SEVENTEENI WOKE UP at sea, much more seasick than the wave-cutting motion of the Adventure II could explain. I recognized the Adventure II from the deck awnings overhead.
The sun hurt my eyes. It was now well down toward the horizon, glaring in under the awning. I sat up and looked the other way and uncertainly made out the thin pencil line of distant land. I could have swum one-tenth that far, given a month in which to train for the ordeal—and if I didn’t ache all over, my head especially, and wasn’t weighed down by a salt-water-soaked imported Italian pure silk that seemed at least a ton.
“Have a drink?” Del’s voice asked.
He occupied the built-in observation chair at the stem and swiveled my way; negligently holding a long, tall glass in his hand.
“Perhaps some coffee from the galle
