If You Have Read This Book, Thank you.

If you have taken the time to read through this book, I hope you have found at least a few thoughts or images which stick with you. In reality, I thought I had pulled it off line until a recent e-mail from someone who discovered it, alerted me to a typo. So, since it is still out there and since at least one person is giving it a look, I thought I would add this note. If any future reader might wonder, What's next? Here are my thoughts.

I am in the process of working over the printed proof copy and refining the book so that, in hard copy, it will be improved from what appears here and will most likely appear under a different heading such as "The Mystery of Dog Mountain." Over several years I have used this manuscript as a work project for developing writing techniques and attacking the pitfalls of authorship such as the too-frequent use of being verbs (especially "was"), misuse of adverbs, heavy reliance on such fillers as "that." Descriptions of such things as the houseboat or places as Prohtaburg (to be re-incorporated as "Indian Run") are, hopefully, becoming more manageable for the reader.

At the same time, I'm re-working the second book - "Strangers and Friends," and wondering whether to share it in another blog. Your thoughts would be appreciated. As I say, I write for my own enjoyment. Nevertheless, it is worth knowing whether something I enjoy is in some way enjoyed by others - or would be enjoyed if better done.

hhc

Copyright and Contact Information

Copyright 2010 H. Hamilton Comings

Published on http://houseboatstormyweather.blogspot.com/


Online version completed December 17, 2010.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews or in works treating subjects to which such brief quotations would be pertinent.


The author may be contacted at:

comingsus@yahoo.com

H. Hamilton Comings
8 MacGregor Street
Cortland, NY 13045

Chapter One - Mop Water

From among a stand of young evergreens, two eyes peered beneath the brim of a dark hat. On a flat rock suspended over a deep valley, a woman cradled a small boy in her arms. She smiled as she looked into the eyes of the man standing at her side. Wordlessly, they left the rock and stepped carefully among boulders until they came to the forest which bordered the rocky expanse. There they paused. The man took the baby, faced an opening between two old oaks, pointed and whispered in his ear. Then he clutched the child securely and led the woman between the trees and out of sight.  

Silently, a man emerged from the midst of the evergreens. He studied the place where the couple disappeared. With a sad smile he walked over to the flat rock, sat, adjusted his hat and stared toward the setting sun.

* * *

A can of beets. Nothing significant about that. Nothing, that is, unless you’re an eleven-year-old boy for whom beets, especially these particular beets on this particular afternoon, make you think God has a warped sense of humor.

“I don’t know any kids in my grade who have to think about a list of jobs and stuff after being at school all day,” Alexander MacLeigh grumbled as he shuffled into the kitchen that rainy afternoon in March. He intended the remark to be the first item in a list of complaints. That was before he saw the can in his mother’s hand. With hands shoved deep in his pockets he muttered, “Figures.”

Mrs. MacLeigh studied his face. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Rough day?” she asked.

He sighed. “If it isn’t Miss Freeman, it’s the Wain-wrong creep. And if it isn’t Wainwrong, it’s chores, and if it isn’t chores, it’s…” He looked up.

His mother smiled. “Well, I can’t really do anything about Miss Freeman,” she explained. “I’m afraid she’s going to replace Mrs. Woodwell for the rest of the year. And, I’m sorry the Wain-WRIGHT boy is so bothersome. I wish we COULD help. And, honestly, chores are a very important part of life. They have to be done.”

He stared at the floor. "Yeah, I guess." Then he raised his eyes again.

She held the can of beets close to her face, scrutinized it and said, “Now as for these." 

She set the can in the cupboard.

"Alexander, you've become a bit moody and argumentative lately. But, it sounds to me like this may have been a difficult day. So..." She looked at him and grinned. "How about we have something different than beets?"


"That would be..." His eyes narrowed. "Different? What?"


"Carrots for dinner," she said. "The other vegetable afterward."


"What other vegetable?"


"A member of the squash family."

He sniffed. “Not funny.”

“I had in mind, pumpkin...as in, pumpkin pie.”

His eyes widened. “Could we?”

She nodded. “Tonight…yes…I think we could.”

He chuckled. “Wow. Yeah…sure. That’ll help. A lot! Thanks.”

Then he jumped as a voice behind him said, “Speaking of the Wainwright boy.”

Alexander took a deep breath and turned around. “He’s a creep, Dad.”

“What does he do?”

“Nothing to me, really, other than call me, ‘Lehhhhhhhhx.’ It’s just that he’s always talking or doing stupid things like tripping kids or making faces at the teacher when her back’s turned.” He paused and smiled.

Mr. MacLeigh noticed. “Kind of funny faces?”

Alexander put his hand over his mouth to conceal his grin. “Yeah, actually. But, he’s annoying. And he fails most of his tests. And he’s always getting sent to the principal. And he thinks everything’s a big joke. And so do the other creeps he hands out with.”

“From what I hear,” Mrs. MacLeigh said. “He’s a pretty stranded boy.”

Alexander was about to object when his father replied, “Have you found out if his mother has any close friends?"

Mrs. MacLeigh sighed. "From what I hear she doesn't mingle much. She definitely doesn't hang out with people like us."

Mr. MacLeigh began to set the table. "I wish there were someone like Mr. Osgood who could get to know the boy."

Dutifully, Alexander opened a drawer to get some flatware.

Mrs. MacLeigh shook her head and paused to look out the window again. "Maybe, if he would spend some time with kids from troubled homes instead of kids from good homes..."

She did not finish her sentence. Alexander looked up and found her looking toward his father. With a soft sternness, Mr. MacLeigh said, "Kids from the best of homes sometimes need help."

