Two Tamas In Paradise; Episode 14, Moment By Moment

This is the fourteenth episode of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. It is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series. It will be posted in episodes. The plan is for two or three a week. There are fifty episodes. It has not been published yet. The reader is given a sneak preview. 

It suffices to say that because this is one novel in a series, there may be things not understood unless one knows what has taken place in previous novels from this series. Here is a link to the first novel in the series: The Big Gamble in Paradise, paperback or Kindle.

Moment By Moment

In another day they would be sighting Suva.

Trace sat in the captain’s chair. He felt calm. He wore an expression of contentment. He loved the pilothouse and helm. It was not about control. It was the feeling of being a part of The Tamp Islander. He often opened all the windows to feel the wind and the purity of the sea—the same wind felt by The Tramp Islander and her sails. He thought, ‘You can’t talk about ranching to somebody who’s never ranched. I talk to the ship—and listen. The only way to do that is to be a part of it. My pulse beats with that of The Tramp Islander. She respects me. I respect her. We respect the sea and winds. I think that sometimes she knows I’m about to change a heading before I make it. It’s like she’s ready. And it seems like at times I wait for permission.’

When about two hundred miles from Suva, Trace maneuvered The Tramp Islander through a dozen or more atolls of the Lau Island Group. On a couple of occasions, the sails were dropped and he used the motor to navigate past the coral reefs. 

He recalled on one trip through these atolls, Chuck said, “A good seaman could sail through these without a motor.” Trace pointed to a sailboat on the reefs, “Now there’s a good sailor. Good sailors end up on coral reefs. Cautious sailors deliver their crew and cargo.”

‘That should have been sort of a clue,’ Trace thought. ‘In a subtle way, he was telling me something; I didn’t measure up. He was better and entitled. Should have seen it.’

‘Chuck was a follower,’ he surmised. ‘Chuck was put up to it by Sean. I should have seen that. Maybe I ignored it, thinking it might upset the morale of the crew. What kind of things will I look for in the next crew? What questions can I ask when interviewing that will help me make a good decision? Let’s face it, all the choir boys are in the choir.’ 

‘I will get together with Sage and Makani. I’ll have the final say, but I should allow them to have some say. They should sit in on any interview. If they can’t impress Sage and Makani, why hire them? On the other hand, maybe we won’t be able to find one candidate. Maybe we will have to scrape the bottom of the barrel. I don’t want deckhands who can’t take care of their personal appearance or keep their cabin clean. Maybe I should go to the local parish and ask for choir boys.’

Sage replaced Trace at 10:00 PM. 

“How do you feel?” Trace asked Sage.

“Good,” Sage said. “We’ll be in Suva tomorrow. That will be good.”

“Keep your eyes peeled tonight,” Trace said. “There’s a lot more boat traffic the closer we get to Suva.”

“When we get to Suva, I’m going to get a room and crash for a couple of days,” Sage said. “What about you?”

“I’ll get a room too,” Trace said, “but I got some business to take care of, the dry dock. And  Allie mentioned a few contracts that could pay well—some long haul cargo. She said we could take on passengers. I guess there are folks who don’t mind paying a lot of money to live like we do and not seeing land for a couple of weeks. They just want to live the experience.”

“And go back home and have something to talk about at cocktail parties,” Sage added.

“Allie said she’d put something together for me to look at,” Trace said. “She said we had what people are looking for; sort of a rustic experience on the high seas. Like living a century ago.”

“Except we have a generator, an eighty-horse engine, refrigerator, toilets, and a radio,” Sage said.

“You forgot the dartboard,” Trace added.

“We don’t need the money, do we?” Sage said.

“No,” Trace said, “but this is not about the money. It’s about… well, I don’t know what it’s about. But we can use this to prepare us for… well, I don’t know that either. We could give this boat away and go home.”

“Remember Mr. Gilbert, our algebra teacher?” Sage said.

“The moment in which you live prepares you for the next moment,” Trace said. “We are in a constant state of preparation.”

“I can’t tell you how many times that has rolled around in my mind,” Sage said.

“With that said, this moment is preparing me for many moments of sleep,” Trace said. “Good night, my friend.”

And Trace climbed down the companionway and to his cabin.

Trace relieved Sage at 6:00 AM. Makani brought them breakfast.

Sage grabbed the tray when they were finished. He said he would take it the the galley and get a couple of hours' sleep. He wanted to be awake when they docked at Suva.

“Wake me when you see Suva,” Sage said and headed below. 

Two Tamas In Paradis; Episode 13, Change

This is the thirteenth episode of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. It is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series. It will be posted in episodes. The plan is for two or three a week. There are fifty episodes. It has not been published yet. The reader is given a sneak preview. 

It suffices to say that because this is one novel in a series, there may be things not understood unless one knows what has taken place in previous novels from this series. Here is a link to the first novel in the series: The Big Gamble in Paradise, paperback or Kindle.

Sailing was perfect for the next few days. It was so perfect, there was difficulty in tracking the days. 

