Lorcan - Wolf Island - Day before The Summit
After two hours at sea, our ship comes to the Maelstrom of the Archipelago—a large pool of whirling current set equally between all the Islands. If appropriately navigated, it will quicken our trip home. The whooshing of the water drowns out all else, even the winds. This dilemma requires us to use the Pack Link to communicate directions to each other.
‘All hands, sails up, we coast in slow,’ I say through the link as the men scurry about the deck, preparing for the transition.
The sound of the Maelstrom muffles their movements and hard work. The ocean flows over the hull and onto the deck while the waves carry us in. I firmly hold the helm and steer the boat into the current.
‘Steady, steady,’ I warn, waiting for a suitable break in the
