by Kari Jones
“How does it work?” I ask.
Dad holds the astrolabe in front of him so he is looking through one of the holes. “You line up one of the holes with the sun, then move this arm around until the sun shines through another hole, then take your reading off these notches along the side.” He pushes at the arm, but it’s stuck and doesn’t move.
“It’s broken,” I say.
“Crusted in salt and water,” Dad says.
“And they navigated with these?” asks Ellen.
Dad nods. “A long time ago.”
Ellen steps back. “I don’t get it. Why would anyone call this treasure?” She’s trying to hide it, but I know Ellen’s disappointed too.
Dad’s face is red with excitement. “Kids, think about it. Astrolabes were used between the fifteenth and seventeenth centuries. After that they were replaced by compasses.”
It takes a minute for what he’s saying to sink in, but then I say, “So this could really have belonged to Juan de Fuca.”
Dad nods. “Yeah, it could have.”
I take the astrolabe from Dad and hold it like he had, so the light shines through it.
“You mean I could be holding something that Juan de Fuca held? I could be holding something that he used to navigate his ship along the coast of British Columbia?”
Dad nods again, and this time he grins. “You’ve found a real treasure, kids.”
Mom’s laughing and crying at the same time. Mark’s just standing there with his mouth hanging open. Ellen’s eyes are bulging. They all look like they’ve just been stunned. I bet I look the same, because I sure feel that way. I’m touching history.
A minute ago I thought this was worthless.
The thought makes me shudder, and I carefully place the astrolabe back in the box.
Dad sits down next to me. “Simon, this could mean many things, you know.”
“Could it mean Juan de Fuca sailed down the strait, not just across the mouth of it?” I ask.
“It could, if the riddle is true,” says Dad.
I lean into him, unable to speak.
Then Mark clears his throat. “Sorry to remind you of this, but there’s still the matter of that man out on the rocks.”
“You’re right,” says Dad, standing up. “I’ll come with you. I think there’d better be two of us.”
Mom, Ellen and I watch as Dad and Mark gun the boat and round out of the bay to the headland toward Joseph.
It feels like forever that we sit there watching. None of us wants to move. The tide comes in some more. I get even colder and hungrier, but all I can think about is that something huge has happened.
Chapter Sixteen
Ellen and I sleep for about a million hours. When I finally wake up, Mom is setting fresh fruit, orange juice and coffee on the breakfast table, and Dad is cooking bacon, eggs and toast.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” calls Dad as I walk into the room. “How are you feeling?”
“Apart from the fact that my whole body is stiff and I have some pretty stellar bruises and cuts, I feel great. I’m starving.” I have no idea when I last ate.
“Well, eat up then,” says Mom.
After a huge breakfast, Ellen and I spend the day sitting around in the living room telling Mom and Dad details about our adventure. Dad frowns when we admit to missing some of our chores, but then he says, “Given the circumstances, I’m just glad you got any of them done.”
One thing that’s cool is that I don’t mind sitting here with Ellen. It’s good to have someone to share these memories with who understands what it was really like. And not once in the whole time we’re talking does she give one of her looks. She doesn’t contradict me or butt in when I’m explaining something. When she’s talking, I watch her and think about the adventure. Ever since we saw Joseph in the water and went to rescue him, Ellen’s been great. She’s been fantastic. The next time she looks my way, I grin at her. She looks surprised for a second, but then she grins back.
Late in the day, the radio crackles.
“Discovery Light, Discovery Light, this is the coast guard. Over.”
“This is Discovery Light. Hi, Mark. Over.”
“Simon, we thought you would like to know, we contacted the Royal Historical Society and they were very glad to hear from us. It turns out, the map Joseph Edison was carrying belongs to them. He stole it sometime last year. They’ve been looking for him ever since. The map is extremely valuable. They want to do more research on it and on the astrolabe you found.”
My heart sinks. “Does that mean we have to give the Royal Historical Society the box?”
“It means they’d like to work with you. To ask you some questions, if you’re willing.”
I smile. I’m willing, all right.
“So what was Joseph going to do with the box if he found it?” I ask Mark.
“He’s a known dealer in stolen antiques. So I guess he would have sold it.”
“Wow.” The thought of how close we came to losing it makes me shiver.
“That’s not why I called, Simon. We’re hoping you and Ellen will testify against him. Can you do that?”
I nod, then say, “Will do, Mark. Thanks for calling. Over.”
I put the radio down and walk to the window. I can see the bay and the top of the light tower. A thought that’s been nagging at me all night and all morning comes to the front of my mind, and I smile. Maybe, just maybe, this adventure will be enough to convince the government to keep Discovery Lighthouse Station open.
All through the evening, friends, reporters, other lighthouse keepers and people we’ve never even heard of radio in and want to talk to us. Several of them say they’re going to mount expeditions to find out more about Juan de Fuca’s travels, to see if there are shipwrecks or other treasures to be found. Some of them invite us along, but Ellen and I say no. We’ve had enough adventure for a while.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to my family and to the Wildwood Writers for all the years of support.
Kari Jones is a Victoria-based writer and teacher who has a passion for the out-of-doors. She loves to spend time exploring the natural world and dreaming up adventures to share.