Page 68 of Untamed Coast

Marco was finding his rhythm.

The wind meter passed forty knots.

My body’s getting too old for this.

Marco climbed back into the helm chair and settled in for the long fight. He had the throttle in the perfect sweet spot.

Marco was tempted to engage the autopilot and run downstairs to see what was broken, but he knew that could wait. Right now, he needed to drive the boat. He scanned his instruments—oil pressure normal, wind now twenty-five knots gusting to…forty-something, engine temperature 199…Wait, 199?

Way too hot.

Marco checked the rest of the gauge readings. All okay. Engine temp should be 162, or no more than 170. He’d throttled up quite a bit past his normal cruise RPMs—maybe that was it?

He backed the throttle down to the regular cruising speed.

201…202…

Crap! Still climbing.

Radio Flyer started to pitch harder into the oncoming wind waves at the reduced speed.

Must be seven feet at least.

Marco brought the throttle way back, to just above idle. He grabbed his orange survival life vest from the hook behind him and struggled with getting one arm through while steering with the other. He tugged at the zipper on the vest and accidentally bumped the Man Overboard button on the emergency transmitter strapped to the front. The unit let out a loud squeal. Marco hit the Cancel button.

Not ready for that just yet.

200…199…

The engine temperature was stabilizing. It meant the cooling system was at least partially working. But he couldn’t properly control the boat at this low speed. The waves would toss Radio Flyer around like a cork.

The GPS speed indicator showed between three and four knots. At that rate, it would be eight more hours in this mess, and no guarantee the engine wouldn’t overheat and destroy itself in the meantime.

Most likely, something was wrong with the raw-water cooling system that circulated seawater in and used it to cool the engine. Probably debris had been sucked into the intake thru-hull and was partially blocking the flow, or maybe his raw-water pump impeller had failed, and it wasn’t pumping at full volume.

Marco checked the gear strapped to his survival vest—handheld VHF and PLB batteries looked full. The survival pack was secure in its pocket. He realized none of that would be worth much if he had to spend any amount of time in the frigid water. Hypothermia would likely get him before he could be rescued.

If Marco wasn’t single-handing, if he had a crew, one of them could have checked the cooling system in the engine room while the other stayed at the helm and kept the boat straight. That was not an option. He had to remain at the helm and steer. He didn’t dare trust the autopilot to keep the boat safe in this mess. He resolved, for now, to keep driving the boat and watch the temperatures to be sure the engine didn’t overheat and shut down or destroy itself.

I can’t do that for eight hours.

Marco decided to change his destination to Funter Bay. It was much closer, and the first viable place he could duck in and find protection from the wind and waves. He reached to change his route on the chartplotter and couldn’t even operate the touch screen accurately with the violent pitching into the waves. After a couple tries, he gave up on changing the route. He could find the turn into the bay easily enough without plotting a course.

Wind calming a little—twenty-eight knots. Temperature settling at 197…196…Good.

A steep wave knocked the boat sideways again. Marco gunned the throttle and steered back on course. Temperature 201…202…Throttle back. 202…202…201…

Smoke.

Stronger now. Definitely smoke.

Marco’s breath left him. He checked the Maretron panel—engine room temperature was slightly warmer than normal, but the engine was overheating. The Fireboy suppression system had not triggered. Nothing from the engine-room smoke detector.

He dared another breath. Smoke for sure. He moved his head around, trying to—

Huge wave. He’d lost his focus. Marco gunned the throttle and spun the wheel. Radio Flyer fell back into her groove. Engine temperature 202…203…throttle back.

Marco had to trust the autopilot and find out where the smoke was coming from. If there was a fire, he likely had only seconds to manage it before things got out of control. He pulled the throttle back as far as he dared and engaged the autopilot. It seemed to be keeping up just okay, responding a little too slowly to the waves but keeping the boat basically on course.