“You dirty old man.” Ted grinned and smacked Jack on the shoulder.
“Oh, back off.” Meagan defended Jack. “He just has a healthy curiosity.”
“At my age, I’ve not much else I can do in that department but look, so look I do. Be careful around William and Mary Island though. The only good anchorage in the Inlet is at Prince William Bay, but there’s some sort o’ research station there and them as runs it aren’t welcomin’ to strangers.”
****
The Straits of Georgia, Canada
For five days the Defiant worked her way north with some of the best weather Ted had seen in the northwest. Puffy white clouds rimmed the sky; the water reflected the deep blue above. Ten to fifteen knot winds raised a slight sea. The Defiant plowed through the waves like a spirited stallion.
Twice pods of dolphins came to play. Ted was so excited he almost fell overboard. Three of the black and white spotted dolphins glided alongside the sloop. It amazed Ted how they could move so fast without moving their tails. Three more surfaced just ahead of the boat and surfed in the bow wave.
In addition to dolphins, Ted spotted eagles, seals and sea lions. The scenery was equally spectacular. Snow-capped peaks dropped dramatically into the deep green water set against crystal blue skies.
The Straits of Georgia must be forty miles wide here, Ted thought to himself. Far to the west he could see the faint outline of Vancouver Island. Emerald islands popped up out of the shimmering water. From small, tree-covered rocks to large, populated islands with regular ferry service to the mainland, the variety was endless.
Princess Louisa Inlet took his breath away. It reminded Ted of an enchanted fairyland. Once they threaded the rapids at the entrance to the Inlet, it felt as though they were in a mountain lake. The stillness and isolation of the Inlet gave Ted the feeling of some kind of natural cathedral. Sheer walls of trees dropped sharply into the deep water. Chatterbox Falls poured into the fjord at the head of the Inlet. The late afternoon sun turned the water golden. Glaciered peaks marched off endlessly into the distance.
The fifth day out of Horseshoe Bay, they took the Defiant across the Straits to Campbell River on Vancouver Island. The sun abandoned them, but the winds increased to a steady twenty knots under gray skies. With reefed main, they held a single tack all day long.
****
Campbell River, Canada
Ted grumbled about cleaning up the breakfast dishes while Chris did his morning checks and got ready to get under way. Ted came on deck in time to see Meagan handle the dock lines as Chris pulled the Defiant away from the slip. How come she gets to do the manly stuff while the Mexican kid is stuck in the galley?
“Don’t you want the chart or the cruising guide?” Meagan asked as Chris piloted the boat out of the marina. “My dad never left the dock without at least a chart on deck.”
“It’s okay.” Chris tapped his forehead. “I went over them this morning. I’ve got them right here.”
Meagan seemed bothered, but Ted had endless faith in Chris’ ability to recall printed material. He had lived with him through four years of college.
Without a breath of wind, they motored up Discovery Passage, initially assisted by the flooding tide. Ted watched the way points pass by swiftly as they approached Race Point on the eastern shore of Vancouver Island, about two hundred miles north of Vancouver.
He felt pinned in by a heavy gray overcast that clung to the mountains on either side of the narrow passage. The placid water reflected the dull sky. Tree-covered land dropped off into the water in sheer cliffs. The further they progressed up the channel, the narrower it got, adding to Ted’s growing sense of claustrophobia.
“The tide’s changed.” Chris motioned towards at the GPS. “The current’s slowing us down now. The knot meter shows six knots but the GPS says that we’re only doing three.”
Ted didn’t pay much attention to the navigation stuff. That was Chris’ job.
“What time do you think we’ll get to Blind Channel Resort?” Meagan put down her Nora Roberts novel. “The Waggoner Cruising Guide says that there’s a good restaurant there.”
“Its about thirty miles. I’m thinking we can make it in six hours.”
“Should we call ahead and make a reservation?” Meagan asked.
Chris pulled his Blackberry out of his shorts pocket. “No can do. I’m not getting any reception out here.”
Time seemed to slow down. Ted felt like he could walk faster than the boat was traveling.
