For a second, John just stared. Then instinct kicked in. He helped her to the bench. “Okay. You’re alright. We’re heading back.” He started the engine and eased the throttle forward. The yacht moved, then jerked.
Catherine grabbed the railing, breathing slowly. “They’re not strong yet,” she said, “but they’re coming.” John checked the depth gauge—shallow. The tide was going out. He pushed the throttle again. A grinding noise echoed up through the hull.