The Double-Cross in Paradise; Episode 5, Happy Deckhands

This is episode five of my latest novel in The Trace Troy Adventure series. It is titled The Double-Cross in Paradise. It is not yet available in paperback or digital format. 

  The first title for this book was The Deception in Paradise. There are a couple of other books bearing that same title. Double-Cross really fits the book's theme better. 

   As soon as it is available on Amazon, I'll let everyone know. In the meantime, it will be serialized and scheduled for 50 episodes. I'm sure you'll enjoy.

Happy Deckhands

After Paul and Tom finished the cleanup of the passengers’ cabins, Paul eagerly returned to the pilothouse. Trace sat at the chart desk, hovering over the book about Vanuatu. 

Trace lifted his head from the book, hearing Paul at the top of the companionway. 

“All done, Cap,” Paul said buoyantly. “Tom is doing the hallway, and I’m going to take care of the front companionway.”

“Great,” Trace said, “I was going to have you do them sometime, but I’m glad you two are taking the initiative. And it’s good that you told me. Those things can slip my mind. If you don’t tell me, I’ll assume they are being done, and it’s not good to assume.”

“Sure thing, Cap,” Paul bobbed his head agreeably. “Yeah, I guess that’s important. I’ll pass that on to Tom, unless you want to tell him yourself.”

“Have a seat?” Trace said.

“Is something wrong?” Paul’s enthusiasm changed to sober wonder.

“No,” Trace said, “just have a seat.”

“Where?” Paul looked around at the options.

“Bench, chair,” Trace said, holding out his two palms as if weighing the choices in his hands. “Wherever you feel comfortable.”

He sat on the edge of the bench.

“How are you doing?” Trace asked.

“You mean on the boat?” Paul said.

Trace bobbed his head and faintly smiled. He resisted speaking sarcastically. “Yeah, how are you liking the work, getting along with the crew, you know, that sort of thing?”

“My first two weeks, I was ready to quit,” Paul said. “Tom wouldn’t let me, and Sage never gave up on me. I like it.”

“I’m glad you do.”

“This sounds to me like it’s leading up to someone being fired,” Paul said.

“Oh, no,” Trace assured. “It’s nothing of the kind. I apologize. It did sound like it. I wanted to know how things were going for you. When I got this ship, it came with two experienced deckhands. They took Sage under wing and showed him the ropes. But me and Sage have known each other all our lives. We were indoctrinated to work hard at an early age. My dad and Sage’s dad came on for a few months, and they’re of the mindset, blisters and sweat are the only way to prove you worked.”

“I mowed the lawn and took out the trash,” Paul smiled.

“I wanted you up here to tell you that you’ve been doing a great job. You work hard and never complain.”

“I’ve heard if you complain on a ship, you get forty lashes,” Paul joked.

“That forty lashes stuff went out a long time ago,” Trace said. “We only do about twenty.”

“I’m still not complaining,” Paul said.

Trace cupped his hands around his mouth. “Sage, put away the whip.”

They laughed.

“That’s what I like about working on The Tramp Islander,” Paul said, “Everyone gets along and it’s okay to crack a joke. Humor was frowned upon on Flint Island.”

“Strange,” Trace said, “because the whole place was a joke.”

“Not to me,” Paul said. 

“Sorry,” Trace said, “a poor selection of words.”

“No,” Paul said, “I get it. It is funny to look back on it, but not at the time.”

“Below, in the salon, is a book, Principles Of Navigation. I’d like for you and Tom to start reading it. Tomorrow I’m going to start showing you both how to drive this thing.”

“I already know how to drive a stick,” Paul said.

Trace grinned. “You’re catching on.” 

“And it feels good,” Paul relaxed.

“Here’s something I wanted to go over with you,” Trace scooted forward in his chair to get closer to Paul. “Four college students will be going with us to Vanuatu—one way, two guys, two girls.”

“And you expect them to act like college students?” Paul leaned forward for the answer.

“I do,” Trace said, “I don’t expect anything other than young and dumb. However, this is a cargo sailing vessel, not a Carnival Cruise ship. There are safety concerns, and our crew is not made up of hostesses.”

