Qhawana pointed the way forward in the night. In the dark before moonrise the phosphorescence of the breaking waves upon the reef had become the bright. But the spread of stars above shone brighter still.

The outrigger aimed now to sail for the break in the reef. Breaking waves flashed white against the dark of the sea dead ahead. Open ocean lay beyond, their destination Zenska, and civilization.

As the outrigger approached the fringing coral barrier a dark shadow filled the sea across their path. A blackness in the blooming white of breaking surf.

‘Sail on. That is the lagoon entrance. I know enough to recognize that where there is no surf there is a passage out into the sea beyond.’

The outrigger’s sail eased out and the craft slowed to a smooth drift, the rush of water hushed. Breeze slowed the kheel’s spin and the blue glow dropped to a shimmer in the corner of Peter’s eye.

‘Jupiter?’ Maggie said. ‘Why are you stopping?’

He made hushing sound. Of course — they had named him Jupiter — captain in the style of Eoth.

‘There’s something ahead. A shadow,’ Jupiter said. ‘Almost as if…’

‘It’s the passage to the sea,’ Qhawana said. ‘The way to open water.’

'Danger. Fly. Flee. Blackbirders.'

The chorus of cries seemed to come from the shadow.

Jupiter pulled the sail in and twisted the rudders to tack away. ’It’s a big canoe. A second lot of blackbirders.’

‘They guard the lagoon entrance,’ said Qhawana. ‘We’re trapped.’

‘I felt something,’ Jupiter said.

‘The slaves. They alerted us,’ said Maggie.

But too late. The shadowy canoe erupted in the white of hurried paddling. Cries of pain rose as the slave masters whipped their captives into action.

Jupiter could not see the wind indicator on the top of the mast, but could feel the direction of the wind. He trimmed the sail, and the outrigger surged forward.

‘But where to go? Qhawana? Is there another way through the reef?’

‘No. They have us trapped.’

‘Look,’ Maggie said.

Jupiter could just see where Maggie pointed. He had got used to the bright nights of Eoth under the uncanny light of the moon so the darkness now made him more wary. The first crew of blackbirders had now left the beach and the white of their paddling sparked in the phosphorescence as they raced to intercept.

Taking a direction away from both pursuers Jupiter aimed for the barrier islands, waters he knew. He also remembered the shallow patch in the lagoon.

If I can lead them aground. The tide is very low now. It might work.

The shallows loomed ahead clear of water. He turned hard to avoid running aground himself.

‘They’re gaining on us,’ Maggie cried.

‘Nezhnakhevo - blackbirders are very swift when their canoes and galleys are manned by their own crew,’ said Qhawana. ‘That canoe from the shore must hold only raiders. No slaves.’

The outrigger’s rudders hit something then. The outrigger turned as the tiller ripped free of Jupiter’s hand. But steadied again on a new course once Jupiter had hold of the steering again. He tacked and avoided a full grounding.

Jupiter searched for a way through the shallows. He had not known how large the shallows stretched. Sparks glimmered under the water where a school of fish scattered away through the shallows.

Then burst of light erupted off to port. Jupiter thought the blackbirders had caught them up. But the light faded to a glow that sped under the water.

'Just a school of startled fish,' Jupiter said.

Then a something erupted in a spray of sparks from the water close by. It soared a few meters then fell in a nova burst of light.

‘Moby!’ Maggie shouted.

The manta slowed, then came close. It rolled to the surface as if to take in their new craft. Breeze bounced in excitement and spun up the kheel.

Happy… Friend… Save us…

Moby peeled away through the depths. Jupiter followed his passage and saw the way out of the shallows. He pulled the sail in, and and they heeled over. The wind had stiffened.

‘Spin the kheel up Breeze.’

He slipped out onto the side of the outrigger platform as the windward outrigger float rose from the water until the kheel steadied them again.

The blackbirders had drawn close now and lay across their path. Jupiter tacked and found a burst of speed as he angled across the wind on a reach. Faster they sped with Moby close beside.

‘We're cut off, we can’t get out of the lagoon,' Qhawana said. 'The other blackbirder craft still blocks the entrance.’

‘Follow Moby,’ said Maggie. ‘He’s helping us.’

‘Bah. What foolishness is this?’ said Qhawana with a huff.

‘He’s like Pelorus Jack,' said Maggie. "The dolphin that led sailors through the Marlborough Sounds, through storms and fog.’

