The Double-Cross In Paradise,vEpisode 45, Kaboom!

This is episode forty-five in the sixth novel of The Troy Adventure Series. It is titled The Double-Cross in Paradise. Here are the links to  The Double-Cross In Paradise: paperback, Kindle. 

Kaboom!

Trace turned to Sage. “Go below and get Kelsey and have Makani guard Franks and Paul.”

Trace flashed his spotlight on the trawler. He grabbed the mic. “Who are you?”

“We’re here for Franks and our cargo.”

“We have Franks. But he’ll tell you we don’t have the cargo. It’s back in Port Vila.”

“Drop your sails!”

“My crew is below. Give us time.” Trace replied

“Hurry it up. You don’t want us to bring your boat to a stop our way, do you?”

“Understood.”

“We’re cooperating,” Trace said.

Sage and Trace hurried out of the forward companionway and lowered the sails. 

Sage returned to the pilothouse and slipped into the captain’s seat. Trace grabbed the explosive device. He hustled down the companionway, through the quarters, and forward to where the scuba gear was stored. He quickly and methodically climbed into the gear. He checked the device to make sure everything was there.

Sage sat in the captain’s chair. His eyes were forward, watching for Trace to lift the forward hatch and slip overboard on The Tramp Islander’s starboard side. He grabbed the mic. “Okay, what do we do now?”

“Lower a life raft over the side and send Franks over.”

“What about his son?” Sage said.

“Whose son?”

“Franks’s,” Trace said. “His son is below with him.”

There was a pause, and during it, Sage caught sight of Trace lowering himself over the starboard side of The Tramp Islander.

Trace swam beneath the hull of The Tramp Island, clutching the peculiar-looking explosive device and the wires that went with it. And then he swam toward the light from the trawler that danced against the surface of the water above him. 

“Hey,” Sage called threw the mic, “you don’t suppose you could hurry it up over there.” He smiled and said to himself. “I love messin’ with folks who think they’re in control and have it all figured out. Little do they know.”

Sage tapped his finger on the top of the control panel.

“This ain’t much of a decision,” Sage said into the mic. “It’s either yes or no. Or come to think of it, just go on, it’s all been a big mistake.”

Trace reached the boat from underwater. He flicked his flashlight on. He moved along the bottom of the trawler until he located the propeller shaft. The hull was wooden. He pressed the legs of the device into the haul. The grenade was pulled from a pouch around his waist. The wire was tugged to make sure it was secure. He slipped the grenade halfway into the can with the arm inside. He removed the pin and slid the grenade all the way into the can. He tested the device to make sure it was sturdy enough to hold when he yanked on the wire.

He took one stroke away. He turned. He thought, ‘Do I really want to do this. I only want a hole in the boat. I don’t want anyone to die. I want them to make it to a lifeboat.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, and he kicked and pushed away hard, taking strong strokes.

He swam hard and fast, letting out the wire. He reached the end of the wire. The Tramp Islander waved in the water above. Makani stood at the rail. 

Trace erupted from the water. Makani quickly tossed a line. Trace pulled on the wire. He drew tight and slacked. Trace grabbed the line, and Makani began reeling him toward The Tramp Islander. 

“What’s going on!” Came a voice from the trawler’s bullhorn.

Then there was the sound of a huge belch coming from beneath the trawler. The trawler lifted. Scraps of lumber, phosphorus sparks, and rolling flames heaved from the aft of the trawler. The dark sea lit.

Makani pulled Trace on board. Sage started the engine and let it settle. Then he moved the throttle forward.

Trace removed his gear and rushed to the pilothouse. 

“Circle around,” Trace said, “keep a comfortable distance. I’m not picking any of them out of the water, but if there aren’t enough rafts, we can let one down for them.”

“They wouldn’t do that for us,” Sage said, “but that’s not the point.”

“Kelsey!” Trace ordered. “Send a distress signal, a sinking boat. Give the location.”

Kelsey tapped out a signal that a boat was in distress and sank. 

Sage circled The Tramp Islander around the burning and smoldering wreckage. 

Trace looked for survivors. There were eight men in two life rafts.

Trace grabbed the mic. “We sent a distress signal and gave your position.”

They cursed.

“They’re not very grateful,” Trace said. “Get back on course. They’ll be fine.”

Sage returned The Tramp Islander to their original course. 

Trace slipped into the captain’s chair. Sage and Kelsey hoisted the sails.

Maybe It's Just Me, But Aren't Napkins Getting Thinner?

 Maybe it's just me, and usually it is, but aren't the restaurant napkins getting thinner? 

I remember the day when you used to be able to pull one out of a napkin holder, clean off your silverware, blow your nose, fold it, put it in your back pocket, use it for a week, leave it in your pants, run it through the wash, and it was clean and ready to go for a while. Yeah, for sure, those days are gone.

I used to let 'em collect in the glove compartment. When the gas station ran out of paper towels for cleaning off the window and the dipstick after checking the oil, they worked fine.

