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jumped clear of the water as she spoke and then landed with a crash.

“Now this might be as good as sex!” He grimaced as their boat crashed into the sea.

“You’ve obviously lived a sheltered life.” Morweena pushed the throttle forward.

“We’ve had our first casualty,” David’s voice came over the line. “The Fanucci is lying dead in the water at the entrance to the bay. There’s smoke pouring out of the engine canopy. Looks like the end for the Italians.”

“One less to worry about,” Kane said through clenched teeth as he braced himself for another crash landing.

“Don’t get too cocky, there’s a long way to go.” Morweena opened the throttle and the hull sped into another spectacular jump.

The lead boats rounded the buoy at Faraglioni and began the last leg of the first lap. Kane followed the procession of powerboats rounding the buoy, leaping clear of the water as he turned sharply left. If this was how the boat was performing weighed down, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to be on board when she lightened up.

The race fell into a pattern with each boat holding its place as the laps progressed. There were five laps remaining when Kane noticed one of the lead catamarans dropping speed.

“Tadeka’s stopped,” David said. “I’ve no idea why. Doesn’t look like engine trouble.”

Kernow was in sixth place right on the shoulder of Tardelli’s crimson coloured Martini and about one hundred metres behind Lemay’s Gitanes. If they could only keep going like that.

The crowd on the edge of the cliffs overlooking the Piccolo Porto shouted encouragement as the boats wheeled past the starting point to begin the tenth lap. As soon as the final boat had passed, the sky blue coloured Fanucci was towed into the port. The first casualty of the European Championship.

The Penhalion boat raced towards the ruins of Pompei steadily closing the gap on Tardelli. Kane felt the adrenaline pounding in his veins as he willed the boat forward. Sweat was running down the back of his neck and on down the small of his back. Every muscle in his upper body and his legs was crying out in pain. The engines screamed as they drew level with and then passed Tardelli. They sped towards the second buoy and swung around it heading towards the entrance to the bay and the island of Ischia.

“The Japanese are on the move again,” David announced on the radio.

Kane smiled. He’d liked the urbane Tadeka and he was glad they were in the race again. As long as they were a half a lap behind.

Visibility was getting worse as the early evening wind began to roughen the water.

“I’ll have to drop speed if the water gets much worse.” Morweena eased the throttle as they took another spectacular leap.

“No,” Kane said firmly. “We go for broke.”

They turned the buoy at Ischia forty metres behind Lemay. Kane could see the light blue boat to his side and took the inside track as they sped towards the entrance to the bay. They listed as the waves struck the port side. The crew were being buffeted around like milk in a churn, first being pushed one way then being pulled instantly back. They bucked and leapt over the waves as they closed the gap on Lemay.

“You bloody fool!” Morweena shouted.

The two boats were now side by side. Each crew strained to get the maximum out of their boats as they approached the third buoy. Kane struggled with the wheel in order to keep his course. Slowly they began to inch ahead.

“We won’t make it,” Morweena said, “the buoy is up ahead.”

“Don’t pull back on the throttle.”

They had a lead of five metres over Lemay as they sped into the buoy at Faraglioni. Morweena dropped the throttle slightly as Kane whipped the wheel sharply to the left. They virtually flew around the corner, passing the buoy in the air and landing with a crash which shook their bones and sent a giant sheet of spray cascading over the boat. As soon as they touched down, Morweena increased the throttle and the boat powered forward. Kane felt every muscle in his arms strain as he wrestled with the wheel to steady the boat and hold it on course. They were in sixth place.

They had been at sea for one and a half hours and during that time their concentration had been absolute. The adrenaline coursing through his body had numbed the discomfort he had felt earlier. He had passed through the pain threshold.

The boat had become noticeably lighter and Morweena was constantly manipulating the flow of fuel from the tanks in order to maintain the trim and keep them on an even keel. Directly in front of them, one of the lead catamarans rose perpendicularly out of the water before crashing down into the waves, skewing to the right and then gradually righting itself. This was the period of the race when their boat’s unique design would prove itself. Up to this point, the virtual catamaran shape had succeeded in keeping them in the race against what were, at least on paper, faster boats. Now as the stability of the catamarans worsened, it remained to be seen whether the deep-V properties would be sufficient to keep them stable at speed.

“Doug Jackson’s out!” David’s excited voice came over the radio.

Kane strained to look ahead and saw that Jackson’s huge catamaran, a cloud of wispy white smoke billowing from the stern, had pulled off towards the shore. A helicopter buzzed overhead. Suddenly Kane felt the boat leap into the air and begin to skew. This was it. This was the moment every crew dreaded. Either they would come down right side up and continue the race or they would flip over and that would be the end. For a moment it was touch and go as the huge boat left the water and was suspended in mid-air. If ever there was a time to pray this was it. He wanted to look over at Morweena

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