Máncora

"Competitor number twelve: Perusina! Number thirteen: Perusino! And number fourteen... Franz?"

The man looked over his table.

Franz raised a paw. A tiny orange bodyboard lay under his belly.

"I'm competing in the fox class."

"There is no fox class."

"Then it's high time there was."

Spectators, surfers, and coaches crowded Máncora beach. Long waves rolled diagonally along the coast. In the team competition, each member had to round two buoys and then ride a wave back to the beach.

Perusina carried her longboard into the water. Perusino tucked his short board under his arm. Franz dragged his bodyboard behind him on a leash.

The horn sounded.

Perusino charged off, jumped over the first wave, and dived under the next. Perusina waited a moment longer. Then she used the break between two waves and paddled out.

Franz was already being washed backward onto the beach by the first breaking wave.

"Tactical restart!" he yelled, and ran back into the water.

At the first buoy, the three caught up with their opponents. Perusino caught a steep wave and shot along it. Perusina followed calmly. Franz lay sideways on his board, spun in a circle once, and crossed the scoring line tail first.

The spectators cheered.

"The famous Sechura fox style," Franz explained.

The three were in the lead when the sea changed.

A new set of waves rose on the horizon. The first wave tugged at the red turning buoy. On the second, the anchor line snapped. The buoy drifted out to the open sea.

Lía and Mateo from Team Máncora didn't notice. They paddled after the buoy.

"They're going the wrong way!" Perusina cried.

Between the breaking waves ran a dark, almost calm stripe. Foam and small leaves moved away from the beach within it.

"A rip current," Perusina said. "The water flows back into the sea there."

Lía and Mateo paddled against it with all their might. Still, they were pulled further and further out.

Perusino looked at the finish line. One good wave more, and they would have won.

Then he turned his board.

"The race can wait."

Perusino plunged into the next wave. Franz jumped onto Perusino's board and clung to his ankle. That lasted exactly three seconds. Then a wave lifted the tail.

Franz flew through the air and landed on the drifting buoy.

"Everything under control!" he shrieked, as he sped backward towards the open sea.

Perusina didn't paddle against the current. She headed sideways towards the breaking waves. A long wave lifted her board and carried her across the water to Lía and Mateo.

"Stay with your boards!" she yelled. "Paddle sideways! Not directly to the beach!"

Then the judge's boat engine roared and died. The snapped buoy line had wrapped around the propeller. The boat drifted towards black rocks.

Perusino reached Franz and grabbed the buoy. The line stretched beneath it.

"It leads to the boat!"

Franz bit into the knot. Perusino pulled. A wave lifted both of them high, flung them back down, and filled Franz's ears with water.

The knot came loose.

Perusino wrapped the free line around his board and paddled to the judge's boat. Franz held on to the end with his teeth and bounced over the waves like an orange cork.

Perusina brought Lía and Mateo out of the rip current. Together they reached the boat.

The rocks were terrifyingly close now.

"Ten more seconds until the next big wave!" Perusina called.

Perusino pulled the loose line from the propeller. Franz tugged with him. The boat driver started the engine.

Nothing.

The wave grew behind them.

"One more time!" Perusina screamed.

The engine started. The boat turned, took the four surfers alongside, and raced between two rocks. Behind them, the wave broke with a mighty crash.

On the beach, the race had long been over. But as the three got out of the boat, even the other teams applauded.

The competition director held up the winner's trophy.

"Today, the team that finished first doesn't win. Today, the team that read the sea and didn't forget the others wins."

Franz stood on his bodyboard.

"And could ride backward."

A small wave caught the board and threw him into the sand.

Perusino grinned. "The Sechura fox style again?"

Franz spat out a shell.

"Advanced technique."