Mike Dixon

He came close to the chain but not close enough. The
chain tightened and the anchor shot away in a cloud of bubbles.
It wasn‟t difficult to work out what was happening. The
cat was towing the inflatable and the anchor was being
dragged along. His chance of catching it had fallen to zero.
Then a surprising thing happened. The chain went slack
and a shape appeared in the water. Whoever had been pull-
ing in the anchor had fallen overboard. The anchor drifted
down and Tim grabbed it. Moments later, the chain tight-
ened and he was dragged along … forwards and upwards.
His head broke surface and he was treated to a familiar
sight. The rear end of Baseball Cap was bouncing along in
the waves. The slob had fallen out of the inflatable and was
struggling to get back. Footsie‟s maniacal laughter sounded
above the din. The ugly man had discarded his wig and
stood bald-headed at the controls – waving a handgun. He
opened up the engines when he saw Tim.
Tim rose up and the top part of his body came clear of
the water. Footsie leered and Tim leered back. It was like a
replay of their confrontation in the pub. Tim knew Footsie‟s
sort. The guy was a psychopath. You only had to trigger his
neurosis and you had him beaten. He held onto the chain
with one hand and gestured with the other - thrusting his
speargun in the air.
„Cock sucker!‟
He jabbed away and Footsie took his hands off the con-
trols to return the insult.
„Mother fucker!‟
Tim was still yelling when Footsie lost control and the
catamaran ploughed up onto the reef flat. The ugly man
cannoned forward. The engines revved wildly and the cat
vanished in a cloud of spray. Tim sank back into the water
and waited for David.
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