‘We've no better choice. But. I agree with Breeze. Moby might help us.’ Jupiter turned back to follow Moby, but he still remained wary of the shallows as their speed increased. The blackbirder’s cries sounded near. He looked behind. Their canoe remained in close pursuit but not able to match the speed of The Jupiter.

Moby broke the surface and dived again. Jupiter watched the sparks caused by his swimming that made the sea glow from a million tiny creatures. The manta headed for the barrier islands where Jupiter had first met Maggie. The outrigger sailed close behind, towards the islands. Their path led into the shallow gap that still wound between the coconut clad island atolls.

Then Jupiter realized. A glow on the horizon meant moonrise would soon come.

They rounded the end of one island and entered the shelving outer lagoon between the barrier island and the reef.

‘Of course,’ shouted Maggie. ‘That channel we saw Moby use when we gathered the egg things. He's is taking us out to sea through that secret channel.’

But as Jupiter rounded to head out into the channel he saw they would not make it.

'The wind comes from directly ahead,' Jupiter said. 'We can't sail down the channel into the wind.'

He turned the outrigger away just before they hit the jagged coral edge of the passage.

‘We must,' said Qhawana. 'Look.’

The blackbirders had rounded the end of the island and closed in on them.

Jupiter aimed the outrigger away from the blackbirders and headed for the other end of the barrier island where he knew the shallows ended. They sped away to safety but the blackbirders remained close behind.

‘We’ve got to go back. There’s no way out otherwise.’

‘I have an idea. We’re going to circle around.’

Jupiter rounded the end of the island and tacked back to complete their circuit. Moby flew into the air ahead of them and Jupiter aimed to follow once more. The light of the moon now shone across the lagoon as if day had dawned hours early. The wind had mounted and The Jupiter sailed flat and fast and very close to the island’s shore.

In a minute the outrigger rounded the end of the island, Jupiter twisted the rudders to gybe the sail across. As the wind caught the rear of the sail it whipped over. Breeze shrieked in alarm at the sudden movement and change in direction.

‘Spin the kheel up again.’

Qhawana moved to the kheel.

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‘No. Stay where you are. Breeze. As fast as you can.’

The old man stared in concern then amazement as the imp followed his captain’s orders.

In a fast reach The Jupiter ran back towards Moby’s secret passage. The manta jumped high from the water as if in challenge.

Then Jupiter saw. The blackbirders had not followed him in circling the island. They had turned back to the opening to cut them off.

Jupiter pulled the sail in tight and hauled on the sail adjustments to flatten the curve in the fabric. Wind whistled past his ears now as their speed mounted.

‘If I can just get enough speed going.’

But the blackbirders had reached the reef opening. White foamed either side of the black canoe as they straddled the opening.

Moby bounced from the air again, and Jupiter aimed for his splash as he landed.

Where's the opening?

He readied to turn away before he drove The Jupiter onto the reef. But the dark channel opened to starboard, Moby lay in a pool of glowing phosphorescent water at the end of the passage.

‘Spin hard Breeze.’ Jupiter pulled the sail in tight and twisted the tiller to bring the rudders around. They spun straight into the wind down Moby’s passage, one outrigger float in the water, then the main hull kissed, bounced, then skimmed the water surface.

In three seconds they reached the end of the passage, and the Jupiter’s sail filled. But the bow began to turn into the wind. The kheel had made them too light.

'Slow the kheel Breeze,' Jupiter shouted as they began to slew around out of control. ‘It’s spinning too fast.’

Then the hulls hit, and the water foamed all around with white to match the rollers breaking either side of them. A wave broke over the deck and they came close to a halt, but Jupiter found enough way on the outrigger to allow him to steer to catch the wind.

They had sailed through the almost breaking waves just missing jagged coral of the reef. Jupiter felt the lift of a true ocean roller and tightened the sail to keep them aimed into the waves.

Behind them a pod of mantas broke the surface in a burst of spray.

‘Did they?’ Maggie said.

‘I think they did. Somehow they fooled the Blackbirders. Faked the waves and foam into thinking they had reached the passage. Fooled me too. If Moby had not jumped.’

Jupiter laughed when he saw Qhawana’s astonished expression.

‘You always said that nuvra bring new things. I guess you’ve not seen that before.’

The old man just shook his head. Jupiter kept the rising moon to port as he rounded the barrier reef in a slow curve. When he had the moon at his back he aimed for the horizon. Maggie had the compass and directed them towards the North East. blackbirders would not stop them now.

The course had been set. Zenska.

