It suffices to say that because this is one novel in a series, there may be things not understood unless one knows what has taken place in previous novels from this series. Here is a link to the first novel in the series: The Big Gamble in Paradise, paperback or Kindle.
Two cabs came to a stop on the pier next to The Tramp Islander. A man and a woman got out of each, and the drivers stacked their luggage next to the gangplank.
Trace and Adam saw them from the pilothouse. They just finished charting a course.
“You want me to greet them?” Trace asked
“Nah, I’ll take care of it,” Adam said. “I have to start sometime.”
Adam grabbed the mic. “All hands at the gangplank.”
Trace and Adam walked out to the gangplank. Coyote, Sage, and Makani gathered there.
“Come aboard,” Adam said, and the passengers crossed the gangplank and onto The Tramp Islander. They left their luggage on shore.
“Welcome aboard,” Adam said. “I’m Adam Troy, captain of The Tramp Islander. Call me by my name or captain. This is not a cruise liner. There is no shuffleboard, hot tubs, or piano bars; in fact, there is no bar. It will take more than two weeks at sea to arrive at Oeno Island. At the end of two days, you’ll go crazy. And by the time it’s over, you won’t know your names. To preserve some degree of sanity, there are TVs with VCRs and headsets in your cabins. We have a good library of tapes. You’ll probably memorize all the lines by the time we get there. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are at 7:00 AM, noon, and 5:00 PM. The kitchen is open one hour after the start of the meal. Snacks and drinks are available on the counter at all times. No one is allowed in the galley. If you need something from the galley, see Makani, don’t bother me or the crew. You can only shower every three days. Men, no more than two minutes, and women, no more than three. I’d rather suffer a little body stink than be without water. See me for exceptions. One beer a day. If you have a weapon, check it with me. We will sail nearly halfway before stopping at an island named Rarotonga. It will be long enough to restock. I’ll estimate six hours. We’ll stop at Gambier Island, and after that we’ll reach our destination in about a day and a half. Our time will depend on the wind and weather.”
Troy introduced each member of the crew.
“Now let’s have your names,” Troy said.
The shorter of the two men stepped forward. He had black wavy hair. It looked too black to be natural. He had a thin black mustache. “My name is Maxwell Collins.”
He nodded to the woman beside him. She stood taller than Maxwell. She had big blonde hair lying his a mass of ringlets down to her shoulders. And a mole on the left cheek.
“This is Darlene Collins, my wife,” Maxwell said. He nodded to the next man and motioned with his hand to step forward.
The man stepped forward. He stood tall and thin and bull-legged. His face was baby-fresh. “My name is Calvin Whooly
The woman next to him stepped forward. She wore the same hairstyle as Darlene, except her hair was the same black color as Maxwell's. Her pitted face was caked with makeup. “I’m Wilma Whooly.
Adam held his lower lip between his teeth. He appeared bewildered. He looked at the crew. They seemed lost. He glanced at his passengers. They seemed very content.
“Umm,” Adam said. “You’ll have to carry your own luggage. The first mate, Trace, will show you to your cabins.”
“Excuse me, Captain,” Maxwell said, “how soon after breakfast will we be casting off?”
“We’ll be casting off three hours before breakfast,” Adam said. “We’ll wake you a half hour before breakfast. We should be well out to sea by then.”
Trace showed the passengers to their cabins. And Trace climbed up to the pilothouse.
Adam sat in the Captain’s chair, and Trace sat in the chair at the chart desk.
“Well,” Adam said, “what do you think?”
Trace shook his head. “They don’t belong on this boat, and I can’t see them on an island in the middle of the South Pacific without a beauty salon and nail parlor close by.”
“I bet neither one of those guys has changed a flat tire or a light bulb,” Adam said.
“Something ain’t right about this,” Trace said.
“You said the check cleared, right?” Adam said.
“That’s what Allie said,” Trace replied.
Sage and Coyote entered from the back door. “My god, who are they? They dressed like they’re going out for a night of drinking and dancing. Not regular people but people who don’t know what real work is all about.”
“I think we got problems,” Sage said.
“It’s appropriate to quote The Bible and Samuel Morse at this time,” Adam said. “What hath God wrought?”
No comments:
Post a Comment