As they neared the Seymour Narrows Chris said, “There’s something wrong with the GPS. The little boat icon’s spinning around.”
“What’s the matter?” Meagan went around the steering wheel to look over his shoulder.
“Usually the little boat points in the direction we’re going.” The blue icon on the screen settled down. “Now it’s pointing due west even though we’re going north.”
“What could cause that?” Meagan wrapped her arms around Chris’ waist.
“I don’t know.” Chris was silent for a moment. “If it was magnetic, like the compass, I’d say that there was a local magnetic disturbance, but it runs off of satellite telemetry. At least our speed has picked up,” he added. “We’re doing over seven knots now.”
Ted’s anxiety meter inched up a notch. As they moved further into the narrows, he noticed a protected bay open up on their port side. The boat flew through the water, but the shore inched by. Ted’s sense of impatience grew. For the better part of an hour, Chris piloted the Defiant towards the light on the small island off the point. Where the channel made a hard right turn it narrowed to less than one hundred yards across.
The closer they came to the island, the more tide rips Ted began to see. Water tumbled over itself, looking like rapids in a river. “Hey, dude, you see that white water?” Ted felt goose bumps on his arm.
“Yeah, but the chart says that there’s deep water here. I think it’s just tide rips.” Chris didn’t sound too confident.
“There’s whirlpools forming over close to the island.” Ted’s spider sense went wild.
“I see ‘em. Jesus Christ.” Chris’ voice sped up. “We’ll stay out in the channel to avoid ‘em.”
“But that’s where the tides rip are.” Meagan sounded anxious too.
“It shouldn’t be much of a problem.” Chris took a deep breath.
The Defiant continued to plod towards the light on the point. Ted had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Something ain’t right here.
They were finally approaching the light. “Hey, Chris,” Ted’s voice rose slightly. “You think we’re doing okay? It seems like we’ve been up to this point before.”
Chris checked the GPS screen. “The GPS says we’re making five knots.”
It seemed to Ted like hours since they rounded Race Point. “We’re sure not makin’ much progress.” He pointed towards the island. “See that electrical tower on the hill? Line it up with the light on the point. It’s not moving. We’re not going anywhere.”
Suddenly a wall of white water rose up in front of the Defiant as if a giant hand pushed it up. Ted gasped to catch his breath, his stomach suddenly felt nauseous. “Look out!”
Chris swung the bow to port to avoid the tide rip. A whirlpool formed on their starboard side in a matter of seconds. “Jesus, you see how fast that whirlpool formed?” Despite the cool day, Chris wiped the sweat from his brow, his breathing shallow.
“It feels like we’re going backwards,” Meagan said.
“No, we’re making five knots.” Chris glanced at the GPS. “But the little boat is pointing due south. I wonder what’s wrong with this thing.” He gently tapped the GPS.
When Chris turned to avoid the tide rip, the current swept the Defiant away from the opening. Now they fought their way back to the light.
“I think we’re going to have to stay close to shore to get through the opening.” Chris had a determined look on his face.
“But that’s where the whirlpool
s are the worse.” Meagan responded.
“I know. The current in the middle of the channel is too strong. The whirlpools don’t look too big,” Chris pointed towards the whirlpools. “I think we’re just going to have to fight our way through them.”
He’s forcing it, Ted thought, I sure hope he knows what he’s doin’.
It took nearly an hour to work their way back to the light. This time, Chris was careful to keep close to shore.
“Look out!” Ted yelled. A whirlpool opened up on their starboard beam. In a matter of seconds, the water had gone from calm to a whirling funnel. The whirlpool rapidly moved towards the boat.
“Hold on,” Chris shouted as the Defiant lurched to port, spinning out of control.
Chapter 29
The Pacific Ocean, 400 nautical miles west of Vancouver Island
The green blip continued to move towards the center of the radar screen. Who was it? Could the American Coast Guard know we’re out here?
“Do you have cover story ready if we are boarded?” Yasim asked.