Those ole greasy hamburger joints used stick 'em in the bottom of the bag. They'd not only soak up all the grease, but they could still be used to wipe the ketchup off your best shirt.

You'd think with all the paper that's being saved on account of nobody reading newspapers and glossy magazines anymore, that there'd be enough trees to go around, so they make the napkins just a little thicker.

Next thing ya know, they'll be complaining about overforestation and wonder why. 

The Double-Cross In Paradise; Episode 44, A Tricky Little Device That Goes Boom!

This is episode forty-four in the sixth novel of The Troy Adventure Series. It is titled The Double-Cross in Paradise. Here are the links to  The Double-Cross In Paradise: paperback, Kindle. 

A Tricky Little Device That Goes Boom!

Sage hunched over the workbench in the tight space of the engine room. He was skillful and crafty with tools. He worked fast and with precision. 

After an hour and a half, he crafted a strange-looking device. It looked like a miniature toy wooden horse with no neck or head, but a body with four legs. An empty beer can given to him by Makani became the body. The top and bottom of the can were cut out. The four legs were about a foot long and made from bar stock.

Sage brought the device to the pilothouse.

“I hope you have something,” Trace said. “That boat is heading toward us.”

Sage set the device on the chart desk.

“You want to tell me how it works?” Trace said.

Sage pointed at the legs. “Notice the legs are metal and sharp at the end. If the boat is wood, the legs can be forced into the wooden bottom. It only has to stay put for a couple of minutes at most. If it’s metal,” Sage placed a magnet on the chart desk, the size of a pack of cigarettes, “place the magnet on the hull of the boat, turn the feet away from the boat, and the magnet will keep the device attached to the boat. The grenade is placed inside the can with the pin pulled. The arm is restrained by the sides of the can. It won’t blow up. A wire is attached to the grenade. When the wire is pulled, the grenade comes out, and the arm is released, setting off the fuse. The fuse is set for four or five seconds. Another wire is attached to the grenade to keep it from falling too far. It will explode about two feet from the haul. Do you understand how it works?”

“I got it,” Trace said. “I’m the only one who knows how to scuba, so it will be up to me to plant the device, right?”

“You are so clever,” Sage joked. “Being so clever, you will have to figure out the logistics.”

“If it is one of Franks’ people, we will know that,” Trace said and continued. “They will be heading toward us. I’ll slip into the scuba gear. You will be at the wheel. Keep them about fifty yards away. There’s going to be some negotiations using a bullhorn or their system. Negotiate with them. I’ll swim underwater to their boat. Go beneath them and attach the device. I don’t know how long of a wire you’ll give me…”

Sage interrupted, “Fifty feet.” 

Trace continued, “Can you make it a hundred?”

“Sure,” Sage said.

“Okay. When I get a hundred feet, I pull the wire. Have Makani or Tom toss me a line and reel me in. But as soon as I grab the line, go full speed ahead.”

“We leave them there?” Sage asked.

“Presumably they’ve been properly instructed in all phases of dangers at sea and will be able to successfully handle the situation effectively,” Trace said sarcastically. 

“What do you think the chances are of pulling this off?” Sage asked. 

“What do you think?” Trace flipped Sage on the arm and grinned.

“Those guys don’t stand a chance,” Sage said. “We have the element of surprise and a foolproof tactic.”

“It’s so dark right now. I don’t think they’ll ever find us.”

Trace checked the heading. He glanced at a faint flash of light off the port side. He opened the window and peered into the dark sea. He turned his head to listen.

“What is it?” Sage asked.

“I saw a flash,” Trace said. “Did you see it?”

“I thought I saw something, but I thought it came from below.”

Tom hurried alongside the pilothouse and came in the back door.

“A light flashed over us,” Tom said excitedly. “Then I heard something. It sounded like a slow motor.”

“Geez,” Sage said, “We’re looking in the wrong direction. They’re behind us.”

Trace turned. The trawler crept aft. A spotlight from the side of its pilothouse flashed on, nearly blinding Trace, Sage, and Tom.”

The trawler sped along the port side.

A muffled voice from the trawler's speakers called out. “Drop you sails. Drop your sails immediately.”

Thanks, A Quarter Of A Million, From The Jittery Goat

Tuesday, March 3rd, 2026, this site reached a milestone of sorts. It had its 250,000th visit. 

This site was started in May of 2015. However, in the last two years, it has had nearly 145,000 visits. During the last two years, there have been at least three posts a week. 

I have little clue how that compares with comparable sites. Few folks clamor for a site featuring short stories and serialized novels. 

Before May of 2015, this site was hosted by WordPress. My time with that platform was about four or five years. The number of visits during that period was about 150,000. 

I decided to convert from WordPress to Blogger for several reasons. Pricing was one reason. WordPress, depending on what package was purchased, was at least ten times more expensive. Of course, there were many more features available, but I didn't need them. Blogger had just what I wanted: a barebones approach, yet providing enough options to make a site unique. 