The hull slapped the water as the wind increased and Jupiter’s thoughts turned to helming their small vessel. A spray of foam rose from the leeward outrigger as it skipped over the water. He grinned as they accelerated, the wind whipped his hair grown longer since his arrival on Eoth.

Two plumes from the rudders left wakes that boiled with a hiss. Then one rudder lifted clear as the main hull rose from of the water. Almost flying. Jupiter had learned to keep his enthusiasm to a minimum. Qhawana and Maggie were spooked by the speed. He found it exhilarating. But he had experienced this when sailing on catamarans and even once on a foiling R-Class at the Corsair Bay Yacht Club. But the speed meant, best of all, the trip across to Zenska would take next to no time.

‘Providing we don’t crash,’ he muttered.

‘What was that?’ said Maggie.

‘Check our heading. I’ll aim for the break in the reef the blackbirders used. Then we need to set the direction accurately. At this speed we could get off course before we know it.’

‘Then go slower.’

‘Sorry… what did you say?’

Maggie shook her head, but pulled the compass from an oilskin pouch.

Breeze crouched behind the kheel at Jupiter’s feet, while Maggie sat right in front. Qhawana scanned ahead, steadfast in the bow on lookout for danger. Jupiter knew though that collision would come from port or starboard and kept up his regular racing scan — from masthead wind indicator, to the leading edge of the sail — the luff, to the outrigger in the water then off to starboard, to the kheel, off to port, and then to the masthead again.

There was a balance between all these parameters that he had found hard to explain to the others. But he knew his attentiveness reduced their fears. And one reason the speed did not scare he knew he could do this. He really could. After sailing for long enough everything had become second nature to him — moving in and out of the boat, adjusting the tiller and rudder, reacting to the wind condition. The addition of the kheel was, if anything, a steadying factor that made managing the tilt of the boat easier. But the speed the steadiness allowed did amp up the danger of a crash.

‘We’ll just have to avoid a crash,’ he muttered.

Breeze whined then and Jupiter gave him a grin.

‘You heard that didn’t you? Don’t worry Breeze. We’re good.’

The smoother surface of the bigger rollers, unruffled by the trade winds, made it easy to angle up and down the shallow slopes of the moving mountains of water. Their height had been generated by storms hundreds of miles away, the wind had become steady and only changed as they rose up and down the rollers. Jupiter adjusted their heading across the rollers to compensate.

The speed of the outrigger also meant the wind angle changed little. And he could tell there would be little need to tack. They were heading north-north-east to Zenska, while the trade winds were coming from the east in the tropics. It would be a direct reach north. And fast.

There were times when the outrigger almost left the water when they crested the top of the rollers, but when that happened Breeze would slow the spin of the kheel. Most of the time they just needed to spin the kheel up once a minute or so with a quick slap to keep things on...

‘An even kheel,’ Jupiter said.

And he whooped as they crested a large wave and went airborne. The rudder still gripped the water though so he gave a slight turn, spilled wind, and the outrigger kissed the water surface once more.

But the sailing tired him. He had never had to maintain the same heading for so long. He now appreciated that when he had sailed long races in the past he had been tacking and turning from side to side the whole way. Now though his tiller and mainsheet hands were aching from the need to keep them always set in a single position. He already considered improvements — adding in a jamb cleat, or hitching point for the mainsheet. Even a way to ease the management of the tiller. But he would need the control still. He shrugged. The forces must have been at the limit of the strength for his old Starling equipment. He added in his regular scan a check of the stress points on the sail and mast. But everything seemed to hold up well.

He realized now that it had been foolhardy to take all of them out on the first sail outside the reef, let alone all the way north to Zenska. A 120 kilometer distance they had reckoned after discussions with Qhawana. That reckoning was based on a three day paddle time at three kilometers an hour, with breaks for meals and sleeping. None of Qhawana’s distance measures made any sense in translation so all this was a guess.

As to the speed they now made — Jupiter guessed the outrigger sailed at about 25 kilometers an hour. Fast for a sailing boat, but not so fast compared to driving a car. That meant they could make the trip within the day. The question was — could he last even that long? But they could not stop.

Hours passed. Maggie kept up her concentration on the compass — and her occasional gasp of fear as a wave piled on top of another to create a monster breaker that Jupiter had to steer around. There was never any boredom, just mounting agony and cramping. He sailed for a time cross-armed to change the stress on his muscles. It worked for a short time, but he needed more control.

