The Inside Passage (Ted Higuera Series Book 1)

by Pendelton Wallace

  “We’ve already booked a room for you and Dad. This ship is like the fanciest floating hotel you can imagine.”

  “What about us?” Jenn broke in. “Did you book rooms for us yet?”

  “Evan’s mom can take the kids,” Trish added. “I’m sure she’ll take Johnny and Amy too.”

  “I’m sorry.” Candace dreaded this moment. “You all can’t come. We could only get one extra room.” Silence fell on her sisters. Trish stared at her open-mouthed.

  “What’s a matter,” Jenn snapped. “Are you ashamed of us?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. This cruise was really a big deal. Harry could only swing two state-rooms.”

  “Right. Someone as important as he is could only get two rooms. What is he, a cheap-O?”

  “Trish! Hush up. We’re lucky that any of us can be there. I’m sure there’ll be other times for you.” Mom always came to Candace’s aid against her sisters. After all, Candace was her baby.

  “What about maid of honor?” Trish asked. “Who’s going to be the maid of honor if we aren’t there?”

  Candace gulped. This was the biggest bomb of all. “I . . . ah . . . Well, actually, I asked Sarah?”

  “Sarah?” Jenn put down her coffee cup and stared at Candace.

  “Harry’s daughter. He’s taking her on the trip too.”

  “I thought you said he could only get two rooms.” Jenn got up from the table and noisily slammed her dishes down on the drain board. “What? Is little Sarah going to share the honeymoon suite?”

  “Three, I meant three. I forgot about Sarah for a minute.”

  “So, he can get a room for her but not for us? You’re taking a stranger for a bridesmaid over your sisters?” Trish tapped a spoon against the rim of her coffee cup.

  “I’m really sorry you guys, but I had to. I’ve got to try to win Sarah over. I thought that if I included her in the wedding, she’d accept me more. I have to have an ally in that family. Harry’s son can’t stand to be in the same room as me.”

  “Let’s see a picture of your dress, sweetie.” Mom always had a way of turning away from unpleasant topics.

  Candace spread five photos on the kitchen table. “Here are the one’s I’m considering.”

  “I don’t like this one,” Jenn said. “I don’t like anything strapless.”

  “That’s because you don’t have anything to hold it up.” Trish was still in a pissy mood. “Candace isn’t built like me, but at least she’s got enough up top to keep it from falling down.”

  Jenn glared at her older sister, but didn’t respond.

  Good, Candace thought, maybe she’s learned not to take the bait.

  “With Candy’s figure, she can wear anything,” Mom cut into the argument. “I like this one the best.”

  “Me too, Mom. I’ve been really leaning that way.”

  Chapter 26

  Montague Harbor, Galliano Island, Canada

  The wind continued to howl and the rain poured down. Little leaks began to appear around the hatch covers and windows in the Defiant’s cabin.

  By the second morning of their confinement, Meagan was in a lousy mood.

  “Who left the toilet seat up?” She glared at Ted. “I nearly fell in last night.”

  “Hey, chica, I don’t ask you to leave it up for me,” Ted said. “Why should I put it down for you?”

  “You guys could show some consideration.” She reached for a mug and grabbed the coffee thermos. “Besides, don’t you ever rinse the sink out? Every time I go into the bathroom, it’s full of your hair.”

  “Head. It’s a head, not a bathroom.” Chris looked up from the chart table.

  “God damn you, too! You could show a little support.”

  ****

  Ted didn’t like day three any better. His only solace was that he hadn’t had to listen to the sound of Chris and Meagan doing the horizontal mambo last night.

  To make matters worse, Meagan’s crazy cat picked up the general mood. He was snippety and surly all day. To Ted’s amusement, when Meagan reached out to pet him, he snapped at her. Ted wasn’t amused when the cat got up from his perch in the pilot berth, methodically walked across the cabin, jumped up on the galley counter, reached out defiantly and scratched Ted.

  “Jesus Christ, what’s gotten into your damned cat?”

  “He’s just showing his good taste.”

  “Bro, we gotta get outta here,” Chris growled.