Ahmad nodded. If they were boarded, he would act as the captain. Yasim, with his heavy accent would remain silent. “Yes, we’re researchers investigating ocean currents.” Who’s going to believe that crap? Maybe they’ll just sink us and put me out of my misery.
“I will alert Mohammed and Kalil.” Yasim walked out the door. “Allah needs all of our eyes tonight.”
In less than an hour, the blip was near the center of the radar screen.
Ahmad quelled his stomach with an act of will and yelled out the pilot house window. “They should be off our right side, at two o’clock.”
“I don’t see any lights,” Mohammed replied.
“Yes, there he is.” Kalil pointed. “Look, a signal.”
Ahmad saw a flash of light off to his right, then a pause, then the light flashed again. The point of light in the darkness seemed to accentuate the rolling of the ocean. Ahmad’s stomach rebelled and he ran for the rail.
“Return signal,” Yasim ordered.
Mohammed pointed a powerful search light in the direction of the stranger and flashed his reply. Hani switched off the autopilot and headed for the light.
As Ahmad fought to control his stomach, the two vessels pulled closer together. Gradually, a battered old wreck emerged from the dark.
A voice shouted down in Arabic.
“It is Qayyum,” Yasim said. “I would recognize voice anywhere.”
Hani brought the fishing boat alongside the rusty freighter. The freighter’s crew dropped heavy hawser lines and Mohammed and Kalil made them fast.
Let them handle the rope. I’m just going to sit here and quietly die, Ahmad thought.
The voice shouted something in Arabic.
“He says stand by to receive the cargo,” Mohammed translated.
Mohammed and Kalil removed the hatch cover and Hani turned on the lights on deck and in the fish hold. Ahmad heard the sound of heavy machinery as a boom swung a bulging cargo net over the freighter’s side.
Protected by the freighter, it felt like they were on a mill pond. For the first time in two days, Ahmad’s stomach settled down to normal, but he felt physically drained.
The winches whirred and the cargo net descended into the Valkyrie’s fish hold. The crate hit the deck with a loud bump. Ahmad’s heart stopped.
“Careful with that,” Yasim shouted. “Could blow us all to paradise.”
Nothing happened. Ahmad realized that he hadn’t been breathing.
“Secure the crate and stand by for the next load,” Hani shouted.
The freighter hoisted the cargo net back to its deck, then lowered it again, this time with a pallet of smaller crates. Mohammed and Kalil secured them in the hold as well.
On the last trip to the Valkyrie’s deck, Ahmad saw a smallish man wearing a shimage and egal, the scarf and head band of the dessert Bedouins, cling to the outside of the cargo net.
The man said something in Arabic as he climbed free of the net. Yasim replied and embraced the stranger. “This Qayyum, he is truly Osama’s right hand.”
Ahmad could see moisture glistening in Yasim’s eyes.
Qayyum barked out a command.
Ahmad and Kalil stood motionless.
“He says cast off lines,” Yasim instructed. “Let us get away from infidel freighter as soon as possible.”
Mohammed was already untying the bow line.
As soon as Hani moved the Valkyrie out from the freighter’s lee, Ahmad’s stomach performed cartwheels. He bit his lip as Hani set the course due east, back to the Canadian shoreline.
“Do we know what our target is?” Ahmad gasped as Yasim joined them in the wheel house.
“Qayyum has not yet blessed me with information. We know as much as we need to know to do our part. All will be revealed in good time.”
****
The Seymour Narrows, Canada
Ted had never thought about dying before. Now, in the flash of an instant, he looked into the whirlpool and saw eternity spreading before him.
Chris spun the wheel hard to starboard but the Defiant didn’t answer. She kept spinning to port. Chris lost control of the boat in the small whirlpool. She heeled hard over, but popped right back up. Finally, the rudder took hold and Defiant straightened out.
“Jesus, dude,” Ted said, trying to control his fear. “Is this a good idea?” He scanned the water for the next disturbance, his heart beating wildly.