Nodding ever so slightly, she said, "Yes...you're right. And I AM grateful for what he does for Alexander and the others. It's just that there are so many Frank Wainwrights and so few Erford Osgoods."

Unobserved, Alexander slipped out of the kitchen. While his parents continued their discussion about children in trouble, he plopped himself in a chair in the living room and picked up his English reading assignment. Mystified, he shook his head. Wainwrong’s not a troubled kid. He’s a creep. What's the big deal?

With the prospect of pumpkin pie instead of beets, Alexander’s afternoon and evening actually did improve. He even found a science assignment about whales interesting enough to talk about at supper. By bedtime the more unpleasant memories of the day no longer sat on his shoulder. While his mother put his little sister and herself to bed, he took his bath, donned his pajamas and bathrobe, and trotted into the living room to spend some time with Dad.

This time had become a time to enjoy stories together. Although he could read books himself, he enjoyed the manly sound of his father’s voice bringing the action to life.

Without a word, he climbed up onto the chair arm, lifted a book from the end table and waited. Oddly, Mr. MacLeigh took no notice of the book. His eyes had a faraway look – far enough away so Alexander worried that there would be no story.

Abruptly, Mr. MacLeigh shook his head, blinked his eyes and asked, "How would you like something different tonight?"

"The Hardy Boys?" Alexander suggested, setting down the first book and picking up another.

"No, not a story in a book," Dad answered, stroking his chin and looking as though thinking really hard. "I had in mind...." He paused. "I had in mind a story about a little boy."

"What's his name?"

"Actually, I don't know."

"Huh?" Alexander's face twisted with puzzlement.

"A friend of mine and I made up stories about him and his friends a long time ago. We never gave him a name. Maybe you can give him one."

Not at all convinced this could be a good idea, Alexander held up the book so his father could not miss seeing it. Mr. MacLeigh shook his head and returned the book to the table. Then he said, "It's about a little boy who had something very strange happen to him one night in the ocean..."

"In the ocean?"

"In the ocean just off the coast of Virginia."

Boring, Alexander thought but, wisely, did not say. Memories of the Wainwright discussion and the chores returned. The memory of the pumpkin pie could not overcome a growing feeling of disappointment and the lingering taste of toothpaste.

"Do you know where Virginia is?" Dad asked.

"Our teacher read about it today," Alexander shrugged, only half hearing. Then he added without thinking, "Some Pilgrims landed there."

"Not Pilgrims...John Smith."

"Oh, right." Alexander stifled a yawn.

"Did she show you a map?"

"Yeah."

"And did she show you where North Carolina is?"

Alexander looked at the floor and scowled for a moment. Scowling seems to be helpful when trying to remember something, or when trying to make someone else think you're trying to remember something. Finally, looking back at his father, he said, "North Carolina's just below Virginia."

"Good for you," said Mr. MacLeigh.

Alexander smiled halfheartedly. "Thanks."

For a moment after that things became very quiet until, at last, Mr. MacLeigh continued. "Well, our little boy's story actually starts in North Carolina at a harbor where there are lots of boats."

Alexander heard his mother dump a bucket of mop water into the kitchen sink. That's odd, he thought. Mom doesn't clean the floors until Saturday.

The splashing came again, only louder.

SPLASH!

How many buckets does she have? He wondered as he looked toward the kitchen. All was dark. He took a sharp breath. Wait a minute! He reminded himself. Mom went to bed!

SPLAAAAAASH!

He jerked around to look at his father. Mr. MacLeigh looked straight ahead and seemed unaware of anything out of the ordinary.

Alexander squinted. His father’s lips were moving but without any sound.

SPLAAAAAAAAASH!

Alexander shook his head. He tried to clear his ears with his fingers. When he pulled them out another sound startled him - a shrill clamor of screeching and screaming above his head.

Chapter Two - What Trip?

[For earlier chapters - scroll down or go to the left-side-bar menu.]      

 Flustered,  Alexander clapped his hands over his ears. Everything around him began to look like colors bleeding together into a meaningless mass. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again everything indoors gave way to a vast outdoors with sunlight so brilliant it made him squint.

Dazed, he looked down to discover he no longer sat on the arm of a chair, but on top of a tall, thick pole jammed into tightly-packed, dirty, white sand far below. He also discovered he now wore sandals, loose-fitting khaki pants and a white polo shirt.

Overhead scores of screeching, screaming gulls flew in all directions at once.

Looking to his right, a vast ocean stretched as far as the eye could see. In front of him and behind him a boardwalk extended in either direction. Clusters of shops, built on pilings much like the one on which he perched, lined the walkway. Between the boardwalk and the ocean, the approaching waves spread out into a brown, foaming mass which glided nearly up to the posts before slithering back into the sea.

With his mouth still agape, he stared wide-eyed at the incredible spectacle and became more aware of the smell of salty air, the feel of the warm, damp breeze, the sounds of people chattering in the distance, as well as that raucous screeching of gulls, and the crashing of the breakers a few yards away. He held his breath and looked in the direction where his father should have been.

"AAAAAAAAGH!"

Startled by a bewhiskered stranger, Alexander lost his balance and would have fallen off the post had not the man put a hand on his shoulder held and him steady. The man's eyes twinkled as he pulled his hand back and stepped away. He gave him a wink and asked, "You ready to see that boat, young fella?"

"Boat?" Alexander choked as he struggled to control his rising terror.

"Yep," he said, seeming oblivious to Alexander's turmoil. "Got her fixed up just like your Pa wanted."

Breathing heavily, Alexander wondered out loud about his father. The man grinned and made some remark about Mr. MacLeigh wanting them to go ahead without him.

