Galleon

by CJ Williams

  “Very well, Captain Gus.”

  “Close enough. Can you show me a map of the galaxy? Maybe we can get close enough to find our way home.”

  The oil painting turned into a map of the Milky Way galaxy as seen from above, a giant spiral of stars around a bright, elongated center. Gus had seen such photos all his life but never took more than a cursory notice. The spiral had two major arms and several smaller branches.

  “Ask the girls to come up here,” he said.

  “Very well,” Alyssa replied. “Hannah is on her way. Kyoko is returning from gathering fruit. I will advise her when she arrives.”

  A moment later, Hannah entered the cabin. “What’s up?” she asked.

  Gus pointed at the image.

  “Is that the Milky Way?” she asked.

  “That’s right,” Gus replied.

  “Alyssa, where are we on the map?” Hannah asked.

  A yellow arrow appeared at the top of the image, pointing to an area on the far end of one of the larger spiral arms. “This is your current location,” Alyssa replied.

  Hannah studied the map for several minutes, tracing the various arms and muttering to herself. Then she tapped the arrow on the screen and turned to Gus. “Okay. So where is Earth?

  “You tell me,” he barked impatiently.

  “How should I know?”

  “Because you went to college,” Gus growled. “Don’t they…”

  Before Gus could finish venting Kyoko walked in. “Good morning,” she greeted everyone cheerfully. “Alyssa said you wanted to see me?”

  Gus sourly pointed at the image. “You know what that is?”

  “Let me see,” Kyoko said slowly. “Oh. It’s the Milky Way. Is this where we are now?” she asked, pointing at the arrow.

  “That’s what Alyssa said,” Hannah replied, giving Gus an angry glare. “Why is he mad at me? I didn’t do anything.”

  “He’s not angry with you,” Kyoko promised “Don’t be so sensitive. Grandfather, please be nice. Anyway, that would make sense why Nineteen keeps seeing different subspace stations. There are so many stars between us they block the path.”

  Gus perked up. “You know where Earth is on that map?”

  “Of course,” Kyoko said matter-of-factly. Then she paused. “Well, not exactly.” Her fingers traced out the spiral arms. “Look at these two arcs. They might appear to be the same, but if this is accurate, we must be near the end of the Scutum arm.”

  “How can you tell?” Gus asked.

  Kyoko pointed to the bottom of the map. “Because of this thin, straggly arm that wraps way around the outside. That’s the Outer Arm. The big one inside it is the Perseus arm and the one inside that is the Sagittarius arm. See this little strip between the two? That’s what they call the Orion Spur. Our solar system is about halfway along that offshoot. But which star exactly, I have no idea.”

  “Well, still,” Gus said, “that gets us pretty close.”

  “Only in a general sense,” Kyoko replied. “The furthest mankind has explored is about one hundred light-years from Earth. Within that distance, we have established viable settlements on twenty-eight planets.”

  “Yeah. I read that in a brochure on the Solar Princess. That means it should be easy to find Earth.”

  “No, Grandfather. There are thousands of stars within that distance. It could take us years.” Kyoko looked at the map with a worried expression. “And I could be wrong. Maybe that isn’t the Orion Spur. Look at these others.” She pointed to similar wisps of stars on the map.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Gus said sternly. “I don’t know squat about any of this, and neither does Hannah. Your guess is a lot better than ours.”

  Hannah glanced at the screen and said, “Alyssa, do your records show an Acevedos presence in that area?”

  “Yes, they do,” Alyssa replied. “In fact, I am aware of two modest settlements in what you just called the Orion Spur. One of them might be what you refer to as Wheelers Bright.”

  “Yes!” Hannah shouted. She grabbed Kyoko in a big hug. “You did it!”

  “We all did it,” Kyoko said.

  “Good job by both of you,” Gus acknowledged. “At least we have a destination. Alyssa, how far away is that?”

  “In your terms, Wheelers Bright is roughly sixty-seven thousand light-years away.”

  That brought Gus up short. “The hell you say. What’s that mean for us?”

