to sixteen hours’ work a day.
It is a relief to see even Mister Lockhart is now usefully occupied in trading with the local people. There were some near disasters, but it appears he is acquiring the skills of a trader. While he is still aggressive in his approach there are fewer dangerous indiscretions, and he rarely disturbs the congenial interactions of the crew or the friendly nature of the aboriginals.
Intrepid’s box-like hull and narrow stern enable us to maximize our profits by carrying the largest cargo with the smallest crew necessary. But our ship’s hold is nearly full now and should we acquire many more pelts we may have to start storing them on the deck. We are equipped with three masts, which increases the ship’s agility and speed significantly and will thereby shorten our journey across the Pacific Ocean to the Orient. The one serious shortcoming this grand ship has is that we are but lightly armed with only six guns — meaning we are not ideally suited for conflict in the unlikely event that one should arise.
I informed Mister Lockhart that we are near our maximum load and should soon make ready to sail for China. He is eager to make one more trade. The improved conditions aboard this ship have so affected us all that I agreed to his plan — mainly because we must make one final stop at the top of Vancouver’s Island to wood and water for the long voyage ahead.
Our last trade was with the Tsaxis people — a very pleasant tribe. Loki and Peter were able to learn from them that there is a village a day’s journey north. They believe it will make a most profitable final stop. We are now on route.
Captain James Whittaker
“I can’t go with you?” I was crushed but did my best not to whine like Dr. Sanchez expected I would. I looked over at Amanda for support, but she only shrugged. “I thought that visibility is good — perfect diving conditions.”
“That’s right, it is. It’s just that we don’t know what’s down there. Dr. Sanchez thinks we need to ensure the area is safe before taking a child — I mean a young person — down, and I agree.” It figures that Dr. Sanchez was the one who wanted me out of the way. He’d been especially mean ever since the toilet got busted. I think he suspected I had something to do with it.
“Don’t worry, Peggy, you’ll get plenty of opportunity to dive once we know what’s down there,” Amanda said sweetly just before hopping over the side of the boat.
Disappointment washed over me as I watched the last of the crew disappear beneath the waves. A short while later, still in a foul mood, I heard the radio start to crackle and a disjointed voice calling through the static. I snapped up the handset and pressed the talk button.
“Hello?” I shouted to be heard clearly. The voice on the other side was faint and fuzzy so I turned some dials to make it come in clearer.
“Hello, is this Cap … ter?” crackled a man’s voice.
“No,” I shouted back. “This is Peggy Henderson. Captain Hunter is diving right now.”
“Fantast …! Did … find it?”
“Find it? If you mean the Intrepid — with my luck they probably found the ship and a ton of treasure too.” I was still irritated over being left behind and I knew it was coming out in my voice but didn’t care.
“Treasure! Right …!” replied the crackling voice again. “That will make … sound bite for … evening’s broadcast. So, Peggy … you one … researchers or … treasure hunter?”
“Well, ah …” I stammered, taken aback by the question. “Who is this calling, please?”
“Brad Turner, CFTV News — just try … get the scoop on the sunken … everyone is talk … ’bout. Tell me what the value …”
“Hey, wait a minute,” I shouted into the receiver when I finally clued in with horror who I was talking to. “You can’t tell anyone what I just said. I’ll get into trouble. I promised Dr. Hunter I could keep a secret.”
“A secret, eh? Dr. Hunter must have something … big going on at the bottom of the … if you have to keep it such a … You know, the public has a right to know Ms. Hender … What would you say the value is of the treasure on … Intrepid?”
“Wait, I didn’t say there was treasure … I just meant …”
“Ms. Hender … said they probably found treasure.”
“No, I didn’t mean that — I was just being sarcastic.”
“Sounds more like you’re trying to cover … truth … just come clean.” I flicked the switch to silence the voice and the static, then slammed the radio handset down hard. Good job, Peggy. News about the Intrepid could put the excavation at risk, but if people thought there was treasure — it could be a real disaster. I wouldn’t be surprised if Captain Hunter thought it was me who tipped off the media in the first place. Man, I was really going to have to walk the plank or become shark bait now.
As I considered my options I crossed off lying about it. I was already knee deep in guilt for busting the toilet and didn’t think my conscience could handle another cover up. Nope, I definitely had to tell the captain … “come clean,” as Brad Turner had said. But if I could only postpone the news until we got back to town …
I picked up Captain Whittaker’s journal. I needed something to get my mind off the inevitable trouble I was in.
June 2nd, 1812
We have arrived at the place known as Tlatskwala Island. It is about eight leagues in length and four in breadth. While the ship sat a thousand feet from shore I noted some fifty or sixty armed people awaited us. At first we could not tell if they were there to oppose our arrival or to greet us. As we waited for some sign several of their men entered canoes and came out to the ship. Soon we were surrounded by them. I ordered my crew to toss over some trinkets to encourage good will. Even Mister Lockhart did not argue the matter with me.
Peter spoke to them and they seemed to understand that our purpose was to approach their chief with the prospects of a trade. It was a very friendly interview with the inhabitants and we were consequently invited ashore with a sampling of our trade goods.
The chief, who awaited our arrival, was brandishing a spear and wearing a cloth about his loins fabricated by grass. His nature seemed filled with prowess, irreverence even, and I thought to myself, there stands a magnificent man! Chief Noomki calls his tribe the Kwakwaka’wakw and they appear to be a vibrant community. Despite all this, I do not feel an immediate report with them and sense they have no immediate feeling of kindness for us either.
We followed the chief to a large structure and entered. The image carved above the entrance was monstrous and quite intimidating to be sure. I was astonished at the size of the interior — the height about twenty-five feet. There were eight or ten enormous trees carved and painted into the forms of animals and humans, and served as house beams. They in turn were supported by planks of uncommon breadth and length. It is my estimate that some five hundred souls occupy the building. At the end of the long room Chief Noomki sat on a small platform, surrounded by many who appeared to be of significant rank.
We were invited to take part in a meal that consisted of boiled whale meat and fish soup eaten with mussel-shell spoons. After our meal the young men took part in a dance that involved drums, chanting, and remarkable masks — each with unique characteristics and vividly painted.
Tomorrow