"Go ahead?" Alexander asked, eying him suspiciously as he slid off the post and stepped back.

"You know. Look the boat over. See if she's what you want."

The man turned and walked away. Alexander had no other option but to follow and try to listen.

"That's a good tackle shop there..." the man pointed out.

Alexander thought to himself, See if the boat's what I want? What boat? Why would I want a boat?

"You'll find places like this here and there up the coast..." the man rambled on.

Dad has to be somewhere! He knows what's happening! This is all okay. It's GOT to be okay!

"Your Pa's put in a lot of supplies, but if you need anything, there's always places like that one over there where..."

Alexander shook his head, and thought, This has to be a dream.

The man rambled on. "Things cost a heap, but you've got money..."

Alexander slapped his hand against a piling as they went by. Ow! That's solid. He shook his hurting fingers. It can't be a dream.

"The boat's rigged with a terrific center of gravity that'll make it almost impossible to tip over..."

But it HAS to be a dream. He paused to stomp his foot on the boardwalk.

The man stopped, turned and looked at him and smiled. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Alexander replied, blushing.

"Good," the man said dubiously. "It wouldn't do to be sick or something on your first day out."

First day out? Out where?" Alexander struggled to think as he pulled the front of his shirt out so he could read the words he had just discovered. "Be There," he said to himself.

"Fine day fer sailin'. In fact, weather's supposed to be good for awhile."

What was it Dad said grampa used to say?...

"That'll be good for gettin' used to the ocean."

He read the shirt again. That was it! "Wherever you are...be there."

The man pointed off to the right. "If you'll look over there you'll see..." But Alexander kept repeating to himself, Wherever you are...be there, wherever you are...be there.

"Buoys are kind of like road markers that help you stay on an invisible road..."

Take deep breaths, he urged himself. Deep breaths. I don't know how to get out of this. So...I'd better get into it until Dad does something...

No matter how often he repeated the words, Wherever you are...be there, his thoughts raced wildly. What do I say to this man...what do I do next...what...

"There she is!" the old seaman announced proudly.

"Where? What?"

"Yonder. The boat."

The two of them had passed a little harbor, turned onto a boat-lined pier and now walked down a narrower dock where they came alongside a rather curious looking craft unlike the others.

Higher than the dock but lower than most of the other boats, the main deck could be seen easily by a grown man. Alexander, on the other hand, had to jump a little to get a look.

Alexander gawped this way and that as he followed the old man up a gang plank and passed through an open gate at the back of the boat. There he stepped down onto a box and then onto what the man called the "aft deck." On all sides a wall came up to his waist and a metal rail reached his chest.

"Oh, wow!" Alexander whispered to himself as they passed between a bathroom and a refreshment nook and then among shining wood tables surrounded by padded seats, and then past cupboards, and, beneath a rack of life jackets.

"You'll be livin' down here," the man said, directing him down the steps on the left, which he called "the port side." This brought them into the hold of the vessel where Alexander now stared in wonder at a fully furnished kitchen, a little area with soft seats around a table, a separate room with three sets of bunk beds, and a full bath complete with shower. All in all the hold gave him the weird impression of being larger than the boat itself.

"Do you like her?" the old fellow asked, starting back up the other set of stairs to the right, on what he called "the starboard side."

"Her?"

"The boat."

"Oh...yes...yes, I like...uh...her a lot," Alexander agreed as they emerged into the passenger cabin.

"Then she's yours for the trip, young'un," the man assured him, taking him out onto the open deck at the front of the boat which he called the "bow."

"The trip?" Alexander asked.

"I've rigged her myself. She's totally seaworthy and able to weather rough seas as good as any big ship - maybe better."

Alexander thought he understood...or, maybe he thought he ought to understand.

"Let me show you the topside," the man said, heading for the passenger cabin.

Alexander stood still. "What trip?" he insisted.

With a chuckle, the man explained, "Your Pa tells me you're want'n to head north, up the coast. That'll be good. It'll give you a chance to break her in and learn how she handles before you head out to sea."

Alexander just stared at him in disbelief as he followed him into the passenger cabin and up the starboard stairs to what the man identified as the "observation cabin." They did not pause here. The simple table and padded chairs created no urge to look. Instead they stepped through the door onto what would have been an open deck had it not been for a canopy overhead.

"This here's the sun deck," the old man explained.

Alexander looked at the plain canvass canopy and thought it would be clever to say, "Can't see much sun with that thing in the way."

The man turned and eyed him, one brow raised. "You'll be glad enough to put it up when there ain't a cloud in the sky."

"It comes down?"

"Like takin' candy from a baby."

"You never tried taking candy from my kid sister," Alexander mumbled.

"It's all in the way you go about it," the man replied confidently.

"You don't know Gretchen."

"Don't need to."

"How many babies have you taken candy from?" Alexander challenged.

"None that I can remember. Never had reason to."

"So, what makes you so sure it's easy?"

"Who said anything about bein' easy?"

"You did."

"Nope."

"Yes you did!" Alexander insisted. "You said..."

"I said 'LIKE takin' candy from a baby.' I didn't say 'AS EASY as takin' candy from a baby.' You jumped the gun, young'un."

Annoyed, Alexander sniffed. "Not fair." Keeping his hands deep in his pockets, he followed the man sullenly.

"The key to winnin' an argument." The man snickered. "Is listenin' to see if there's anything really worth arguin' about."

Blushing, Alexander stared at the deck.

Chapter Three - Out to Sea

[For earlier chapters - scroll down or go to the left-side-bar menu.]

