While Meri stashed the yo-yo away, Ben took his knife, lifted the gill cover, and cut through the gill arch. This let the large fish bleed out. Once the bleeding stopped, he proceeded to gut and clean it. All the offal went overboard, to either float or settle in the wake behind the boat. Rather than fillet the large fish, he cut long strips from its sides, which he draped them over the netting between the canoe and the outrigger. Not all of the strips made it to the net; he handed a few out to the others, asking, “Sushi, anyone?”
Eventually, one side of the fish was cleaned of all its flesh, and Ben asked Karen to hand him the solar oven and grill. “Time to make some lunch,” he announced, unfolding the compact insulated box. Setting it so the opening was facing south, which was still to port, he put the grill insert in and then loaded the grill with flesh strips. Taking the tempered glass cover out of the oven’s carry bag, he carefully secured it to the stove.
“Give it a couple hours and we’ll have some cooked tuna.”
“Make sure they’re done before nightfall,” Karen said. “I want everything packed up and secured before it gets dark.”
“Roger, that,” Ben replied. Removing the glass, he drizzled salt water over the fish, then replaced the oven glass. “That oughta give it at least a little flavor.”
The next several hours passed uneventfully. Bill continued to sit in the bow, turned around so he could talk with Meri and Ben. Ben monitored the solar oven while Karen napped in the aft.
At what they guessed was noon local time, Bill dug out the sextant and “shot the sun”: took measurements of the sun’s location relative to them. This allowed him to determine their latitude. They hadn’t moved too far south, yet.
Looking at his chronograph, he did a quick calculation on their longitude, recognizing that it was only a rough calculation, as he wasn’t sure of the exact time. This was due to the stability, or lack thereof, of his platform: the canoe.
He told the others their approximate location, summing it up with, “close enough for Corps work.”
As the three sat there, with the swells causing the vessel to bob up and down and the wind keeping the parachute sail taut, the talk turned to home.
The four had gotten to know each other fairly well during their initial survey of Planet 42, but most of the time it was talking from a distance. Ben would usually be in the pilot’s seat, or napping; Meri in the co-pilot’s seat, or napping; and Bill and Karen buried in their remote sensing workstations further back in the plane. Or napping. A week at a time airborne didn’t leave a crew of four much time to do anything but work and nap. Sleep, as in a full eight hours straight, without interruption, was not on the agenda when flying an Initial Survey.
The week off was usually spent apart from each other — well, except for Bill and Meri, who shared a small apartment on Sacajawea Base. Ben lived in another small apartment on the Corps’ main base, but he was seldom in it, spending most of his time off exploring Hayek and dating a variety of non-Corps women. Karen lived on base with her husband and two-year-old boy, Jeff, whom she called Jeffy (and whom her husband, Tran, referred to as “the mutt” due to his mixed Vietnamese-English heritage and her Norwegian heritage). Tran was another Explorer, a flight instructor operating on Bowman Field, the main airfield on Sacajawea Base. Bill had learned that the Corps policy was to ensure no children were left orphaned, so every Explorer couple had at least one parent remaining in a nondeployed role.
Now that they were crammed into a smaller vessel than the Monarch, and with a lot more time on their hands, the crew opened up to each other more.
Bill had known that Ben and Karen were from Earth, but he didn’t know much about their backgrounds. Ben was from somewhere on the Chesapeake Bay in Virginia but had gone to school in North Dakota. It was supposedly a great flight school where Ben earned his bachelor’s degree in Aeronautical Science.
Karen was another refugee from the military, having been in the U.S. Army working with geographic information systems. She was seconded out to the National Geospatial Defense Agency where she got more involved in remote sensing systems.
Ben told them of growing up in the small town of Quantico, south of Washington, DC.
“Yeah, it was a pretty nice town, but it went from a small town to a bedroom community of DC, and that pretty much destroyed its character,” he lamented.