  Kyoko said, “Wheelers Bright is thirty light-years from Earth, and it was scheduled as a twenty-four-day voyage. How long would it take from here?”

  Hannah counted on her fingers for a second. “One hundred and forty-six years,” she said in a defeated voice.

  Kyoko slumped on the table. “Oh my God.”.

  Gus’s face turned pale. “I am afraid so,” he said to Kyoko. “You wanted a sign and here it is. Rescue is not on the way now and never will be. We can die from a volcanic eruption on this island or die of old age trying to get home.”

  Alyssa broke into the sudden gloomy mood. “Miss Schubert, your calculation is incorrect. It will certainly be a long voyage, especially on an uncomfortable starship such as myself. I am specially built for operation in multiple environments, not high speed over extended distances. But I do have the capability for endurance. Without interruption, in your time units, the duration would be three to four months. However, we will have to stop along the way for provisions. I estimate the total voyage at six or seven months.”

  “Six or seven months?” Gus exclaimed. A broad grin spread across his face. “Piece of cake!”

  Alyssa’s news brought squeals of excitement from the girls, and Gus drummed on the tabletop with both hands and said, “It’s time to party!”

  When their celebrating died down, Alyssa added, “But first you must get to Paldae Island.”

  *.*.*.*

  Russell Kline waited for Sam Kirby to go through his ritual five-fingered countdown. The Grandfather Watch counter on the backdrop indicated 509 days.

  “Good morning, everyone. Russell Kline here with Cassie Weaver and Katelynn Santos. You look cheerful, Katie. What did you think?”

  Katelynn was all smiles. “Isn’t this amazing? They’re going to make it after all. I had almost lost hope.”

  Russell was not as enthusiastic. “I’m not sure this crew will ever see Earth again, but for me, the exciting news is that we have a name! After more than a year of investigation, no one has been able to find out who this Grandfather character is, and now he comes right out and tells us. Gus! I just have one question.”

  Cassie laughed. “Let me Gus. Gus who?”

  “Exactly!” Russell looked at the camera. “For those who haven’t seen it, late last night our favorite grandfather finally gave us his name. The catch is that the Solar Princess’s manifest does not include the name Gus. Is that possible? So I’m still asking the same question I’ve been asking all along. Who is this guy?”

  “He’s a member of my family,” Katelynn said firmly. “All of them are, and that’s why so many people watch their videos.”

  The activity by the three castaways was often mundane, their discussions filled with the technical aspects of living aboard the amazing vessel. The video blog had become part of the world’s entertainment culture.

  Far from Russell’s expectation that the public would stop watching the daily postings, people became addicted to the broadcasts as they would a soap opera. Some watched because they loved the adventure, while academics and scientists scrutinized every frame, hoping for insight into the Acevedos’s fantastic technology. Alyssa herself was now a popular star. For one thing, she provided English subtitles for the videos whenever Hannah spoke in German.

  But most people simply identified with the struggle. The two female celebrities had long since lost their luster and were seen in their rawest form, victims of catastrophe struggling to survive along with one old man. The three lost souls had become part of the public’s daily existence.

  “I c
an’t argue with that,” Russell said. “But don’t you want to know who he is?”

  “I’m not sure,” Katelynn said. “Grandfather Gus is good enough for me. And when he gets here—”

  “If he gets here,” Russell interrupted.

  “When he gets here!” Katelynn said fiercely. “Don’t ever question that! When he gets here, I want to give him a big hug. I can’t believe he’s done it. They’ve all done it. I think they’re going to make it now. I’m so excited!”

  Cassie chuckled at Katelynn’s infectious enthusiasm. “I am too, but they still have challenges ahead. Now they have to sail two thousand miles over open ocean. Is that even possible?”

  Katelynn waved her hand dismissively. “I can promise you that’s not a problem,” she said. “I have no doubt he can do it. Grandfather Gus is a sailor. You can tell he has a lot of experience. He’s a shipwright, for goodness sakes. And like you said, it’s only two thousand miles.”

  “Only?” Russell questioned skeptically.

  “Of course. It’s more than that from LA to Hawaii, and hundreds of small recreational boats sail that every year. Families and solo sailors complete crossings longer than that all the time. And they do it in little teeny boats, too! A lot of them twenty or thirty feet.”