  Ted noticed that the whistling of the wind in the rigging had died down, but the rain continued to fall. “Fine by me. I never minded a little rain.”

  “If we sit around here one more day,” Chris went on, “I think we’ll turn to cannibalism.”

  “You big strong boys go up and play with your boat.” Meagan turned her back on the men. “I still have some magazines to read.”

  Ted climbed into this rain gear and followed Chris onto the deck. A stiff breeze out of the southwest flung the rain against his face. He tightened down his hood, pulled on his sailing gloves and made his way forward.

  ****

  The salt air smelled clean and clear. Two islands guarded the opening to the land-locked harbor. Ted gazed at the shore, above the tide lines tall firs disappeared into the mist. Wisps of cloud weaved in and out of the hills. It reminded him of something out of a King Arthur legend.

  “We’re going to sail the anchor out,” Chris shouted up to him. “I don’t trust the engine.”

  Favoring his sore shoulder, Ted managed to haul in the anchor line. “Anchor’s free,” he called back to Chris.

  “Get ‘er up quickly.”

  The Defiant picked up the wind.

  Ted made the anchor fast, then returned to the cockpit where, under Chris’ direction, he set the jib. The Defiant surged forward and Chris headed for the harbor entrance.

  “Ah, Chris, aren’t you getting a little close to those rocks?” Ted asked calmly as Chris held his course through the narrower of the two channels out of the harbor.

  “We’re cool, bro. I only want to have to tack once in the passage.”

  Ted felt the sweat inside his raingear as the rocks loomed closer and closer off the starboard beam.

  “Prepare to come about,” Chris finally shouted. “Helm’s a lee.”

  Ted stood by with the jib sheets as Chris put the Defiant’s bow through the wind.

  “Let go and haul.”

  Ted flipped the sheet off of the starboard winch and began to haul in on the port sheet like a madman. The rocks swept closer and closer.

  To Ted’s relief, the Defiant handled the maneuver like a thoroughbred. Quickly passing through the wind and settling down on the opposite tack, she surged away from the rocks and towards the open sea.

  The three-day storm left a heavy sea and drizzly rain in its wake. Ted looked up to see seagulls scudding beneath the low-flying clouds. Visibility limited to a mile or so, the vast chain of islands to port was lost in a rain squall.

  “Meg, get up here,” Chris shouted.

  Ted’s head swiveled to see what his friend was shouting about.

  ****

  William and Mary Island, Canada

  “Everything is arranged.” Yasim climbed stiffly out of the rigid inflatable boat. “We leave tonight.”

  He’s too old for this kind of work, Ahmad thought as he pulled the boat up onto the beach. “Did you get the coordinates for the rendezvous?”

  “Here.” Yasim handed him an envelope.

  ****

  After dark, the Valkyrie steamed down the fjord and north into the Queen Charlotte Strait until she finally rounded the northern tip of Vancouver Island in the early morning hours. Daylight found her alone on the North Pacific. For two days she steamed due west.

  ****

  “We should be at the rendezvous in an hour,” Ahmad said as Yasim joined Hani and him in the pilot house. Perched on top of the deck house, the pilot house had an expanse of windows all around. Hani held onto the spokes of the big teak wheel, whi
le Ahmad clung to a brass hand rail on the dashboard. Electronic equipment filled the forward end of the compartment. Behind them a chart table overflowed with yellow sea charts, cruising guides, tide tables and navigation equipment.

  Ahmad’s stomach hadn’t been right since they entered the open ocean. He caught a glimpse of himself reflected in the deckhouse windows, his complexion various shades of green. He tossed up everything he tried to eat. For the last two days he existed solely on bottled water and soda crackers. What am I doing out here? My heritage is the open desert.

  A tiny light over the compass and the ghostly glow from the electronic instruments provided the only illumination in the pilot house. They floated on a sea of black. The three-day storm that swept across the North Pacific had left behind a large swell and drizzling rain. In the rain and dark, he couldn’t see beyond the bow of the boat.

