"Hmm."

"What?"

"It's just... smaller than I expected."

"That's what she said."

"Omg, don't be that person."

"Sorry. This is a pretty standard size. How big were you expecting?"

I squinted. "I'm not sure. I guess as long as it gets the job done."

Rueben laughed. "I promise, smaller is better in this case – it'll get the job done faster."

The yacht bobbed up and down in front of us, gently sloshing. Bailey and Nev were already aboard, scrambling around in excitement with Mischa and Bella along the pale wooden decks. It was clearly a functional vessel; there were no hot tubs or fully stocked bars here. The sails were strapped firmly to the mast which towered over our heads, and ropes stretched everywhere. Twin helms stood proudly at the back of the deck, as big as pirate steering wheels but made of slender metal instead of thick wood. Everything was sleek and minimal. Zero aesthetics, not even a couch – just perching spots, also made of wood and built into the deck.

Noticing my unimpressed expression, Rueben said, "Less clutter on the desk means that better safety during wind and poor weather conditions."

"Okay, good."

"This is a million-dollar yacht, Karla."

"Seriously? For a million bucks, you reckon they would toss in a few deck chairs or couch cushions." I reached for the rail and placed a foot on the gunwale. The high tide meant the deck floated above the jetty, and I struggled to leverage myself aboard. "Can we steer it to Tassie with just the two of us?"

Rueben placed a firm hand at my lower back, anchoring me. "I'll have to show you the ropes, literally, but yes, this layout of the control lines, with the winches within easy reach of the helmsman and the self-tacking jib, allow easy and safe handling of the boat even with limited crew and over long-distance cruising."

I nodded and grunted, pulling myself up and onto the deck, enjoying the feel of Rueben's warm palm against my spine. "Are you geeking out a bit right now?"

With a grin, he said, "Does it show? The guy who owns this beauty, I work with him and he's been boasting about her- sorry, it, for months. I've been dying to take it out."

"He agreed to let you have it?"

"He was in South Africa when D-day happened. He doesn't have family here. I think he was just glad his baby wasn't going to end up being destroyed for firewood or rot away here in the dock. The Great Escape will have at least one more voyage."

From the deck, the yacht seemed slightly larger. I could walk for several meters from port to starboard (I knew one was right and one was left, but I kept forgetting which and at that stage I was too embarrassed to ask again) and it was a longer journey from the front to the back. Still, the square footage wasn't much bigger than four car spaces. That was fine when we were still at the dock, but I could imagine how claustrophobic it would feel once we were out on the sea.

I glanced over at Rueben, and busted him staring back at me. "What?"

"What?"

"What are you looking at?" I started patting my hair and face, trying to work out if I had a booger on my cheek or a bird poop somewhere unnoticed.

"Nothing. Just you." He cleared his throat, then swallowed heavily. "Karla, I need to tell you-"

"Holy crap, youse guys!" Nev's head poked up from the stairwell. "You have to see it down here!"

"Whatever it is, tell me at sea," I said to Rueben, smiling briefly at him before following Nev. I had months ahead with Rueben and his daughter; I had less than twenty-four hours left with Nev and Bailey.

As I picked my way down the stairs into the cabins, I whistled. "Now, this is more like it." The luxurious fittings that were missing from upstairs had clearly been saved up for the living spaces below deck. A shiny kitchen adorned one wall, a cushy couch area against the opposite side. Every surface was either light bamboo panelling or white furnishings, and sunshine poured in the many windows.

"I bags this room!" Mischa was bouncing up and down on one of two twin beds in a bedroom at the back. On the other side was an identical room with a double bed covered in white linen. At the front of the vessel was the master bedroom, with a queen-sized bed on a platform, slender windows and a cathedral-like ceiling. For once, I won't have to share with anyone, I told myself; if I had to be at sea, I needed as many wins as I could get.

Nev and Bailey were unstacking the supplies we'd brought with us into the cupboards. "Guys, you don't have to do that," I said, sliding into a swivelling stool at the counter. "You lot be land lubbers. Leave that for us sea-faring folk. Arrr."

Bailey smiled at my pirate voice. "Well, since you brought it up..." They looked at Nev, who nodded in encouragement. "We were wondering if you have room for two more?"

"Nevvie? You're coming?" Mischa's face lit up in a massive grin, and she crash tackled Nev. "I'm sooo happy!"

"Bailey, this is amazing!" I hugged my friend fiercely, then opened my arms for Nev.

Something in my stomach plunged. Nev was smiling but her eyes were filled with tears. "Are you okay?" I whispered as I squeezed her gently.

She nodded. "It's just hard leaving behind people you love."

I didn't try to offer her any platitudes about this being the right choice, because I couldn't honestly say that it was. It was the best choice for Bailey, but Nev was leaving behind a lot.

Rueben congratulated Nev and Bailey, then asked us all to sit down. "So, this yacht is pretty, but don't be fooled – what we're about to do is hazardous if we're not smart. I've calculated we'll be at sea for four nights before we reach harbour at Devonport. From there, we hug the coast westward and we'll find your brother's town, Preservation Bay."