"Now, this here's the bridge." The man opened a door into the cabin at the front of the upper deck and then stepped aside. "We call it the helm."

Alexander stepped across the threshold and looked up. "Oh!" he gasped. His eyes widened at a spectacle of switches, gauges, headsets, microphones, a lever, a steering wheel and rows of lights on a dashboard beneath the front window.

"Don't let all those gizmos scare you. They're the controls. You'll learn about 'em real fast."

Alexander wanted to say I don't think so, but he did not have time. With a sweep of the hand the man invited him to notice the other furnishings packed tightly in the small space: two swivel chairs bolted to the floor, a pedestal with a compass, a table with maps fastened to its surface and tucked in side pockets, and another of those boxes with spooled rope. Eight life jackets hung against the back wall on either side of the large aft window.

Drawing Alexander’s attention back to the dashboard, the man said, "Now, let's start talking about this here control panel."

Alexander hesitated. "No way am I going to learn all of this."

"Don't sell yourself short, young'un. Nobody ever done nothin' by sayin' 'I can't.'"

"'Never did anything,'" Alexander corrected him under his breath.

"What's that?"

"Wha...? Oh, sorry. Never mind. It's a mom thing."

"If you say so." The man put his hand on the large lever. "Anyhow...this here's the throttle..."

Throttle...steering wheel...depth lights...fuel gauge...battery...speed gauge.

"You measure speed in knots," the man explained.

"What's that?

"A knot's the same as one point one-five-one miles per hour."

One-point-one-five-one miles per hour, Alexander repeated to himself. Hey! I CAN remember this stuff!

This may seem as amazing to you as it did to him. Perhaps this is the kind of thing that happens when someone actually lives a story being told by his dad. At any rate, the more the bewhiskered stranger explained, the more confident Alexander became until the man said, "Let's take her out for a trial run."

"Me?! Now?!"

"Nobody else. No better time."

It would be wrong to say Alexander's confidence disappeared. The idea of actually sailing the boat excited him enough to want to do it. However, when desire becomes reality there can sometimes be the sudden jolt he felt. Nevertheless, squaring his shoulders and tossing his head slightly as though more sure of himself than he really was, he followed the man onto the sun deck. "Right. Sure. That'd be what Dad would expect."

"First we take the candy away from this baby," the man chuckled.

"Huh?"

"The canopy, boy. It's gotta come down. It'd act like a parachute when the boat got movin'."

Alexander grinned. "I could call the boat The Mary Poppins.

The man looked at him, looked away, shook his head and started to unfasten a latch on one of the rods.

Part way into the task Alexander thought to himself, Nah, I'll think of a different name for the boat; but, for sure I'm goinna call this canopy thing "Gretchen."

Only a few minutes later the two of them stood side by side, looking at the bundle of canvas and poles strapped snugly on the floor against the back wall of the bridge. "There," the man said. "Now, let's set her free."

"Set her free?" Alexander wondered as he followed him.

"You'll see."

At the prow they hoisted the anchor, winding the cable onto its windlass until they could pull it through the opening at the base of the wall and fasten it to the deck.

"Hey you!" the old man called out to a young man passing by. "How about unfastening that mooring line."

"Sure enough," the fellow replied. He stooped over the cleat on the dock, unwrapped the nylon rope, slipped off the loop and tossed it onto the boat. "How about the other one?" he called out.

"Appreciate it," the man replied. "I'll meet you there." He looked at Alexander. "You wrap that one around the cleat and meet me aft."

Not wanting to miss anything, Alexander coiled the rope quickly. Then he ran through the passenger cabin.

"Now for the plank," the man said as Alexander arrived.

"What about the anchor and line?"

The old man shook his head. Take them off now, and the boat may drift before you can get to the plank. It's a might easier pulling it in off the dock than pullin' it up outta the water."

Alexander nodded, tying not to look foolish. "Good point."

He saw the young man on the dock look away and smile. The old sailor smiled, too, as he lifted the plank hooks from their slots in the wall of the boat. Alexander helped pull the board in, set it on the deck and strap it down.

As they hoisted the anchor he felt the boat begin to move. His heart raced. His hands trembled. On the dock, the man removed the mooring line from the cleat. Alexander took it from him and coiled it where it belonged. Then he followed the old man to the bridge. His legs felt wobbly. His head felt a little dizzy.

The old sailor proved to be a good teacher. He made sure Alexander's fingers touched what needed to be touched and Alexander's eyes saw what needed to be seen. Patiently he guided him in starting the engine and maneuvering the boat away from the dock and piloting it through the boat-cluttered harbor into the open water. Other than needing to be reminded to lay off the horn a little, Alexander handled the craft without a problem.

As the boat plowed through the waves, he learned how to lock the wheel on course. This let him follow his teacher around the boat, picking up more information. The skill of walking with the deck moving beneath his feet took a little time to develop.

He loved the rhythmic slap-slap-slap of the waves against the hull. The rush of the wind in his hair and past his ears thrilled him. The hot afternoon sun gave him energy. The rich salt air made the sights, smells, choppy sensations and cluttered sounds of the ocean delicious. Only briefly did he think he might be sick. That crisis passed when an unexpected appearance of porpoises captured his attention.

At the end of the in-motion tour they returned to the upper deck. The old man leaned against the port railing and looked out toward the coast. Alexander, on the other hand, paced from starboard to port and back again several times. When he tired of that he went to the lower deck where he paced from bow to stern. So many things begged to be seen all at once and much remained to be seen when the old man called to him, "Time to take her back."