  “Good, keep sharp look out.” Yasim cradled a cup of tea in his calloused hands. “They won’t be showing light. Allah be praised that we have heavy cloud cover.”

  “They’re big enough that they should make a good blip on the radar.” Ahmad clung to the hand rail. The cursed boat wouldn’t stay still for a moment.

  “Have you heard anything more from Coast Guard cutter?” Yasim asked.

  Early in the day, Ahmad had heard an American Coast Guard cutter broadcasting in the general area.

  “Do you know where is?” Yasim walked to the chart table and studied the pencil marks drawn by Hani indicating their progress.

  “No,” Hani’s eyes were fixed on the GPS screen and the compass. “We haven’t heard anything else since the first broadcast.”

  Ahmad felt a flash of resentment for his broad-chested friend. How can he not be affected by the boat’s motion?

  “I got a fix on them then.” Ahmad choked down the bile in his throat. “They were three-hundred-twenty kilometers southeast.” What are we doing way out here? Does anyone know? What else could go wrong with this miserable mission?

  “Could they have come this far since then?”

  “Yes.” Ahmad had trouble concentrating. His stomach commanded all of his attention. “Hani tells me that they’re more than twice as fast as we are.” Why is Yasim not afflicted? No one else in the cell seemed to feel the effects of the boat’s motion.

  “I would truly like to know where is, what is doing way out here.” Yasim tapped on the chart with a pair of dividers, holding onto a grab rail with the other hand to keep his balance as the boat rolled.

  Within an hour, Ahmad saw the first blip on the green radar screen. Focusing on a fixed point made his stomach churn.

  “Look, there it is.”

  “But do we know who is?” Yasim crowded next to Ahmad at the screen. “Is freighter or American Coast Guard?”

  Chapter 27

  The Straits of Georgia

  “Sweet! They’re beautiful. Where’s my camera?” Meagan dashed below.

  Twenty yards off their starboard beam, a pod of orcas surfaced so close Ted could see their nostrils open as they exhaled into the misty air. Their warm breath vaporized as it hit the cold air giving it the appearance of blowing water from their spouts.

  Meagan fumbled about with her lenses, missing most of the action.

  Dios mió, those are powerful animals. Ted watched the pod surge through the water, their tall dorsal fins cutting the heavy air. They moved without effort as they leapt forward. Their distinctive black and white markings glistened in the weak morning light.

  “You can hear them blow!” Meagan finally seated the lens on her camera. “They sound like big dogs.”

  The sting of cold water slapped Ted’s face as the pod‘s leader sounded, flew up out of the water, stood on his tail for an instant, then splashed down, sending a tidal wave of water towards the boat.

  “Oh God, I got that shot. I got it!”

  “For a city girl,” Chris said. “You sure get wound up about animals.”

  “They’re totally awesome. They’re like totally powerful and free.” Meagan clicked off picture after picture.

  As if at a signal, the pod sounded together.

  “Where’d they go?”

  “I don’t know.” Chris scanned the water. “They can stay down for fifteen minutes. They may be done with us.”

  Minutes later, Chris pointed to a rippling on the surface of the water. “Thar she blows.” He flinched as an orca surfaced right next to the boat.

  “My God, they’re almost as big as the boat,” Meagan yelled.

  The pod completely surrounded the Defiant.

  ****

  They were a happy ship again. The excitement of the orcas carried the crew through the rest of the morning. With a steady fifteen-knot wind out of the northwest, the Defiant sailed towards Horseshoe Bay.

  By early afternoon, they threaded their way through the crowd of pleasure boats in Queen Charlotte Channel.

  “Everybody needs to be on the alert,” Chris said as they approached Vancouver, BC. “There’s a lot of boats in the vicinity. If you see something coming towards us, let me know. I might not see it.”

  Meagan leaned back with her arms wrapped around the lifelines while Ted looked up from his computer manual.

  “Look out for that blue ship.” Meagan pointed.

  “Got it.” Chris said. A blue and white super ferry loomed off their port bow.

  “Where’re the guard boats?” Meagan searched the area with the binoculars.

  “This is Canada.” Chris fell off slightly to starboard. “They must not feel threatened up here.”