“You have rules for us, right?” Paul said.

“Yes,” Trace said. “Remember, you don’t initiate interaction with passengers, be polite. And you are not stewards. They don’t tell you what to do, and you don’t do anything for them that they can’t do. If they ask you to do something for them, tell them to clear it with the captain first and go about your business. Even if that business is looking at the waves. I will make that clear with them when they arrive.”

“We will eat at different times. If they strike up a casual conversation, be polite. Don’t reveal too much personal information. Passengers of a ship can divide the crew in hours. Don’t allow them to say anything negative about another member of the crew. If they do, bring it to me. I will handle it immediately. When they come aboard, I will introduce you and go over the rules while you’re there. If they break any of them, let me know.”

Paul nodded as he allowed the information to settle in his thoughts.

“I never thought about this,” Trace said, “but it sounds a lot like what you came from.”

“Not really,” Paul said. “The purpose here is clear. Ships have to be kept safe. All we were protecting back on Flint Island was the power and position of a psychopath.”

“Have you read Moby Dick?” Trace asked.

“I read it when I was in the eighth grade,” Paul said.

“Other than not having a wooden leg, do I remind you of Captain Ahab?” Trace asked.

“Actually, it was whalebone,” Paul said. “And to answer your question, I see you as more of a Wolf Larsen type.”

“Ahh,” Trace feigned a pleasing smile, “exactly what I was going for.”

Trace slapped Paul playfully on the knee. “Go get Tom and send him up.”

A moment later, Tom trudged up the companionway. His countenance looked like melted wax. 

Trace, at first, looked concerned but broke out in laughter. Tom’s melted face turned to a confused look.

“Paul told you, you guys were fired, didn’t he?” Trace said.

“Yeah,” Tom said.

Tom closed his eyes and dropped his head. “He'd better watch his back.”

“I think you two have a lot of pent-up fun inside you,” Trace grinned. “I only want to go over a few things with you and tell ya, you've been doing a great job.”

The Double-Cross In Paradise; Episode 4, Maturing Paul and Tom

  This is episode four of my latest novel in The Trace Troy Adventure series. It is titled The Double-Cross in Paradise. It is not yet available in paperback or digital format. 

  The first title for this book was The Deception in Paradise. There are a couple of other books bearing that same title. Double-Cross really fits the book's theme better. 

   As soon as it is available on Amazon, I'll let everyone know. In the meantime, it will be serialized and scheduled for 50 episodes. I'm sure you'll enjoy.

Maturing Paul and Tom

A week passed. Allie found enough cargo for Trace to sail The Tramp Islander to Port Vila, Vanuatu. 

Trace relaxed at the chart desk, studying a chart to Port Vila. The ship-to-shore phone rang. “Troy.”

“Troy, this is Allie.”

“Hi, Allie, we can’t take on any more cargo unless it’s hauled topside.”

“When are you shoving off?”

“Tomorrow, early.”

“I got four passengers for you.”

“Sure,” Trace said, “get ‘em over here.”

“It’s four college kids, looking for a South Seas experience, two guys and two girls.”

“Has their check cleared?”

“Cash.”

“They have to check in before six and if they are to have supper with us. I have to know as soon as possible.”

“I’ll let them know.”

“Is that it?”

“That’s all I have.”

“Thanks, Allie,” Trace leaned to hang up. “I guess I won’t see you in a couple of months.”

“Nope,” Allie said. “Take care, Captain.”

“Aye, aye, admiral.” Trace hung up.

Trace hailed Paul and Tom to the pilothouse. Paul entered from the aft door and Tom from the companionway.

“We have four college kids coming aboard as passengers,” Trace said, “two guys, two gals. Go below and make sure four of the passenger cabins are clean. You know where the polish is. Those rooms need a good going-over.”

“Right away,” Paul said eagerly.

Paul and Tom hustled down the companionway.

Trace grinned and thought, ‘Was I ever that eager when I first signed on? Do I remind others of Captain Ahab? How could I? I don’t even have a wooden leg.”

Trace grabbed the mic, and before he spoke, Makani appeared from the companionway.

“I hear,” Makani said. “Four passengers. Plenty food. No problem.”