At the bridge, Alexander noticed a lump in his throat as he did what needed to be done to turn the craft around and guide it back to its berth. He hated to see the good time end. With some difficulty he paid attention to the old sailor explaining what to do when the weather got rough.

"Put a harness on." He jerked a thumb toward the life jackets. "And fasten that there clamp to it," he added, pointing to the spooled rope in the box. "If the steerin' wheel don't work like it should you can go aft and use that pole. Pull the lever next to it and you can operate the rudder from there. Make sure you keep yourself hitched until you get to the observation cabin, then, when you get to the aft, hitch yourself to the rope in one of those other boxes."

When the old man finished his instructions he and the boy lapsed into silence. Carefully, Alexander maneuvered the vessel among the other boats in the harbor. Remembering his lessons well, he brought it to its pier and killed the engine so the hull would bump gently against the dock bumpers. Then he followed the man out the starboard door of the bridge and onto the sun deck, all the time reviewing in his mind what would need to be done to secure the craft in place. He did not expect the man to turn abruptly, shake his hand and say, "Well, sailor, she's all yours. Enjoy your trip up the coast." And he became very confused when the old fellow smiled, winked, and walked across the deck toward the observation cabin, leaving him standing there alone.

Not sure what else to do, Alexander stepped over to the port railing. Shortly the bewhiskered fellow appeared on the pier, having jumped off the boat without bothering to use the gangplank. With a wave of the hand, he motioned for Alexander to be on his way. Then he turned and walked toward the shops. Alexander watched and waited. The man never looked back.

Still standing at the railing after the old fellow disappeared among boats and buildings, Alexander looked up and down the pier. He saw people in the distance, tending their own boats, but but no one nearby.
 
Am I just supposed to...take the boat and... leave? he wondered.

Numbly, he returned to the bridge and started the engines. What if someone accuses me of stealing? 

Carefully he backed the boat from its berth and headed, once again, for the open sea, using the horn only when absolutely necessary. By the time he had left the traffic of other boats behind, he remembered the old man's words about heading north. He also remembered his father's words about the Virginia coast. With no other idea of what to do, he set his course at north by northeast and, keeping the coastline to his port. Then he just stood staring out the window.  

I can't do this! I'm a kid! Where am I supposed to go? What will I tell people? What if something goes wrong? His stomach tightened. Wait, get a grip, he commanded himself. I'm on Dad's lap. I've got to be on Dad's lap. He's not far away. It'll be okay...somehow it'll be okay.

Finally, he took a deep breath and studied the shoreline. Slowly his confidence returned. I CAN do this. To put this to the test, he locked the steering wheel and stepped out of the helm. The boat continued to move as it should. He went to the observation cabin. Still the boat plied the waters on a steady course.

Finally he dared to go all the way below deck where, peering in the refrigerator, he found milk, orange juice and some soft drink. He also found butter on the door, ice cubes in the freezer and some carrots and lettuce in the lower drawers. Smiling, he pulled out a soda, set it on the counter next to the sink and pulled the tab. In search of a glass, he unlatched the door of an overhead cupboard and looked inside at shelves stocked with a good supply of canned soups, canned peas, canned corn and...

"BEETS!" he exclaimed. "Dad! Did you have to put beets in here, too?"

Chapter Four - Marooned

[For earlier chapters - go to the side bar menu on the left.]

Having found a glass, Alexander dropped in some ice and poured his soda. Then he returned to the upper deck where he stood at the railing on the starboard side of the boat just behind the bridge. There he enjoyed the occasional spectacle of a large fish breaking the surface of the waves. Menageries of chattering birds delighted him as they took turns swooping down to skim the water for a meal or diving headlong for more out-of-reach morsels. The boat rocked and pitched gently but the movement no longer got his attention.

When he had seen enough of the ocean, he moved to the port side to watch the weathered buildings of little harbors, the tall condominiums of rich resorts and the bush-cluttered stretches of open shoreline. Eventually he made his way to the main deck and stood at the prow where he could see both the ocean and the land. Watching the bow slice through the water almost hypnotized him. Every so often another boat would come into view. Some came close enough so he could see the people on board.

From time to time he wondered where his father wanted him to go and how he would know when he got there. Although this worried him a little, he felt confident his father would know how to work it out. Occasionally he checked his compass and adjusted the rudder. Sometimes he toured the boat. Most of the time he just relaxed on the upper deck and enjoyed the weirdness.

As the sun got closer to the horizon and the shadows lengthened, a splaaaaash roused him and a fine mist fell on him.

He stared up at the sky and waited. The splaashhh came again, on the starboard side. He went to the railing and studied the ocean. The boat rocked a little differently. Then, without warning, a great whale exploded into view and rose almost vertically just a few yards away.

"Oh wow! Oh WOW!" he gasped as the creature loomed like a fat skyscraper and then toppled forward and fell into the ocean sending sheets of saltwater all around him like rain.

Immediately he knew he should dash to the helm, however his feet refused to move. Instead, he just stared at the place where the creature had disappeared.

When the whale exploded into view again he realized, It's getting closer! Then he worried, If it comes any closer it'll hit the boat! 

Seconds passed. Alexander braced himself. He waited and watched... and...waited and watched...and...waited and....

SHHHWHOOOOOOOSSSHHHHHHHH!

"GAAAAAAAAAAH!" he exclaimed, falling backward, when a loud burst of spray shot straight up into the air just a few feet away.

Slipping and sliding on the wet deck, he struggled back to the railing. "Oh wow!" he repeated, looking down and finding part of the whale's back in view and gliding alongside the boat.

"That thing is BIG!" he said. Then, "THAT THING IS CLOSE!"