  “You sound knowledgeable about this,” Cassie said, a bit surprised. “Are you a sailor?”

  Katelynn looked smug. “I’ve got a thirty-four-foot Beneteau.”

  “Have you ever sailed to Hawaii?” Russell asked.

  Katelynn grinned unabashedly. “Long Island Sound is adventurous enough for me. But Grandfather Gus can make it to Paldae Island with his eyes closed. Just like he said, a piece of cake.”

  *.*.*.*

  Gus had studied the tide for months. The planet’s double moons made it erratic, but with constant study, he had developed an accurate schedule. Every six hours the tide flowed into the lagoon with rushing water that broke over shallows in the gap of the crater’s rim. The period between high and low tide was only three hours, so they needed to set sail just at the start of the ebbing tide to get over those rocks.

  He was comfortable that departing with the high tide would be good enough for Alyssa to clear the underwater obstructions because, after all, at one point she had sailed into the lagoon; she could no doubt sail out again.

  Although the distance from the dock to the crater’s opening was less than a mile, Gus planned to push off one hour before the ebb tide started. It would be their first experience actually sailing the ship, and he expected it would be slow going. The light westerly wind usually swirled around inside the rim before blowing out through the gap. The breeze and the tide would be at their back until they reached the ocean.

  The best time for their departure was three days hence. They would catch the high morning tide, and once at sea they would have all day to get familiar with Alyssa before nightfall. It was time for final provisioning. Kyoko sent Gus and Hannah into the jungle for last-minute fruits and melons. Gus dug up three barrels of yams, and Hannah took a final turn searching for coconuts. They had enough cocoa powder, their only luxury, to last for months.

  On the last day, they filled all the water casks. In the worst case, they had enough water to last almost three months, and hopefully, the rain barrels would supplement their supply.

  The big question was how long would it take the inexperienced crew to sail across the open ocean to Paldae Island?

  10 – Setting Sail

  “There’s nothing for Jack to do but to obey orders, and I went up upon the yard; and there was a worse mess, if possible, than I had left below. The braces had been let go, and the yard was swinging about like a turnpike gate.”

  (Richard Henry Dana, Jr. “Two Years Before the Mast”)

  Their last morning on the island dawned bright and clear. Gus saw it as a good omen. Kyoko’s moodiness had disappeared, which lifted everyone’s spirits. Gus rose early and hurried to the spa for a final hot bath. On his return, he found Kyoko at the pier pulling the fish traps out of the water. She moved the occupants into a special wicker basket.

  “I didn’t want to forget these,” she said with a grin. “At least we’ll have one or two fresh meals once we get started.”

  An hour later the scheduled launch time arrived. “Everyone ready?” Gus asked. Both girls nodded. “Let’s do it then.”

  He untied the mooring lines and followed the girls aboard. He and Kyoko pulled in the gangplank and stowed it on the forward deck. He made Hannah put on her safety harness. Her competency working aloft was remarkable, but a single miscue at sea meant serious injury or death. Hannah hated wearing it, but on this important procedure, he would not budge.

  “There is only one rule for sailing,” he’d told her over and over. “Stay on the boat!”

  Alyssa slowly drifted away from the pier and Kyoko ran up to the quarterdeck to stand behind the wheel. “String down the mizzen!” she called.

  Hannah jumped onto the ratlines and scrambled up to the main yard. Kyoko looked up at her and shouted, “Avast there, ye bloody lubber. Cast off the hand sprouts.” Hannah’s laughter carried down with the wind and Gus shook his head, mystified. These two were going to make this a long voyage.

  At the forward winches for the mainmast, he released the rope clutches for the clew lines and buntlines, allowing the trapezoidal-shaped sail to lower from the top down as Hannah undid the ties that held the sail in its stowed configuration on top of the yard.

  Hannah steadily worked her way across the footrope, unfurling the sail and letting it flap down in the wind. Gus grabbed the line attached to the lower corner of the sail, and looped it around the shaft of the winch to crank it down tight. Hannah finished unfurling the sail, and Gus repeated the process for the upwind side.