“Look at this.” Meagan returned on deck with the Waggoner’s Cruising Guide. “It says here that the currents in the Narrows run up to fourteen knots. It says that they should only be approached at slack water. What time was slack water?”
“About three hours ago.” Chris voice sounded tiny. “When we left Campbell River.”
“I think we should get out of here.” Meagan eyes burned with anger. “Can’t we go into Menzies Bay and anchor? We can wait for slack tide there.”
“I don’t think we’re going to make it through the Narrows.” Chris looked like all the fight had drained out of him. “What does the cruising guide say about the bay?”
Ted sensed a subtle shifting of power between the couple.
“What? You mean the Great Brain doesn’t remember?” Tears formed in Meagan’s eyes.
“I didn’t read about this area.” Chris’ voice was barely above a whisper.
“Fat lot of good that big brain of yours does if you don’t use it.” Meagan sniffled and thumbed through the thick book. “Menzies bay is a good anchorage. You have to work your way around a sand spit.”
“Let’s make our way across the narrows to the bay.” Chris’ face burned a bright pink.
“Dude, look behind you.” Ted pointed. “We have company.”
An orange rigid inflatable boat charged up behind the Defiant. They pulled alongside and signaled Chris to cut power.
“Oh shit,” Chris looked like a kid on Christmas morning that just discovered that he doesn’t have any presents. “The Coast Guard.”
“Where’re you heading?” the Coast Guardsman yelled across twenty feet of water.
“Menzies Bay,” Chris answered.
“You’re not trying to force the Narrows are you?” The Coast Guardsman spoke with broad movements of his arms to emphasize his words.
“No.” Chris yelled back and pointed. “We’re headed to Menzies Bay.”
“Good.” The Coast Guardsman talked to them like he thought they were stupid. “These narrows are really dangerous. The current runs at over fourteen knots.”
The inflatable fell back and Chris piloted the Defiant towards the bay. Ted watched the Coast Guard shadow them from about twenty yards behind.
The strong current pushed the Defiant sideways through the water as they tried to make their way across. Ted noticed that the bow pointed more and more into the current as they crabbed across the entrance to the Narrows.
“Oh shit. Now I get it.” Chris pointed at the GPS. “The boat is pointed in
the direction we’re making good over the bottom, not our compass course. When it was pointing backwards, we were going backwards over the bottom.”
“So there’s nothing wrong with it?” Meagan asked.
“No, there’s something wrong with the navigator.” Chris remained silent, brooding the rest of the way across the channel.
Meagan and Ted had the good sense not to intrude upon his dark thoughts.
“Cut your power.” The Coast Guard boat pulled even with them again, now that they were safely in the entrance to Menzies Bay and out of harm’s way. Chris followed their orders.
“The current in the Narrows runs at fourteen knots.” The Coast Guardsman yelled at Chris like he was some kind of idiot. “You can’t pass against the tide.”
“Yeah, we found out. We’re going to anchor here and wait for slack water.”
“Do you have a tide table aboard?”
“Yes.”
“Then use it. We get pretty tired of having to pick people out of the water up here. The next time you try something stupid, you might want to put on your life jackets and close the companionway hatch.”
The patrol boat spun on its keel and flew away in a spray of white water. Ted could feel Chris’ humiliation.
“Chris . . .” Meagan started.
“Don’t say a thing.” Chris held up his hands. “Either of you. Let’s just get inside the bay and anchor. I never want to talk about this again.”
Chapter 30
Port McNeil, Canada
After more than a week in the wilds of Canada, Port McNeil seemed like the big city to Ted. In reality, it was a small fishing village, clinging to the northeast shore of Vancouver Island. Sheltered by Malcolm Island to the east, white houses rose on the hills above the bay with larger, one and two-story commercial structures making their way down to the waterfront.
Chris and Ted lowered the main sail and took in the jib while Meagan drove. To Ted’s relief, the engine hadn’t missed a bat since Jack’s last fix. Christ brought the Defiant into her slip and Meagan and Ted leapt ashore with the mooring lines.
The Inside Passage (Ted Higuera Series Book 1) Page 14