Almost at the same time the boat shuddered as the creature's body made contact with the hull. After that Alexander felt a different movement beneath his feet.

"Wha...?" he started to say but stopped. His eyes widened. "It's pushing me!" Scrambling to the port rail he watched a moment longer. "It's pushing me toward land!"

Frightened, he looked for something to use to beat on the enormous hulk. Then, taking another look at the beast and guessing it would probably not do any good, he turned and raced to the helm. Maybe he could push it back out to sea. However, by the time he reached the steering wheel he figured that could not be done either.

I'll race it, he thought, reaching for the throttle. No, he thought again. Whales are fast. It'd beat me hands down. He probably meant fins down, but that did not cross his mind at the moment.

Out of ideas, he sat back in the swivel chair and stared straight ahead. I'm just going to have to sit here and wait to see what happens.

This waiting went on for about fifteen minutes. By that time the sun reached the horizon. Ahead of him empty shoreline extended as far as the eye could see. Then, "What's that?" he whispered as something caught his eye. Finding his binoculars, he focused on a small whale thrashing in worried circles in a lagoon surrounded by a reef of sand and stone.

The boat gave a sudden lurch forward.

Now what? Hurrying out of the helm to look over the starboard railing, he saw the whale had pulled away. It now moved ahead and sent up a loud spray. From the lagoon came a sprayed reply.

Alexander darted back to the helm and peered through the binoculars. The smaller whale had stopped thrashing.

Oh no! He's stuck! he guessed. Then he guessed something else. This one must be his mother! And...and...oh no! She's pushed me here because...she thinks...I can do something! His heart throbbed. She has no idea I'm just a kid!

Trembling, he guided his boat as close to the shoreline as possible. Blipping lights on the dashboard alerted him when the water began to be dangerously shallow. Incoming waves tried to force the houseboat landward, making him work the steering wheel hard to keep a safe course. Eventually, he reached the place where he could maneuver between the shore and a long, narrow island of sand and enormous rocks to his starboard. This breaker kept the waves from reaching the boat and made his work less difficult, but it also made it more tricky. The constant on-and-off of the dashboard lights revealed a narrow channel. When the lights stayed on he turned off the engines.

At this point the boat floated directly across from the trapped whale. Much of its body could be seen. He studied the lagoon and discovered a narrow channel which connected the pool to the ocean.

The guy swam up that channel, Alexander figured. When the tide went out he got trapped. But...What am I supposed to do?

He put his hand to his forehead. Think, think. What would Dad say?

He snapped his fingers. That's it. He stepped out of the helm and headed for the main deck. He would say: 'Stop, look and think.'

Out loud, he said, "I'm at the 'look' part."

After dropping two anchors, he surveyed the situation. Just a few feet from the boat he could see sand beneath the water. The gang plank would not be long enough to reach the shore and there the boat could not be moved any closer. Now his Grampa MacLeigh came to mind again. What was it Dad told me grampa used to say? 'Look around. There's always something nearby you can use.'

"What's this?" he said, noticing, for the first time, a rope ladder with wooden rungs hanging on the cabin wall on the port side of the door. Taking the ladder down he explored and found a couple rings on the wall beneath the port gate.

A quick search resulted in an Aha! moment when he discovered a pair of clamps on one end of the ladder. Those clamps fastened nicely to the rings under the gate. When he opened the gate and draped the ladder over the side, it reached the water.

Confident he could swim to the sandbar, Alexander hurried below deck and found a pair of swimming trunks. Quickly changing, he hurried back up onto the deck and clambered down the ladder. In the water he struck out for the shore and scarcely had to swim at all before he felt sand beneath his feet.

Clumsily he stumbled a couple times as he tried to hurry through the water onto the dry peninsula. Then he ran down to the water's edge on the lagoon side. Apparently his being there meant something to the young whale. The creature wriggled close to where he stood. A solitary, eye watched him over the surface of the water.

Shwooooooshhhhh, the animal snorted softly. Alexander jumped. From out at sea came a soft reply.

He looked toward the ocean, then, turning to the trapped whale, he dropped to his knees and tried to sound calm as he said, "Don't worry, buddy." At the same time he thought, I can't do this. I'm a kid. This thing's huge. But then he remembered, You didn't think you could sail a houseboat either.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Needing to look around a little more, he scampered to the channel. The whale followed him as best it could, then lay still as he hurried back to the ocean side of the sand bar and swam back to the boat. In the hold he found a shovel which he heaved onto the dry ground. When he returned to the sand bar, he picked it up and ran to the channel. There he paused and looked at the size of the whale, at the shallowness of the waterway and at the smallness of his shovel.

This is going to take a lot of digging, he sighed. Then he waded a few feet into the water, near where the whale lay, and began to heave sand as quickly as he could.

Chapter Five - Oh NO!

[For earlier chapters - go to the side bar menu on the left.]

It took only a few shovelfuls of wet sand for Alexander to realize he could not shovel the whale free.

Glumly, he walked toward the boat. The whale scuttled through the shallow water alongside him. Its mother snorted in the distance. Alexander stopped, looked back at the channel, jammed the shovel into the sand and walked down to the edge of the lagoon. There he sat, resting his arms on his knees and his chin on his arms.

Darkness had settled in, an eerie darkness that let him scan the far side of the lagoon with its expanse of exposed sand between the water's edge and the tall grasses on the distant bank. That's odd, he thought, wrinkling his forehead. He looked over his shoulder. A full moon hovered just above the horizon.