“Why did you come up?” Trace asked.

“You no like long talk over mic.”

“Okay,” Trace agreed. “Four college kids, I’m worried. Keep the beer under lock and key. This will not be a party cruise. I hope they know that. Anyway, don’t let them boss you around or speak down to you.”

“No worry,” Makani said, and tilted his head for permission to return below.

“Sure, go ahead,” Trace said.

Trace picked up a book that lay on the desk about Vanuatu and its islands. Only a third of it had been read, and he wanted to know more about the islands. 

After a few pages, Sage came on board and into the pilothouse. 

“I heard,” Sage said. 

“How’d you hear?”

“I saw Allie walking out of a drugstore; corn pads.”

“I already went over some things with Paul and Tom. Makani…”

“Sage interrupted, … had to be told nothing.”

“Maybe I should have him greet the passengers and go over the rules,” Trace mused.

“What are you expecting?” Sage asked.

“College kids, summer break, full of themselves, and entitled.”

“Sounds like a rude awakening is in store for them,” Trace said.

“Well, we know what it’s like to be that age,” Sage added.

“Yeah,” Trace grinned, “likely we listen to the same music.”

“Hey,” Sage said, “we ain’t that old. We only got Paul and Tom beat by a year or two.”

“That reminds me,” Trace said, “in some subtle way, we've got to toughen those two up. They don’t act like hands, they’re acting like cult members trying to keep their leader happy.”

“I get it,” Sage said. “They’re like a dog wagging its tail and waiting for ya to toss a stick.”

“I sent them below to spit and polish the passengers' cabins, and I thought they were going to fall over each other going down the companionway.”

“Do you remember how we were on our first cattle drive?” Sage said.

“We were twelve,” Trace reminded. He paused for a thought. “And maybe those guys were treated like twelve-year-olds on the island.”

“We have to figure out how to kick-start their upward development to maturity,” Sage said. “That comes from a self-help book in our ship’s library.”

“Who bought that crap?” Trace said.

“That was in a bundle you bought about six months ago,” Sage said.

“Oh, that’s right,” Trace joked, “I had you in mind.”

“It’s all earmarked,” Sage continued the joke. “I think I saw Dad reading it.”

“You’re missing him, aren’t you?” Trace said. 

“Wasn’t that all the kick of our lives?” Sage said. “Our dads working for us.”

“So they let us think,” Trace said. 

“What about you,” Sage said, “ya missin’ him?”

“Yeah, but he has Talei now,” Trace said. “That makes it easier. Two people missing each other, one feeds the other, but when you know the other is cared for, it’s different.”

“I don’t want to make it as if I’m getting soft and sentimental,” Sage said, “but Paul and Tom, who have they got to miss? What kind of background do they come from? Paul came here because his dad probably made him think he was finally pleasing his father. And Tom, that guy has nothin’, not even a bad father like Waldo Franks. At least if he had somebody like him, he coulduv learned to deal from the bottom of the deck and how to palm dice in a crooked game of craps.”

Trace stared seriously into Sage’s eyes. “This is something we didn’t ask for, but it is something we took on. We have to teach those two how to be men.”

“And what a row to hoe,” Sage said soberly, “we’re barely older than them.”

The Double-Cross in Paradise; Episode 3, A Visit With Waldo Franks

  This is episode three of my latest novel in The Trace Troy Adventure series. It is titled The Double-Cross in Paradise. It is not yet available in paperback or digital format. 

  The first title for this book was The Deception in Paradise. There are a couple of other books bearing that same title. Double-Cross really fits the book's theme better. 

   As soon as it is available on Amazon, I'll let everyone know. In the meantime, it will be serialized and scheduled for 50 episodes. I'm sure you'll enjoy.

A Visit With Waldo Franks

A couple of days passed. Trace took a cab to the prison where Waldo Franks was incarcerated. He waited in the empty waiting room for ten minutes. Franks walked in, escorted by two guards. The guards stood at the door.

“Thank you for what you did and for coming,” Franks said.

“I’m glad things turned out the way they did,” Trace said.

“Did my son get in touch with you?” Franks asked.