“When I was a kid it was mainly farms and fields, but as I grew up they became crowded tract homes. My dad says it was even better when he was growing up back in the ‘80s. It just got worse and worse as the population grew.”
Like many other Explorers from Earth, Ben was escaping the crowded conditions, pollution, overpopulation, and the increased regulations and the government controls that had come with the War on Terror and the Iranian War.
Ben had known that Bill graduated from the University of Washington with a degree in geography, which is where he learned GIS and remote sensing, but he was surprised to find out that Bill had grown up all over the place.
Bill explained how his widowed father, a lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Air Force, had been moved from base to base every two years. That’s probably what got Bill interested in geography. That, and the fact that the Corps of Discovery was actively recruiting those who specialized in GIS and remote sensing, along with a whole host of other specialties necessary for the exploration of parallel planets.
Bill rattled off the list of locations he had lived; he had them memorized in order. It was a common question. With the exception of northern Virginia, when ‘The Colonel’, as Bill thought of him, was stationed at the Pentagon, all the other locations were air bases that housed fighter squadrons.
Meri was different than the others, not only because she was the only native-born Hayeker on the crew, but because her father, now Bill’s father-in-law, was the Commandant of the Corps of Discovery. She was also the only one to have graduated from one of Hayek’s universities, earning a degree in Exploration Science.
As they sailed, Meri told them some of the stories her father had told her about his time as an Explorer conducting surveys over twenty years ago.
“They didn’t even have much in the way of digital data — almost everything was actual film and photographs,” she said in amazement. Bill had trouble grasping that fact, considering he had grown up in the digital age and regarded a terabyte as a small amount of storage.
“He’s the one who actually designed our rifle,” she told them. “It was based off of a concept called the ‘scout rifle’ by some Earther. But, from what I hear, Dad’s version is a whole lot better.”
The two men agreed.
Meri told them how her father would be gone for weeks at a time, and, since her mother had died in childbirth she had been raised mainly by her aunt and uncle, neither of whom were in the Corps. Her uncle was in the construction business and had built a number of the buildings in Milton and Tahoma.
“Of course, when Dad was home, I stayed with him. It wasn’t until I was almost a teenager that he took over as Commandant, and I lived at home with him until I graduated.”
“Why didn’t you live on campus?” Ben asked, puzzled.
“Oh, campus living is limited, and restricted mainly to those who have to travel in from the hinterlands. Since I lived on Sacajawea, it was only a short ride on the sky train to campus.”
Karen woke up during the conversation, but sat there listening. Eventually, she reminded Ben of the cooking tuna. Sure enough, it was ready to eat, and Ben had each Explorer get one of their canteen cups. As the cup was passed to him, he would grab a piece of fish and quickly put it in the cup. After each piece, he would dip his hand in the ocean to cool off the fingers, then repeat the process.
Karen had Bill dig into one of the handmade baskets and pass out pieces of rock samphire.
“Let’s not play old time navy and get scurvy,” she said. “Everyone eat something green.” Looking directly at Ben, she emphasized, “and that don’t mean your boogers.”
�
��Why are you looking at me?” he asked, shoving an index finger up his nose to the “Ew’s” and “Gross” from the others, before washing his hand in the ocean with a grin on his face.
The crew ate quietly, using the sporks they usually kept in their pockets. As they chewed, Meri remarked on how good a job Ben had done, especially salting the fish with ocean water.
“That really adds a nice touch,” she said.
Ben took the compliment in stride. “Well, I do come from a long line of short cooks,” he quipped.
Naturally, that got him groans from the others.
After supper, Karen had the crew clean their cups and utensils with salt water, but made sure they kept everything within the confines of the boat with the exception of the cup used to scoop water. The only way to sanitize anything was with the solar oven and the decision was made to not bother. “Just make sure you’ve licked all the food off and then rubbed it off with salt water,” she cautioned.