He looked at the whale. "At least I'll be able to keep an eye on you." His eyebrows shot up and his eyes darted this way and that, looking over the whole lagoon. With a laugh, he got up on his knees, leaned forward and splashed a handful of water at the whale. "The moon's up, little guy. The tide's coming. Pretty soon this pool will be really deep again." Then he leaned back on his elbows, relaxed at last. "I'll stay with you until you can swim out."

The whale gave a short, soft snort. Slowly it turned and made its way with difficulty toward the deeper water.

I wonder if they'll have whales like this in the new aquarium they're building down town? Alexander wondered, remembering a conversation with Mr. Osgood a few days earlier. They had talked about about the big project and about all the things that would be necessary to keep whales and dolphins and seals comfortable in captivity.

"Oh my!" he blurted out, sitting bolt upright. "Whales need to be able to get all the way under water!"

Instantly, he sprang to his feet and  ran so fast he almost stumbled. Behind him he heard the whale moving about again. He turned to look. The creature struggled closer to shore. "Don't worry!" he called out. "I think I can help." Then he sloshed into the water on the other side of the sand bar and swam toward the boat.

After finding a small pail, he hurried back to the lagoon. "Easy boy," he urged as he stepped nervously into the pool. When it tried to move closer to him he hesitated. Although his heart pounded hard, he made himself take the next step and then the next until, at last, standing in water above his waist, he scooped up a pailful and heave it onto the huge body.

The whale let off a gentle burst. shhhhhhoooooshhhh

Alexander's whole body jerked. Taking a deep breath, he tried to stop trembling as he said, "Okay, I guess that means you liked it...right?"

Tentatively, he reached out and put his hand on the animal's side. Even though he had never touched a whale before he did not think it felt right. "You've been here a long time haven't you?"

Trying not to move so fast he would frighten the animal, yet moving as fast as he could to do the most good, he threw several more pailfuls. Then he became aware of another problem.

"Hey," he said, patting the rubbery hide. "It's going to be too deep on the other side for me to do this." Standing where the animal's eye could watch him, he made a circular motion with his hand. "Can you turn around?" The whale did not respond. Alexander chuckled, "I guess you don't speak English."

shhhhhhwoooooshhhh

Alexander snapped his fingers. "Hey, that might work," he said, turning to leave. Then, pausing, he looked back and added, "Wait a minute. Did you just tell me that?"

Smiling and shaking his head at the silliness of thinking he could understand whale, he returned to his boat. This time the animal did not try to find the deeper regions of the lagoon. When Alexander returned he brought with him a rope, one end of which he now tied to the handle of the bucket. Wading out to the whale's side again, he felt beneath the water until he had found its pectoral fin.

"Steady. Don't move," he coaxed as, ever so carefully, he placed a foot on the fin, up close against the body. "Trust me," he said. Then he launched himself upward and sprawled out on the animal's back and waited a moment. When the whale made no movement, he hoisted himself up and shifted himself around until he sat astride the large back just a few inches away from the blowhole. Comfortable at last, he lowered the pail into the water, brought it up and dumped it.

shhhhhhwoooooshhhh

The gush almost caught him in the face. "Hey! Be nice," he scolded. Then he laughed and lowered the bucket into the water again.

The whale's body shivered as the next bucketful cascaded over a dry area of its hide. When the next bucketful brought a snort, Alexander smiled. More confident now, he developed an easy rhythm of drop-hoist-dump-drop. As he worked he felt good...very good. He felt really pleased to be helpful. The minutes seemed to pass quickly. "We're friends, right?" he whispered.

shhhhhhwoooooshhhh

"Ha!" he teased. "You didn't scare me that time." Then, wanting to hear more than waves and the sound of his bucket handle, he talked. "Maybe I could get a job at the new place they're making back home." As the idea grew on him, he added, "Yeah, maybe someday I could ride a whale... or... at least a dolphin."

shhhhhhhwooooooshhhhh

"I know, it's not right to catch animals and put them in tanks and cages. I wouldn't try to catch whales, honest. But...people do it...and maybe I could do things to make their life a little happier."

shhhhhhhwoooooshhh

Every so often he would stop dumping and stare at the moon. As time went on he had to lean farther back to see it. The last time he did that the whale moved. Alexander sprang upright. "Wha...? What's happening?" The great hulk shuddered. Alexander looked down. He could not see his feet. He looked more carefully. The water lapped around his knees. Although he had felt it rising, he had not thought anything about it. Twisting his body this way and that to scan the area, he discovered the lagoon looked more like a small lake. Glancing down he saw only the small patch of whale's body on which he sat.

Time to get off, he thought. Leaning forward, he patted the whale's side. "Stop for a minute, fella."

Shhhhhhhwooooshhhh

"GAAAAAAAH!" he yelled, jerking back, his hair drenched by the explosion of moist air.

From out in the ocean there came a loud snort. The whale moved a little faster. Wide-eyed, Alexander stared ahead as he shucked himself back a little and tossed the bucket and rope onto the small part of the sandbar which could still be seen. Then he crouched again and gripped the sides of the animal. His heart pounded in his ears. "Whoa! Wait! I'm still here!" he said desperately.

SHWOOOSHHHHHHH!

The loud explosion missed him, but it made him jump.

At the entrance to the channel the whale slowed down. "Okay! Okay! You can do it," Alexander assured him. "Just stop long enough for me to get off...Please."

But the whale did not stop. Steadily, the creature glided forward, following the deepest path of the waterway. When he reached the narrow confines of the channel Alexander hoped there might still be a shallow area where the animal would pause.

