The wind was dropping. The boom swung aft, and the mainsheet now and then caught the water and trailed in it.
“Sit on the lee side, Able-seaman,” said John. “That’ll keep the boom out.”
Nancy in Amazon was sitting on the lee side for the same reason.
“Hadn’t we better row?” said Roger.
“You want a motor boat,” said Captain John.
“No I don’t,” said Roger. “Sail is the thing.”
Slowly the fleet slipped past Wild Cat Island. The island was once more the uninhabited island that Titty had watched for so many days from the Peak of Darien. And yet, it was not that island. John, looking at it, remembered the harbour and the leading lights and his swim all round it, and the climbing of the great tree. For Roger it would always be the place where he had swum for the first time. For Susan it was the camp and housekeeping and cooking for a large family. Titty thought of it as Robinson Crusoe’s island. It was her island more than anyone’s because she had been alone on it. She remembered the path she had cleared, and waking in the dark, and hearing the owl. She remembered the dipper. She remembered getting Amazon out of the harbour. She looked suddenly across the lake to Cormorant Island, and then at Amazon slipping silently through the water a cable’s length away. Had she ever really been anchored in Amazon out there in the dark?
As they passed Houseboat Bay, Captain Flint rowed out to them to say goodbye once more.
“Goodbye,” they shouted.
“Till next year,” he shouted back, and rested on his oars and watched the fleet as it sailed slowly on towards the Peak of Darien.