Drinking water was rationed, and any used was immediately replaced by either the solar still or one of the hand-pumped desalinizers. Karen made the executive decision to retrieve and extract all fresh water from the solar still before nightfall. There was no reason to leave a solar-powered still deployed when there was no solar energy to fuel it.
The first night sailing, Karen had the crew resume the two-on six-off schedule. It was similar to the watch schedule they had been running ashore since crash landing. Nobody would actually get a full straight eight hours of sleep, but it would be close enough.
Bill was given the first watch, to begin at sunset, and he would pass it on to Meri, two hours later. Special care had to be taken to mark the start time as his chronograph, as were Ben’s and Meri’s, was still set to Alpha time, the local noontime in Milton, while Karen’s was set to local noontime at their crash location, so they could accurately determine longitude while sailing.
They were still far enough north that despite it being late June, the nights would cool off. Each crew member dug out their individual summer sleeping bag to use with a poncho, which they would wrap around them to keep spray and water that pooled in the bottom of the canoe from soaking them. Before deploying their poncho/sleeping bag combos, the crew used their canteen cups to scoop out what little water was in the canoe.
Karen also made sure that everyone understood that for safety’s sake they would all be required to keep a rope tied between them and the boat at all times at night.
“I don’t want anyone disappearing overboard at night. I don’t care how uncomfortable it is, you wear it. Even taking a dump or leak. Got it?” she asked pointedly.
All agreed, and Bill made a comment that would continue for the rest of the journey. “Don’t like it? Suck it up, cupcake.”
“Exactly!” said Karen.
As the sun set over the western horizon, the stars started making their appearance. Bill had a rudimentary astronomical knowledge, having studied sufficiently to qualify for a secondary duty as Navigator with the Corps. Of course, the first star he looked for was the North Star. He definitely didn’t want to put the SS Guppy on a reverse course by mistake. As long as he kept the North Star off the starboard side, he figured they’d be fine.
Soon Bill was alone, the rest snoring quietly — or not so quietly, in Ben’s case. Bill sat and enjoyed the solitude, gazing with wonder at the heavens above him filled with a multitude of stars, unlike anything he ever saw from Earth. Even on a week-long backpacking trip to Philmont Boy Scout Ranch in New Mexico, he never saw skies like this. The Milky Way wasn’t an ephemeral wisp, as seen from Earth, but a wide ribbon of diamonds cutting through the night sky. It was something he had only seen since migrating to Hayek barely a year ago.
The next two weeks passed uneventfully. After turning southwest after the first night, they sailed toward the equator for another five days, then turned east when they hit the trade winds at around 20 degrees north. From there it was a straight shot west, being pushed along by both the winds and the North Equatorial Current.
The days became hot. The sun beat down on them, the only relief being the occasional cloud or brief squall. The squalls, while wild and windy, were always welcome, giving the crew the opportunity to bathe with something other than salt water and lessened the incessant heat.
Dolphins came up to the boat often and surfed in its small wake. It seemed that the oceans were teeming with wildlife, from fish to mammals.
Each day was pretty much the same. One of them would fish in the morning, and whatever was caught was cooked in the solar oven. Bill’s favorite turned out to be red snapper, which they caught plenty of once they turned west. Meals usually consisted of fish and either rock samphire or sea lettuce, until the greens ran out; then it was just fish and their daily multi-vitamin, which Karen was adamant about them taking. It was the only way to get a sufficient quantity of vitamin C into their systems to prevent scurvy.
They spent the days chatting or sitting quietly staring off to the horizon, carving their paddles or working on the bows and arrows they intended to use once they made landfall. Sometimes one would climb out on the net to sprawl out and escape the narrow confines of the canoe. The biggest hurdle facing them now was boredom and the unrelenting heat and humidity of the shadeless tropical ocean. They didn’t even get the luxury of having the wind in their faces, as the wind was pushing them, and could hardly be felt.