Everyone listened in rapt silence. This was a whole new world; bikes were one thing, but the magnitude of navigating a sea was finally settling upon us. We were about to cross the Tasman with no GPS, no back up engine, relying solely on the wind to provide us passage. I wondered if a sacrifice to Poseidon was a viable option.

Rueben continued. "There's no GPS anymore, so we'll have to rely on the same methods of navigation as sailors used for hundreds of years."

"What kind of methods?" asked Bailey.

"There's a few. Ded reckoning is our most valuable tool. It's a method of navigating from a known position to another position, using the information available to you to deduce your approximate location."

"Huh?" said Nev.

"I use a compass and calculate how fast we're moving. This will let me keep track of where we are and where we're going."

Rueben rubbed Mish's hair. "I can't do this alone, so I'll need all hands on deck. If I ask you to do something, please don't ask why – just do it. The weather is our greatest enemy, but we'll also have to be really careful with open flames at night. Lots of shipwrecks were caused by fires back in the day, and modern ships normally don't allow any fire at all on board.

"Anytime you're above deck, you wear a lifejacket – that's not negotiable. Chookie and Bella need to stay below until we disembark because if they go overboard, they're gone. If you hear me yell 'boom coming across' at any time, duck or get out of the way – boom injuries are the second leading cause of death aboard yachts, either because of head injury or because people get swept overboard."

"What's the leading cause?" asked Bailey.

"Drowning. You'll also need to watch out for the winches and cleats. If you aren't careful, you can lose a finger or the skin from your whole palm." Rueben softened his expression, saying, "If we work together like we have the whole way here, we'll be fine."

"Okay," we all murmured, subdued by thoughts of burning and drowning and split skulls and amputated fingers.

Nev hugged Mish. "Don't worry, babes – Bailey will look after you, I promise."

Mischa rolled her eyes - an expression she'd picked up from me, I realised. "I've been on tons of sail boats. Dad says I'm a good sailor."

"Yes, you are," Rueben said, nudging his daughter with a wink. "You'll have to help me teach this lot what to do."

"Okay!"

"We'll head back to the unit now, pack up the rest of the gear and get some sleep."

As everyone headed above deck, Nev hung back, playing with the locks on the bedroom doors. I wandered over and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Just seeing what the lock situation is like."

I grinned; it was the first thing I'd checked as well. "They're good, I promise. You'll have plenty of privacy with Bailey. They even lock from the outside too – Rueben said it's so they can be prevented from swinging open during a storm."

"Huh." Nev gave the knob a rattle again, then turned to me and said too brightly, "Let's go."

As we disembarked, I said to Nev, "Do you want company while you say goodbye to your family?"

"No. Thanks." She pulled nervously at her hair, winding it around her wrist like a thick rope. "I'll meet you all back at your place a bit later. Hey, Rueben? Can I have a word please?"

Nev chatted softly with Rueben while we clomped along the jetty and back up to the street. I said to Bailey, "You must be stoked."

The smile on Bailey's face made them seem years younger, as if happiness had undone all the traumas of their past. "I wouldn't have gone without her, but yeah, having her come with me is like winning the lotto. I can't believe she's choosing me over her family."

"Me, either," I said honestly. Despite the conversation I'd overheard with her nonna, I wasn't convinced that Nev was really ready to ditch her fam and follow us across a sea with little hope of return passage in the near future. Just as I'd worried about Bailey becoming resentful if they stayed, I had a real fear that Nev would feel the same way about going. I hoped I was wrong.

It was dusk by the time we made it back to the unit. I wasn't thinking of it as Dean's place anymore; it was just a temporary refuge, a final port before we voyaged off into wild blue. As I pushed open the side gate, I felt every hair on my body rise in premonition. "There's someone inside," I murmured to Rueben and Bailey.

"What?"

"There's candles lit. We didn't leave any burning." Swiftly, I unlocked the door while reaching for the gun from my backpack.

"No weapons!" said Bailey.

I ignored them, pushing through the door and charging for the kitchen. "Whoever you are, get the hell out of here!" I said, deepening my voice.

The tiny woman sitting at the kitchen counter leapt to her feet. "Whoever I am? Who the hell are you people?"

"We have permission to stay here from Dean," I retorted, adding for good measure, "I'm Dean's girlfriend." Well, I was going to be before I'd decided that he wasn't worthy of me, but this chick didn't need to know that.

"No, you're not," said the strange woman, eyes blazing. She was well-spoken and well-dressed, and at five-foot-nothing didn't appear to be a threat, but she clearly had no idea what she was talking about.

"Yes, I am. Dean is with my family in Tasmania, and I'm on my way to join him. We dated for years, and now we're getting back together."

"No, you're not," she said again with scorn.

I couldn't believe after the week I'd had, I was having to argue with a crazy person in my kitchen. I lowered my gun and said, "I'm sorry, who the hell are you to know?"

She drew herself up, folding skinny armsresolutely across her flat chest. "Uh, Ithink I'm qualified to call bullshit – because I'm Dean's girlfriend."