Fear began to mount in him — not that The Jupiter could not handle the voyage, but that it was he who would let them down. He was the weak link. He crooked his foot into the angle where the rudder bar and tiller met and flapped his arm to bring circulation back.

‘You need to eat Jupiter,’ said Maggie. Qhawana had unwrapped some of the dried provisions and now Breeze took them from the old man. To Jupiter’s wonder Breeze scrambled up to him and held the food to his mouth for a bite. They sat there for a time, Breeze feeding Jupiter, the warm body of the Imp pressed against his wetsuit. He was grateful. With the Imp’s extra weight countering the heel of the outrigger he did not have to strain so much either. After the food was finished Breeze stayed next to him with hand-like feet gripped in the outrigger’s webbing. And Breeze kept his hand on Jupiter’s — almost as if he took some of the strain.

‘Thanks Breeze. You’re a good friend.’

The imp warbled with a series of soft burps and Jupiter knew then Breeze was frightened but trusting of him — almost a mirror of his own feelings. He knew their headlong rush was not dangerous as long as he kept to his course, but the merest twitch would cause them to spin into disaster. Except he would no more likely to do that than a car driver would steer into oncoming traffic.

He caught Maggie’s gaze and they shared a grin. Maggie wore the lifejacket over the Comsat Angels T-Shirt she had worn since they had met. The tableau struck him then, a moment as beautiful and magical as any, the pivot upon which his life turned. He threw his head back then and whooped it up louder than ever. Maggie and Breeze joined him a joyous shout to the elements.

Qhawana leaned over the side of the boat and threw up.

Breeze and Jupiter laughed. Maggie — she was busy washing sick from her arm.

‘Downwind Qhawana,’ Maggie said. “Aim downwind.’

Jupiter laughed even louder.

The high island of Zenska started as a smudge on the horizon. A dark blur under a pile of high white cloud. Maggie’s navigation had been good. Qhawana had said while there were many islands in this sea few had peaks so high. This had to be their destination.

The rollers had changed direction, perhaps deflected by the bulk of the island. This altered the dynamic of the sailing because rather than take the waves at an angle the direct path to the island meant heading straight on into the rollers.

As Jupiter tried to decide what to do a huge white and grey shape flickered through the wave in front of them. It loomed higher than The Jupiter then erupted from the roller in a soaring leap that doused them with spray.

Breeze clung tight to Jupiter and Maggie gasped while Qhawana’s prayers were torn away on the wind. The huge manta dove into the following wave and was gone as fast as it had arrived. But within a minute a pod of the huge flying creatures swooped down the slopes of the waves into the trough the outrigger sailed over. Jupiter, distracted then, had to adjust his steering as the outrigger raced up the next roller. Then, with no warning, the outrigger went airborne at the crest. Qhawana cried out in fear, and Maggie dived to slow the kheel.

’No. Leave it,’ yelled Jupiter. And he was right. The Jupiter glided, touched the slope of the wave, and with an increase in speed from their slight fall, took off again to kiss the crest of the next wave.

The shape of these rollers was flatter, longer, and the trough shallower. The direct angle of the waves meant that there were fine margins between wind, waves, and sail that balanced out. He almost didn’t need to steer — except he did. Using his body.

Like a hang glider. Sort of.

A manta shot out from behind and flew parallel with them. It was as if they were equals then. Jupiter was dizzy with excitement, and awe. His mind spun in connection with these creatures.

‘You showed me didn’t you?’ Jupiter said in wonder. ‘This flying trick. You knew. Somehow.’

The Jupiter skimmed above the water touching only at the crests before shooting off across to the next. And the pod bounced around them, above the waves more than in them. He saw the smaller mantas did not take to the air so well. Instead they crested the waves, flew between troughs, and dove back into the water again.

‘Almost flying,’ said Jupiter. He laughed, and angled the outrigger to take the next leap.

‘Peter…’ said Maggie, her voice quavered. ‘You have to slow down. We’ll crash.’

Jupiter took notice then. Breathed in deep and suddenly his senses were his own again. He adjusted the sailing angle, eased the mainsheet to spill some wind and they slowed to slice deeper into the sea until the rudder gripped and he could steer once more.

‘Now we can see the island we can sail to the conditions, not the compass angle,’ said Maggie. ‘Can you keep us on the water please? We’re not flying mantas after all.’

Jupiter wondered if that was true. It was as if, for that brief time, he had been something else. Next time, without the worry of passengers to keep safe…

I will really fly.