“He worked the deck on the way back from Pago Pago.”

“How did he do?”

“Awkward, blistered, sunburned—he’s fine,” Trace smiled.

“How did it go when he came here to see you?”

“Awkward,” Franks said.”It got better each time he came. He was here yesterday. He told me all about sailing.”

“Once he gets the hang of working on the deck and the sails, I’ll show him how to sail it.”

Franks held his head down and looked up at Trace. “It is strange, I get the impression he pities me. It bothered me. And I took a look in the mirror. I mean that literally. I looked a long time. I am one to be pitied. I substituted money, influence, and fame for maybe the only thing I’ve really loved, my wife and son. When she left, I thought she would be easy to replace; bright lights, stacks of money, clothes, expensive cars, a villa, and more. It was all wrapped around me to protect me from the pain I ignored.”

“Sometimes we pass on the goodness that we never knew we had,” Trace said. “Your son is a good man. I like him. Sage, my first mate, likes him. And most importantly, my cook likes him—and that’s a tough one.”

“It’s his mother,” Franks said. “She was such a good person. Too good for me, really. The best thing she ever did for Paul and her was to take off like she did.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Trace said.

“Do!” Franks grinned. “You might have saved my son’s life. At the very least, his future happiness. I’m in your debt. Speaking of which, I suppose you want some more money.”

“Actually, the thought never crossed my mind.”

“Cally got paid,” Franks said. “What do I owe?”

“What you paid to start with was enough,” Trace said. “I wouldn’t feel right about taking another dime.”

“What about the others?” Franks asked. 

“They’ve been paid out of what you already gave,” Trace said.  “There wasn’t anybody who said a word about more money.”

“Think about it, won’t you?” Franks said.

“I’ll give it some thought,” Trace said to assuage Franks. 

“So, what’s next for you?” Franks said. “Where will you be taking my son?”

“I don’t know yet. I told Allie to give us a week before she starts gathering freight for us.”

Franks leaned back in his chair. He made a couple of expressions indicating he might be puzzled.

“What is it?” Trace asked.

“My son was an intern for some tech company. He solved some really big problems for them and never considered for a moment what it was worth to the company, and what he should be paid for the problems he solved.”

“Interns don’t usually get paid for work,” Trace offered.

“But they should get paid for inventing or discovering,” Franks seemed to plead.

“Well,” Trace said, “next time he’ll keep it to himself and come back in six months as a consultant, that’s where the real money is.”

“Now you're thinking right. That’s the way I’d do it. But here’s what I’m really getting at. How do you do something for nothing? It doesn’t make sense. You don’t want another dime for what you did. You should be trying to bleed me, for all I’m worth; you know, it’s politely called negotiations.”

“You mean something like Demeter was doing?” Trace said. 

Franks turned his head away for a moment and then back to Trace. “I have to think about that.”

“Yeah, think about it.”

“Running a casino is all legal,” Franks said.

“Then what are you doing in jail?”

“That was all my sideline,” Franks said.

“So that made you a fine upstanding member of society?” Trace asked. 

“I kept that sort of activity away from the real crooks,” Franks said. “Lowlifes who have no regard. They just waste their money on another vice. No good to the community is ever served.”

“So you paid taxes on all your illegal gains?” Trace said.

“Not a chance,” Franks said. “I hid them in my casino; they paid taxes.”

“How many bank accounts did some of your illegal gains go through before being laundered?” Trace asked. 

“This is a useless exchange,” Franks said. “You will never understand me, and I will never understand you.”

“If you say it is,” Trace said.

“But I want to,” again, Franks seemed to plead.

“Maybe you never will,” Trace said.

“I’m irredeemable?” Franks questioned. “Is that what you are saying?”

“Maybe,” Trace said.

“But you didn’t turn down any of my dirty money,” Franks said.

“Yep,” Trace said. “And maybe that’s why I don’t want any more.”

Franks ran his finger through his hair. He pondered what Trace said. “Thanks for visiting.” 

He stood, and the guards came and got him.

“Take care, Mr. Franks,” Trace said.

The guards escorted Franks back to his cell. 

Trace returned to The Tramp Islander.