Soon the the water covered his legs. He shivered. Behind him he could see the creature's tail rising and falling as it propelling him forward. That thing could hurt if I got hit by it, he reasoned. Suddenly the whale moved faster. Alexander looked forward at a turbulent ocean. He looked back and saw the breakwater, the boat, the slim reef and the lagoon moving farther and farther away.

"Oh NO!"

No longer in calm, secluded waters, he found himself surrounded by large, unfriendly waves. In rising panic he did the only thing he could think to do. He cried out, "DAD!"


Without warning, except for a soft sssshhhhhhhwoooosh, the whale dropped farther below the surface, leaving Alexander to tread water. Desperately he snapped his head one way and another to see the whale come back into view. Cresting a wave, he discovered the mother whale not far away. As soon as he saw her he remembered a horrid video with a whale attacking a young sea lion, throwing it in the air, tormenting it and finally killing it.

Absolutely frantic as he slid helplessly into a trough between two waves, losing sight of anything but angry water. Cold terror gripped his heart.

"DAAAAAAAD!" he shrieked.

Then "AAAAAAAAGH!" as the young whale came up beneath him.

For a moment everything became a confusion of water and beast. Alexander felt himself rise into the air. Then, with an "Umph!" he landed on his back. There, lying with his shoulder against the whale's dorsal fin, he felt himself being carried forward.

Gotta get up! He struggled over onto his side and hoisted himself into a sitting position. No, no, no, he said as he looked at the creature's tale. Clumsily, he got down on his stomach and turned so his head and shoulders hung over one side and his legs hung over the other. Then he wriggled one more quarter turn. As he started to sit up, the whale startled him with a snort just inches from his face. At the same time the whale's body started downward. Hang on! Alexander thought as he crouched, took a deep breath and lay forward with his chin pressed against the creature's flesh.

Down they went! The ocean water rushed over his head. Seconds later, they rose into the open air again and plunged among waves which swept over the whale's body and sometimes reached as high as Alexander's waist.

By now the speed of the whale and the distance they had gone from the shore left Alexander without hope of escape. He knew he had to hang on as long as possible to keep from being attacked. For the time being, the dangerous place would also be the safe place.

When the whale began to sink again, he gulped in more air and held it until they came up. Time and again the creature repeated this maneuver. As it completed a full circle around its mother Alexander had become so familiar with the routine that he almost enjoyed it.  Then came two snorts.

Alexander's face twisted. What does that mean?

The whale's body rose just a little more than usual and began to arch. Alexander eyes widened. His jaw dropped.

HE'S GOING TO DIVE!

With no time to yell, he filled his lungs, crouched and gripped the smooth body with his hands, arms, knees and feet.

I must NOT fall off!!! He told himself.

The whale plunged. The water pressure grew. Pitch darkness surrounded them. Just as Alexander wondered how far he would be taken, the body arched differently and began to rise. He could feel the huge tail working hard as the whale raced toward the surface.

Alexander fought to maintain his grip. His lungs felt like they would burst. Then the two of them exploded from the sea. He gasped for breath. In the next instant they tumbled.

AAAAAAAAGHHHHH! He yelled as he fell away from the whale and splashed into the water. Coughing, spitting and treading water, he looked en every direction. Then something touched his feet and lifted him upward.

"No WAY!" he exclaimed with a laugh as the whale gently brought him to the surface and waited for him to get comfortable.

"You're going to do that again aren't  you?" he guessed as the creature moved forward again. The body arched. Alexander braced himself and had just time enough to draw in fresh air before the plunge.

This time, when they burst out of the sea, Alexander did not fall off. When the dropped into the water, sheets of water sprayed in all directions. The impact knock him off balance, but before he had a chance to fall away the whale brought him gently up into the night air.

Breathing heavily, Alexander hurried to refresh his lungs. Then, he sat up. The mother whale glided some distance to his right. The whale beneath him sent up a soft, Shhhhhooooosh.

Still.trembling, Alexander patted him gently. In a nervous half whisper he asked, "Were you playing?"

Shhhhwoooooshhhhh

"It WOULD be nice to know," he said with a hint of sarcasm.

The whale's body dropped a little. Shhhhwoooooshhhhh

Alexander tensed. Then, smiling weakly, he said, "Sure, why not."


The whale settled a little more deeply. Water washed over its back.

Alexander leaned forward, took a deep breath and made himself say, "Go for it."

Once again they glided just beneath the surface. This time, though, Alexander felt something different - not something in the whale, but something inside himself. He thought, I wish I could really do stuff like this.

Then he remembered, Wherever you are, be there. As they rose into the open air he said out loud, Hey! I'm here...I'm doing this! Then he made himself laugh as  he tossed his head back and raised one hand like a cowboy on a horse.

The whale let off two geysers. "All RIGHT!" Alexander cheered dutifully, feeling the familiar arching of the huge body. Holding tight, he rode the whale downward in another deep dive and then upward...fast. This time when they burst into view, he yelled, "YeeeeeeHAAAAAA!" And he meant it.

With his fear fading, Alexander and the whale became a merry pair of cheering and snorting playmates in the moon-bathed Atlantic. Around and around they went with each dive bringing more confidence and fresh excitement. Only a couple more times did Alexander wonder if he would be dumped and devoured. In the center of all the action the mother floated easily as though enjoying the antics while making sure nothing got out of control.

Then...it was over. The whale did not dump him. Instead, it swam toward the shore.

"That was so much fun!" Alexander whispered as, slowly and maybe a little sadly, the beast glided between the breakwater and the almost totally submerged strip of sand. Alexander patted him, rubbed him and thanked him over and over for "everything." Then, as he prepared to slide off into the water, he noticed the man standing on the slender peninsula, silhouetted against the starry sky.