This is the tenth episode of the novel, The Big Gamble in Paradise. It has just been released. This is the second book in the Trace Troy Paradise Series. It can be purchased in the Kindle digital version or paperback.
Episode 10
While Chuck finished painting over The Poerova, three trucks full of building supplies pulled up alongside The Tramp Islander. For the next two days, cargo was lifted from the trucks and stowed in the hold. Sean operated a small onboard crane to lift the cargo from the trucks and lower them into the hold. Chuck stowed the cargo tightly in place, and at times Sean climbed into the hold to give him a hand. During that time, Trace cared for some business and legal matters, and Makani bought supplies from a list compiled by Trace. Sean, and Chuck.
They delivered fuel on the morning after trucks were all unloaded into the holds. The small bulldozer along with the attachments arrived late in the day.
Trace sat at the chart desk in the pilothouse. He examined the chart in front of him tapping his finger on the island of Paulu, one of the three islands Hamilton’s investors projected to develop. He nervously checked his watch. He awaited the arrival of Sage. ‘Will he make it,’ he muttered.
Static came from the shortwave radio. “Hello, Hello, The Tramp Islander, this is Allie. Anyone there? Over.”
Trace smiled surprised. He grabbed the hand microphone from its hook. “Hello, Allie, this is Trace. Over.”
“Are you full? Over”
“There a little space on deck. Over”
“Do you have room for two pallets of twelve-foot pipe, a generator, and pump?” Over.
“Do you have the weight? Over.”
“Less than two tones. Over.”
“I’ll make room, even if I have to sleep with the pump. Over.”
“That’s good. I have some freight for you. Over.”
“Where does it go?” Over.
“One hundred and nine miles north of Paulu. Over.”
“I’m really starting to like our relationship. Over.”
“If you like it now, wait till you hear more. You’ll be in love.” Over.”
“This keeps up and I’ll be proposing marriage. What’s the name of the island? Over.”
“Kati Re. Over.”
Trace ran his finger over the chart. “Yes, I see it. Over.”
“They’ll have twenty-five tons of copra in crates. Over.”
“Copra, what’s that? Over.”
“Comes from coconuts. Over.”
“Any money in moving copra? Over.”
“Some, but it will go a long way in restoring your ship’s reputation. There’s no price on that. Over.”
“Estimate being there in five days. Over.”
“They’ll be happy to see you. Over.”
“Thanks, Allie. Over.”
“Thank you, Captain Troy. Over.”
“See you in a week or so. Over.”
Trace hung up the mic. “Copra, I wonder what it’s for.”
He grabbed the ship’s intercom. “Sean, Chuck come to the house.”
Trace tapped his pencil while waiting for them. He looked at the books on a shelf above the chart table. He picked out, Guidebook for Shipping Products. He turned to copra. Sean and Chuck entered the pilothouse.
“What’s up, Trace?” Sean said.
“We have a turn cargo of twenty-five tons of copra,” Trace said. “Have we ever handled that before?”
Sean and Chuck Glanced at each other and rolled their eyes.
“Not good?” Trace said.
“It’s tricky,” Chuck said. “We’ve handled it before. It just takes a lot of care. It’s very combustible. A spark or friction can set it off. And it can spontaneous combust.”
“If you guys don’t feel comfortable hauling it, I’ll give Allie a call, and tell her to find somebody else.”
“I’m guessing you might have been her last resort,” Chuck said.
“We need the shipment,” Trace said.
“That’s why she called you,” Chuck said.
“Am I sucker for taking it?” Trace said.
“When you’re starting out, you take what you can get,” Sean said. “A ship that hauls that stuff earns a good reputation.”
“You guys know how to stow it, right?” Trace said.
“Yeah,” Sean said looking at Chuck and he nodded.
“I’ll read up on it,” Trace said tapping the book. “No copra in the Aleutians.”
“What’s that?” Chuck turned his ear toward the pier.
“What?” Trace said.
“Somebody out there screeching,” Chuck said.
Trace stood and looked out the pilothouse’s front windows. “It’s Hamilton, project manager on Paulu. Wonder what he wants.”
Trace slid the side window to the pilothouse open, “Come on aboard!”
Hamilton tossed two travel bags aboard before climbing over the railing.
“Looks like we have a passenger,” Trace said. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called down the companionway, “Makani, we got plenty of food?”
“Plenty,” Makani said. “We will have a passenger.”
Hamilton found his way to the pilothouse. By the time he entered Sean and Chuck had gone.
“How ya doin’, Trace?” Hamilton said.
“I’m fine, but surprised to see you.”
“Well, there’s a bit of a problem. My assistant who was supposed to stay with the equipment and materials on Paulu had an attack of appendicitis. So I thought I’d catch a ride.”
“I’ll have Makani get a room ready.”
“Sorry for the suddenness of this,” Hamilton said.
“That’s okay but I’m curious, why didn’t you just wait a few days and fly to Paulu?”
“There’s no airport or landing strip. In fact, that’s one of the first things we are going to construct.”
“Don’t they have seaplanes?”
“Yeah, but the truth is, I don’t like to fly.”
“Three days at sea may change your mind.”
“I have plenty of Dramamine.” Hamilton reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bottle of pills and rattled them.
“I hope you brought something to read or do. Sailing on a cargo ship is nothing like a cruise on a passenger ship.”
“I brought some paperbacks and I brought plenty of paperwork,” Hamilton said.
“Still can drive a man crazy,” Trace said
“What does the crew do to keep sane?”
“They have duties and we’re a little crazy to begin with.”
“Project managers who accept a job in the middle of the ocean, six hundred miles from anywhere, has to be running a close second.”
“We’ll be eating at 5:00 PM and casting off before sunrise. We’re going to catch the tide.” Trace said. “If you’re a heavy sleeper we’ll be thirty miles out to sea before you wake.”
“What time is breakfast?” Hamilton asked.
“7:00 AM.”
“Hey, Sean,” Trace cupped his hands and yelled below.
Sean appeared at the bottom of the companionway. “Yes, Cap.”
“Take Mr. Hamilton to one of the passenger cabins. He’ll be sailing with us.”
“Aye, aye,” Sean said.
“Just follow Sean,” Trace said.
Hamilton stepped down the companionway, and followed Sean forward to the passenger’s quarters.
“Where in the heck is Sage,” Trace muttered and thought, ‘It looks like I may have to sail without him.’
After supper, Trace went to his cabin. He stashed some money into an envelope and wrote a note.
“We could not wait. I’m on a tight schedule. Here’s enough money for a hotel and meals. I should be back in a week or so. Take care, Trace.”
Trace dated it and sealed the envelope.
He walked down to the harbormaster’s office and stepped to a counter. The harbormaster stood from behind a desk, and walked to the counter.
“Can I help you, sir?” The harbormaster said.
Trace handed him the envelope. “I’m the captain of The Tramp Islander, the two-masted schooner, docked just down the way. We’re leaving with the tide before sunup. I was expecting another crewman but he hasn’t made it. Can you give him this envelope if he shows up?”
“Sure, and I’ll pass it on to my relief,” the harbormaster said. “And what’s your name?”
“Trace Troy.”
The harbormaster scribbled the name on the envelope.
“He’ll probably be wearing an American cowboy hat with blond curly hair beneath it. His name is Sage Vincent. The name is on the envelope.”
The harbormaster grabbed the envelope and slid it into a drawer in the counter.
“I appreciate it,” Trace said.
“No problem, Mr. Troy. Where will you be sailing?”
“Puala,” Trace said.
“Have a safe voyage,” the harbormaster said.
“Thanks,” Trace said, “for everything.”
Trace returned to The Tramp Islander.