  “Yeah.” Ted added. “There’s never been a terror attack against Canada. They’re a quiet little country. They mind their own business and don’t piss nobody off.”

  Meagan put the binoculars back into their holder. “I’d expect them to be as prepared as we are. If there’s a terrorist threat in the US, they should be worried too, don’t you think?”

  “Canada’s a lot mellower about that kind of stuff.” Chris’ eyes shifted between the vessel traffic and the sails. “Just look at the border crossing. Remember how easy it was? Wait ‘til you see what we have to go through when we come back into the US.”

  The crew’s mood perked up even further when the rain stopped and the sun broke through the clouds as they entered Horseshoe Bay. The low afternoon rays painted the ripples on the water golden. A low point of land jutted out into the channel from the hilly mainland on the north shore of the Fraser River.

  The marina, nestled in a bight in the end of the point, had a few floats filled with boats at the height of the cruising season. A fuel dock, the government dock and ferry terminal crowded the waterfront, and motels, restaurants and other tourist attractions spread out behind.

  Ted scanned the floats for an empty slip.

  “Oh look.” Meagan dropped the fenders over the side. “It’s the Nessie.”

  The old double-ended salmon troller lay tied to the outside float.

  “Let’s raft up alongside Jack.” Ted said. “He ought to be good for a few stories.”

  Chris brought the Defiant alongside the Nessie under the jib sail alone. “Cast off the jib sheets.” He rounded up neatly and glided alongside.

  “Well done, Laddie.” Jack yelled across the water as he took Meagan’s bow line. Robby barked in excitement.

  Ted jumped over the life lines onto the Nessie’s deck and secured the stern line. Robby licked at his hands as he tied off the line.

  “It looks like yer learning to handle that big old boat, Laddie. What happened to yer engine?”

  “We’re still having the same problem.” Chris furled the jib. “The guy at Customs told us that there was a good mechanic here.”

  “Aye, that there is, if yer pockets are full o’ gold. Get settled down, then let old Jack have another look at it. Maybe I c’n find something else.”

  ****

  “Well, this might be the problem, Lad.” Jack’s head popped up out of the lazarette. “Y’ have a screen over the pickup
tube in yer fuel tank. Over the years, y’ve accumulated so much gunk in the bottom of the tank that it gets sucked up against the screen and clogs it up. After a couple o’ hours, it’s so messy that no fuel can get through.

  “Y’ have two fuel filters on this engine. I suggest that we remove the screen and let the filters do their work. Y’ can easily change a filter when it gets dirty.”

  Chapter 28

  Horseshoe Bay, Canada

  Jack joined them for coffee the next morning. With his mass of bushy gray hair and beard, and his little round body, he reminded Ted of a big cuddly koala bear.

  “An’ where are yez headed next?” Jack asked.

  “I guess we’ll just keep making our way north.” Chris spooned sugar into his coffee. “We want to see Princes Louisa Inlet and Desolation Sound.”

  Jack smacked his lips when he sipped his coffee. Mama always said that was bad manners. Oh well, Ted thought. Everybody has their shortcomings.

  “Beautiful spots, children, beautiful.”

  “We’re going to go further north, all the way up Vancouver Island.” Meagan sat down next to Jack at the table in the main saloon.

  “Ah, then when yez reach the Broughton’s y’ must make yer way to Nelson Inlet. It’s a long fjord that makes its way north east of Broughton Island. Not many boats go up there, there’s not much t’ see besides cliffs and trees.”

  “Then why go there?” Ted asked.

  “At the head of the inlet, Laddie, there’s the nicest hot springs y’ve ever seen. God’s own piece of paradise.”

  “Wow, a hot springs?” Meagan leaned forward. “Can we swim in it?”

  “Aye, that y’ can, lass.” Jack’s face crinkled into a smile. “That’s the attraction.” Jack’s voice took on a conspiratorial tone. “The tradition is, that y’ skinny dip in it. I’ve whiled away many a pleasant afternoon in the rocks over the hot springs watchin’ the young people frolic around in the buff.”