Upon reflection, the one thing I miss about WordPress is the community of other writers that you become a part of. The feedback from them was valuable, and I enjoyed visiting their sites as well. 

Anyway, I just thought I'd take a few moments to express my thanks to those who visit my site. I hope you enjoy the stories. I enjoy writing them for you. 

Warmest regards,

Byron Lehman

The Double Cross In Paradise; Episode 43, Preparing To Repel All Boarders

This is episode forty-three in the sixth novel of The Troy Adventure Series. It is titled The Double-Cross in Paradise. Here are the links to  The Double-Cross In Paradise: paperback, Kindle. 

Preparing To Repel All Boarders

Trace and Kelsey began constructing a plausible story. They informed Sage, Makani, and Tom. Franks and Paul were kept in the dark. They were certain that Franks would contradict portions of Trace’s and Kelsey’s story, but they had alibis and explanations that would prove otherwise.

Shortly after sunset, and only a faint purple glow of the day remained on the western horizon, Tom cupped his hands around his mouth and called to the pilothouse. “There’s a flickering light starboard!”

Trace lunged to the starboard side of the pilothouse. He squinted, peering through the window. He reached back and grabbed the binoculars from a hook on the chart desk. He brought them to his eyes.

He grabbed the mic and stretched it to the starboard side. He pressed the button on the mic as he looked through the binoculars. “There’s a vessel starboard. It’s a trawler. It’s moving parallel to us. If they’re looking for us, they haven’t seen us yet.”

Trace returned to the wheel and flipped off the deck light. 

He put the mic to his mouth again. “Pull the shades and curtains on all portholes and only a night light.’

He hung the mic and turned to Kelsey. “Take Sage’s place and send him up. And have Makani bring me a coffee.”

Kelsey went below.

Sage climbed up the companionway. “What’s up, Trace?”

“I sent Kelsey below because I don’t think he could come up with an idea,” Trace said.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s law enforcement,” Trace said. “I’ve been trained the same way he has when it comes to conflicts at sea; you give in. It’s not worth the risk. I don’t like being beat, bested, or boarded. You, my friend, will come up with something.”

“For what?”

“I almost forgot, if that boat is some of Franks’ associates, I’d like to keep them and the boat away from us. We can’t outmaneuver or outrun them.”

“So you need an unconventional approach,” Sage said. “Ain’t that usually your department?”

“If that boat is one of Frank’s cohorts,” Trace said, “if they spot us, we may not have much time.”

“They’ll want Franks and his kid, right? If we give them over, would that be a bad thing?” Sage reasoned. “It’s temporary. They’ll eventually get caught.”

“That all sounds possible,” Trace replied, “but what if they want retribution. The drug business thrives on making examples of those who oppose it. I think if we turn over Franks and Paul, that won’t be the end of it. They’ll want to send a strong message.”

“Okay,” Sage said, “I can buy that. And I think you’re more right than wrong. Yep, we have to prepare for that because that’s who they are.”

“In whatever scenario, Franks and Paul are a bargaining chip, a delay tactic,” Trace said. 

“What are we delaying for?” Sage asked.

“The Australian Navy will be here in the morning.”

Makani brought a thermos of coffee.

“Thanks, Makani,” Trace said. 

“No problem,” Makani said. “What’s up?”

“I spotted a Trawler a few miles away,” Sage said. “We’re preparing for it to be somebody who’s looking for us. We’re trying to come up with a plan.”

“We hope to have a plane,” Sage said and clicked his cheek. He rubbed his chin. “I hate to tell you this, but I held on to a couple of grenades from the Flint Island escapade. I was going to hold on to them until I got back home. I had a project in  mind.”

“Well,” Trace said, “that’s a start. But I’m not into blowing people apart.”

“As am I,” Sage said.

“Can we use them to dissuade or disable them?” Trace said.

“That will be tricky,” Sage said. “We may have to prepare ourselves for the worst-case scenario.”

“An extreme resolution may be the only thing that can save our own lives and those of our friends,” Trace said.

“I guess that says it all,” Sage said. “And on that happy note, I have an idea.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“You can scuba dive, and you have the gear, right?” Sage asked.

“It’s stored forward,” Trace said. “The last time I used it was six months ago. It was in good working order then.”

“When my dad was in Korea, during the war, he learned a nifty little trick with a grenade,” Sage raised his eyebrows.”

“Watch the wheel for me,” Trace said. “I’m going forward to check out the scuba gear.”

Trace went forward and checked out the scuba gear. It was in good condition. He returned to the pilothouse.

“The gear is fine,” Trace said.

Sage gave up the captain’s chair to Trace.

“I’m going into the engine room,” Sage said. “I have to rig something up. I’ll grab a can of beer. My dad said they are perfect.”

“I’ll get it,” Makani said.

“I’ll get it,” Sage said. “There’s one on the counter inside the galley.”

Makani dashed for the companionway. “No problem. I get.”