Catch the Wind: My Journey with Caroline

Still catching her breath, Caroline asks Mr. Tate whether they can really borrow the skiff, bouncing on her toes as she thanks him and swears they’ll be careful. He laughs and sends two men off to haul the skiff, named Sparrow, out of its shed.

Ten minutes later, I’m on the shipyard dock staring down at a boat barely bigger than a rowboat. My stomach already sloshes at the sight of it. I ask Caroline whether something this small can possibly be safe out on the water.

Almost offended, she insists there’s no finer boat on the lake. Papa built it himself and taught her to sail it. But she’s still just a kid, and there isn’t a single life jacket anywhere on the dock. Mom would ground me for life over sailing without one. Much as disappointing Caroline again makes me cringe, I know I have to say something.

But before I can get the words out, someone shouts Caroline’s name and footsteps come pounding down the dock. A teenage boy sprints toward us, out of breath and clearly relieved he made it in time. The way Caroline’s face lights up tells me they’ve been friends for years. Still gasping for air, he explains that men northeast of here are planning a raid on the British fort at Pine Island, and there’s no time left to waste. He asks if Caroline can take him.

Without hesitating, Caroline promises they’ll bring him along and yanks my arm toward the skiff. A long dress makes the ladder nearly impossible to climb down, but I don’t have a choice. The little boat rocks under me, and I drop hard onto a plank seat.

Settling onto another seat, the boy grabs the oars and starts rowing us through the harbor while introducing himself as Seth. My own introduction comes out shakier than I’d like. Caroline adds that he’s the local mail walker, and that they’ve been friends forever.

Sailing an ocean-sized lake in a boat barely bigger than a bathtub already sounds like a bad idea, I admit. Seth misunderstands, thinking I mean the raid itself, and reassures me that Captain Miller planned the whole thing. We only need to drop him near Miller’s place. He’ll walk home after. Caroline chimes in, wishing aloud that she could see a British soldier taken prisoner, and my stomach sinks even lower.

Caroline tells Seth to keep the oars steady as she raises the sail, and my heart takes off racing. Getting over my fear of open water already felt like plenty for one day. Sailing toward an actual raid on a fort feels like something else entirely.

One part of me argues that watching out for Caroline is exactly why I came back to 1812, and that means helping the Americans win this war. Her papa sits in a British prison right now, and if Seth’s news really is a chance to fight for his freedom, turning back would crush her.

But another part of me, scared and thoroughly modern, insists that being responsible means holding onto everything Mom and Dad have taught me. That means telling Caroline and Seth that I won’t sail toward a raid.