skylark, and ran in close to the shore.
"Don't be alarmed, Ned. Haul down the jib-sheet a little more! Steady! Belay!" said the confident skipper.
By this manœuvre the Sea Foam gained a position to windward of her rival; but she ran within half her breadth of beam of the dangerous rocks, and Ned expected every instant the race would end in a catastrophe. She went clear, however; for Donald knew just the depth of water at any time of tide. Both yachts were now under the lee of the island, and went along more gently than before. It was plain enough now that the Sea Foam had the advantage. Beyond the Head, and near the ledge, she was obliged to brace up to the wind, in order to leave the buoy on the port, as required by the rule. Donald kept her moving very lively, and when she had made her two tacks, she had weathered the buoy, and, rounding it, she gybed so near the ledge that the commodore could not have crawled in between him and the buoy if he had been near enough to do so. Hauling up the centre-board, and letting off the sheets, the Sea Foam went for a time before the wind.
When the Skylark had rounded the buoy, and laid her course for Turtle Head again, she was at least an eighth of a mile astern of her rival. Donald hardly looked at her, but gazed steadfastly at the sails and the shore of the island. The sheets had to be hauled in little by little, as she followed the contour of the land, till at the point below Turtle Head the yacht had the wind forward of the beam. Then came the home stretch, and the skipper trimmed his sails, adjusted the centre-board, and stationed his crew as live weights with the utmost care. It was only necessary for him to hold his own in order to win the race, and he was painfully anxious for the result.
Donald sailing the Sea Foam. [Page 166].
In the Skylark the commodore saw just where he had lost his advantage, and regretted too late that he had permitted the Sea Foam to get to windward of him; but he strained every nerve to recover his position. The wind continued to freshen, and probably both yachts would have done better with a single reef in the mainsail; but there was no time to reduce sail. As they passed Turtle Head and came out into the open bay, the white-capped waves broke over the bows, dashing the spray from stem to stern. Neither Donald nor Robert flinched a hair, or permitted a sheet to be started.