AUTHOR’S NOTE
First off, a note about the name of the marina: it really is called Shilshole Bay Marina and yes, I know how it gets mispronounced. Everyone who makes that joke thinks they’re the first to notice how easy it is to mistake that first L for a T. But in fact, it’s not a silly slip of the tongue; it’s a name the Duwamish people gave the area that means “threading a needle” and probably referred to getting your fishing canoe through the once-narrow opening between the bluffs and mudflats on the way to Salmon Bay, just east of the present-day Hiram M. Chittenden Locks. So, you can stop sniggering now and get on to the next bit.
As always, I borrowed from real events and places as much as possible and faked it where I had to. I did my best on the Spanish for Solis’s family, but had to rely heavily on help from Spanish-speaking friends and my copy editor, who stepped in at the final stage and fixed my errors. Anything incorrect, stupid, bass-ackward, or outright wrong is all my fault. Now, on to the research!
There are persistent tales that a ghost ship haunts the Strait of San Juan de Fuca, near the southwestern tip of Vancouver Island, and, of course, I couldn’t resist looking into them for this book. But I hadn’t really expected to find a real-life story behind them as chilling as the tale of the S.S. Valencia. Accounts of the sinking of the steamship vary in some details and can be a little contradictory and confusing but all agree it was a tragic and harrowing event. I actually played down some of the facts and historic descriptions, since the reality was so terrible as to seem surreal, with accounts of women and children freezing in the rigging and so on. The captain’s and navigator’s errors may account for some of what went wrong, but a lot was plain bad luck, fear, and bad timing—like the first landing party turning the wrong way and the crew making only one attempt to shoot a line onto the cliffs without recalibrating the gun sight and trying again. It’s true, however, that the only surviving lifeboat was lost for twenty-seven years and the big ship’s wreck remains at the foot of Pachena Point (sometimes referred to as Cape Beale or Beale’s Point in the historic records) to this day. The section of hiking trail that passes the ill-fated ship is sometimes referred to as Valencia Bluffs in honor of the wreck below. Memorials to the passengers and crew have been erected near the wreck site on Vancouver Island’s West Coast Trail and in Seattle’s Mount Pleasant Cemetery on Queen Anne Hill. You can learn more about the sinking of the Valencia online (HistoryLink.org being one of my favorite sites, though the article at Wikipedia is surprisingly good) and at the Maritime Museum of British Columbia in Victoria, B.C., where the nameplate from lifeboat number five is on display. But I’ll warn you: If you thought my descriptions went a bit too far, you may find some of the historic record stomach turning; those old-time reporters and sailors had some creepy turns of phrase.
I didn’t make up the Graveyard of the Pacific, either. North America’s upper West Coast does, indeed, have a sinister history and there are plenty of rusting wrecks you can still visit up close or spot from a cliffside vantage point along the coasts of northern California, Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia. Most have less-horrifying tales attached than the Valencia, but a few are the stuff of nightmares. It’s also true that the mouth of the Columbia River is a place of danger where boats are damaged or capsized with frightening regularity. The United States Coast Guard maintains a lighthouse and rescue station on the Washington side of the river mouth at Cape Disappointment—aptly named—specifically to keep watch over the treacherous Columbia Bar. And, yes, you can see the silt plume from orbit. There’s a nice scientific explanation for why the area is so dangerous at Oregon State University’s Ocean and Air Magazine Web site (http://oceanandair.coas.oregonstate.edu/index.cfm?fuseaction=content.display&page ID=85) if you want to know more.
All the locations mentioned in the book are real (even the obscure and tiny Neil Bay), including the islands, coves, harbors, and waterways Harper and her friends visit while aboard the Mambo Moon. The northern Puget Sound around the San Juan Islands is so well-known for its bizarre tidal currents that a special “current almanac” exists for the area that shows the directions and strength of the prevailing currents for any day or time you need. On boating trips around the islands, I’ve witnessed and been aboard light sailboats with full sail on and engine engaged standing still and even going backward in the grip of the adverse currents, which can move at greater than eight knots there. It’s a tricky place to travel by boat, but since there’s ferry service to only three of the islands, there’s no other choice if your destination lies on an island other than Vancouver, Orcas, or San Juan.Despite the perverse currents and twisting passages, the San Juans are a wonderful place to visit. Most of the area is protected as U.S. or Canadian parkland, and it’s breathtaking. The water is a deep clear blue, and small towns and villages among the islands offer delightful tourist opportunities, while the uninhabited islands are home to natural beauty and a haunting sense of isolation difficult to find so close to civilization. And there are other stories to be found in the San Juans, such as the true tale of the Pig War, how the area was discovered by a Greek sea captain but given a Spanish name, and a host of native myths and legends as well as tons of U.S. and Canadian history.
The dobhar-chú are an Irish legend, although the word is now used, as Mara explains, to mean any ordinary river otter. I changed the beastie a bit to suit my purposes, with many apologies to the Irish. Although I’ve never seen it, I’ve been told that the tombstone attesting to the deadly attack of a dobhar-chú does exist in Conwal, in County Latrim. Anyone who can send me a verifiable photo of such a marker will have my undying thanks.
I admit to playing fast and loose with the investigation of possible crimes in inland and international waters. The jurisdiction of such crimes is rather convoluted and arcane, so I simplified it and I hope the Coast Guard, FBI, International Maritime Organization, and everyone else involved will understand the necessity. As to the rest, I warped, snitched, borrowed, cribbed, and made things up where I couldn’t find what I wanted. And I always thought merfolk needed tentacles, so I gave them some.
All the other characters, events, boats, crimes, and relationships included here are solely my invention and any resemblance to real stuff is unintentional.
Also by Kat Richardson
GREYWALKER
POLTERGEIST
UNDERGROUND
VANISHED
LABYRINTH
DOWNPOUR
ANTHOLOGIES
MEAN STREETS
(WITH JIM BUTCHER, SIMON R. GREEN, AND THOMAS E. SNIEGOSKI)
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