  While she came down and transferred to the foremast, he cleaned up the buntlines and clew lines hanging down the mast. By the time he finished, Hannah had let down most of the foresail. Their stutter-step procedure required thirty minutes to set both sails.

  Gus had long ago decided that unless they developed much more confidence than they had at this point, they would stick to just the lower course mainsail and foresail. Someday they might try the topsails, but he had no intention of ever spreading the topgallants. Mainly, he didn’t trust Hannah that high in the rigging.

  He pulled on the foresail sheets, cinching them down, and then looked up. The sails filled nicely and gave him a kick of adrenaline. They had really set sail now. He decided to check on Kyoko.

  At the front of the quarterdeck, she gripped the massive wheel firmly in her hands. Now that the ship had a bare amount of headway, she spun the wheel to starboard, pointing the prow toward the center of the lagoon so she could line up a direct path to the opening in the rim.

  The sails snapped once and tightened noticeably. An almost imperceptible tug moved the Alyssa forward. The sound of water splashing against the hull drew him to look over the side, where a beautiful white V spread from the bow. The ocean sent a massaging, invigorating rhythm through the hull.

  He ran up to the forecastle and stood near the bowsprit. The sea spray covered his face and the breeze tugged at his white shirt. For the first time in the seventeen months since landing on the island, he felt a sense of promise, a deep-down assurance they would win. Alyssa’s figurehead pointed toward the gap, leading them away from the enclosed, confining lagoon to the open ocean and home.

  He hurried back to the quarterdeck where Hannah had joined Kyoko. The girls’ eyes were as bright as gemstones. “How’s she handle?” he asked.

  Kyoko spat on the deck and shouted her reply. “She handles like a pregnant cow. Her keel’s heavy and she wallows like a pig. Her rudders get stuck in the windward lee-side.”

  Gus stared at her blankly. “I don’t think you have the jargon down exactly,” he said quietly.

  Kyoko shrugged. “Yeah, well.” She was silent for a moment but the twinkle in her eyes reflected the joy on her face. “She handles fine,�
� she concluded with a smile.

  Hannah sniggered and ran back to the deck. She slipped into her harness and clambered up ratlines to the main top.

  Gus gave his full attention to Kyoko. During their planning, he had emphasized the importance of accounting for the wind. “Don’t point the nose at the gap,” he had warned her. “The wind can blow you to one side or another. Adjust your heading to take that into consideration.”

  Kyoko’s current course would carry them through without a problem. She only needed to hold Alyssa steady. Gus hovered by her shoulder for a minute, mumbling encouragement.

  “I’m fine,” she said pointedly.

  Fair enough. No sense in making her nervous; he returned to the waist. For the moment, he had nothing to do. He could have trimmed the sails a little, but all that would have to wait until they had cleared the rim. Kyoko had the correct line, and he didn’t want to mess with her right now.

  Ahead of the ship, the tide began to rush out of the lagoon. Small whitecaps formed around the banks but the center of the gap showed deep water. The crater rim he had climbed so many times in the past looked enormous from a sea-level perspective. It felt like Alyssa was charging headlong between giant buttresses. He half expected Poseidon to rise up from the ocean and hold the cliffs apart, allowing them to pass.

  He took a calming breath. Don’t get overexcited. In reality, their speed could not be more than two or three knots. They reached the opening and the rim eased by on either side. Gus mentally bade a farewell to the island, and then they were in the open ocean.

  Immediately the sea was stronger. Kyoko slowly turned the wheel, and Alyssa’s bow swung ponderously around to a heading of north-northeast. The sails snapped and huffed during the turn until Kyoko steadied out on course. The trade winds came from the southwest, so Alyssa was running downwind.

  The sun had risen into a crystal-blue sky, and the horizon looked about a thousand miles away; Gus could barely tell where it merged with the sea. The swells moved from west to east, running with the ship and giving them a relatively smooth ride with very little pitching up and down or rolling side to side. Alyssa rode each swell up easily and then settled down on the other side to repeat the process endlessly.