Karen, thinking of the future, had them working to create salt by putting seawater into their mess kits. They kept adding water and letting it evaporate until each had a pan full of salt. This would be used for meals and salting hides for clothing.
Going to the bathroom proved to be an exercise in diplomacy for all. With no restroom stalls, they developed a method of climbing out onto the net and hanging off the rear, supporting themselves by hand on the outrigger and safety rope attached to the canoe. The limited toilet paper retrieved from the Monarch was used sparingly, and only for certain activities (the concept of a saltwater douche became very in vogue for all). Privacy was obtained by those in the boat facing away from the participant.
Meri, despite her red hair, managed to tan, while Karen, with much fairer skin, sported a perpetual sunburn and peeling nose. Bill was fortunate in that his base tan was strong enough that he browned more than he burned.
On the sixth day at sea, they ran out of the coffee from the Monarch’s small galley. All the coffee that remained was in the few flight rats and the field rations they had packed. Karen vetoed opening the rations just so the crew could get coffee, so for the next two days, everyone suffered through caffeine withdrawal. Ben and Bill were hit the hardest, both winding up with migraines. Bill had heard of them but never experienced one before. He hoped never to do so again.
Finally, ten days after turning west, land was spotted. Ben was the first to see it, noticing the clouds on the horizon with underbellies tinted green.
“Land ho!” he yelled from the bow.
“Where?” Karen asked.
“Yonder,” Ben replied, pointed to the southwest.
All heads turned and then Bill saw what had drawn Ben’s attention. As all they could see were the clouds, Bill knew that they were at least twenty kilometers from land, and probably closer to fifty. With any luck at all, we’ll be there in two or three hours, he thought.
Meri, at the tiller, started turning the vessel without any command from Karen. None was needed. They all knew that the first land they spotted would be where they made landfall, if for no other reason than to get out of the cramped quarters for a day or so.
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Bill was correct in his guesstimate, as mountains were finally spotted an hour later. They approached the unknown island after less than two more hours had passed.
“I’m thinking this is either Hispaniola or Carib,” he said. “I’ll know more once we land.”
As they approached the island, they sailed along it looking for a spot where a river fed into the ocean, eventually finding one in a small shelte
red bay. Karen ordered the crew to sail toward it. Once they were within one hundred meters Karen had them drop the sail and take up paddles. They paddled the remaining distance, finally beaching the outrigger to the side of the small river.
Karen ordered Bill and Meri to get their rifles out while Ben secured the craft to a nearby palm tree. The boat bobbed in the gentle surf while the two complied and Ben waited. Finally, the two were armed, rifles loaded and at the ready. Only then did Ben jump out of the vessel into the surf.
Wading ashore, he tied the rope to the biggest palm tree within reach.
“Looks like the tide’s coming in,” he announced after looking around. The prior high tide had left a line of flotsam, with dry sand between it and the water.
“Bill, you and Meri keep watch, one from the boat and one from the shore,” Karen said. “I’ll hand Ben our equipment. Let’s see about setting up camp and getting some fresh food and water. And keep an eye out for any signs of people. I want to avoid contact if there are any here.”
Bill slipped his handmade moccasins off, then his pants, and with rifle in hand, jumped over the side into the shallow water. Wading ashore, he kept his rifle at the ready and head on a swivel. New planets and new lands were always a hazard.
While the two kept watch, Karen handed equipment and supplies out to Ben. Soon all the equipment and the diminished supplies were ashore in a pile. Karen grabbed another rope attached to the middle of the canoe and handed it to Ben to tie to another tree.
“Don’t wanna lose our only ticket out of here,” she said.
Once all the supplies and people were ashore, Karen outlined the plan of action.
“First, let’s fill our water supplies and then get clean. Meri, you and Bill are already pulling guard duty, so you’ll get to do so for a while longer. Ben, you and I’ll fill all the water containers and then we’ll bathe and do laundry. And don’t forget the soap!”
The Corps of Discovery Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3: A multiverse series of alternate history Page 36