"E.Voiskunsky, I.Lukodyanov. The Crew Of The Mekong (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

Opratin's."
"Yes, I did."
"See anything interesting?"
"Not particularly. I think they're setting up a big electrostatic
installation."
"Electrostatic, you say?" Privalov looked thoughtful.
Yura sprang to his feet. "A wind! A wind's coming up!"
A light southerly sea breeze ruffled the surface of the bay and rustled
in the trees along Seaside Boulevard. The flag of the Chief Judge fluttered
tautly.
A ship's bell tinkled. The class M flag was run up.
"The centreboard boats are getting ready," Yura said excitedly. "If it
blows a little stronger the keel boats can follow suit. Let's go."
After the centreboards the Star class boats started off. There was
enough wind for these small, light boats which carried a great deal of sail.
The wind freshened, and half an hour later boats of the L-4 class were
announced. Soon the steady ringing of a ship's bell informed the competitors
that five minutes were left before the start.
Ah, those last five minutes! What a tricky business it was getting as
close to the starting line as possible within those five minutes, but not
crossing it ahead of time!
Four rings of the bell meant four minutes were left, then three, two,
and one. Finally, a quick ringing of the bell gave the signal for the start.
Beating against the wind, the boats entered the first lap of the
fifteen-mile course.
Wind filled the sails as the sheet, held in strong hands, quivered; the
sea whispered to the boats sliding through it; the sun bathed everything in
gold against the blue of the sea.
The Mekong was among the first to round the mark. Following an
advantageous course, it approached its closest rival on a parallel course
windward, but the other boat did not let the Mekong overtake it. In the
excitement both crews forgot about the other competitors. When the Mekong
finally forged ahead, the crews discovered that almost all the other boats
had overtaken both of them, were rounding the second buoy and were raising
their spinnakers, the big triangular sails used when running before the
wind.
Yura, who was sitting on the deck, raised himself on one knee.
"Obstacle ahead!" he shouted. "Two boats lying at anchor!"
When the Mekong came closer they saw a man in a straw hat sitting in
one of the boats. They could hear the motor running, but the boat was not
moving.
The second boat, some distance away, was empty.
"Ahoy there!" Yura shouted, leaning over the side. "Watch out!"
Just then the wind died down, prompting the thought that Nature is
sometimes actively hostile to man. Why else should the wind die down at noon
on a Sunday just when a regatta is at its height?
The sails flapped several times and then hung limp. The Mekong
continued to move forward a short distance by inertia before coming to a
full stop about half a cable length from the motor-boat.
"Well, all we can do now is sunbathe. What a race!" said Yura in