Trace sat at the chart desk. He took the readings he had just made and listened for the exact time from the radio. He calculated his figures and made a small notation on the chart. He returned to the wheel and tacked 285 degrees.

Sage sat on the aft bench. Noticing the change in heading, he walked into the pilot house.

Trace turned to Sage. “We are making really good time. Four hundred more miles.”

“To…?” Sage said

“Suva,” Sage said.

“We’re not going to take a break at that island you mentioned a few days ago?” Sage asked.

“Vava’u,” Trace said. 

“Yeah,” Sage said, “whatever.”

Trace smiled as if holding a secret. “We passed Vava’u about twenty hours ago. It’s about one hundred and twenty miles that way.” Trace heaved his thumb to the aft port side.

“Does Makani know?” Sage said.

“You guys were sleeping,” Trace said.

“Were you ever going to tell us?” Sage said.

“Nobody said anything,” Trace said and asked, “Disappointed?”

“No,” Sage said, “Makani and I were talking and we said it would be fine to skip a stopover and get back to Suva.”

“Great minds think alike,” Trace said.

“I hope we can find two more great minds,” Sage said.

“Can you think of any of our old buddies who ain’t married, in jail, or running from the law?” Trace said.

“Wouldn’t it be fun to have an all-Texas crew, except for Makani?” Sage said.

“No,” Trace said abruptly.

“Yeah,” Sage said, “bad idea. At least the guys we know. We’d be moutin’ longhorn horns on the bow.”

“Hey,” Trace said, “the thought has crossed my mind.”

Sage said, glancing sidewise at Trace, “Let’s do it.”

“It’s the only right thing to do,” Sage said. “I’ll send for some when we get to Suva.”

“What about a Lone Star flag?” Sage said.

“It would only seem appropriate,” Trace said.

“The ideas just keep flowing,” Sage smirked.

They laughed.

“Have you weighed the gold yet? Sage asked.

“Yeah,” Trace said, “yesterday. There’s one hundred and almost twenty-one pounds.”

“Forty each,?” Trace asked.

“Yeah,” Sage said. “I made an inquiry over the short wave on the price of gold in the US. It’s three thirty-three an ounce. Don’t think too hard on this. I already figured about two hundred and thirteen thousand each.”

“That’s enough to lose Makani over,” Sage said.

“Yeah,” Trace said, “I’d hate to lose him.”

“We probably can’t afford the keep him,” Sage said and joked. “We could always cheat him.”

“I hear that,” Makani’s voice came from the companionway. He climbed up wearing a wide grin.

“Too bad,” Sage said, “we'll go now, to plan B.”

“What plan B? Makani said. 

“How far can you swim?” Sage quipped.

“No worry,” Makani said, “Me and Sage already have plan for you.”

They laughed. 

“We have good time together,” Makani said. "It good. Like when boy with cousins. Much good time.”

“The same with Sage and me,” Trace said. “When we were growing up, much good times.”

“You know what, Makani,” Sage said, “back home you would fit right in with Trace and me.”

“I worry, like you worry,” Makani said. “We might get two not good deckhands. Sean and Chuck good but turn bad. I sorry for them.”

“Me too,” Trace said. “So did you hear how much your share will be?”

“No,” Makani said.

“You will get forty pounds of gold,” Trace said. “As close as we can figure, that will be two hundred and thirteen thousand in American dollars.”

“Does that make me a rich man?” Makani asked.

“Yeah,” Trace said, “you are a rich man.”

“But I feel same,” Makani said. “Same yesterday, same last month.”

“It means you have always been rich,” Trace said. 

Two Tamas In Paradise; Episode 12, Harmony On Rough Seas

This is the twelfth episode of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. It is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series. It will be posted in episodes. The plan is for two or three a week. There are fifty episodes. It has not been published yet. The reader is given a sneak preview. 

It suffices to say that because this is one novel in a series, there may be things not understood unless one knows what has taken place in previous novels from this series. Here is a link to the first novel in the series: The Big Gamble in Paradise, paperback or Kindle.

Harmony On Rough Seas

Sage was at the helm when the seas turned rough. It woke Trace, who was asleep in his cabin. He staggered while dressing. 

He climbed up to the pilothouse. “How ya doin, Sage?”

“Just rough enough to keep me awake,” Sage said, “but we’re holdin’ steady.”

“Just to be safe, I’m going to reef the sails,” Trace said. “I’ll do it myself. I’d rather do it now than when the wind is at 20 knots. Makani can sleep.”

“Careful out there,” Sage said. 

Trace grabbed his slicker from a hook. He put it on and went out onto the foredeck. He struggled a little to keep his balance but had the aft and fore sail reefed in half an hour.

He returned to the pilothouse and checked the barometer. He tapped it. “Falling a bit, not much,” Trace said.

“Have you heard anything over the radio?” Trace asked.

“High seas expected,” Sage said. “Other than that, nothing.”

“We knew it had to come sometime,” Trace said. “Up ’til now, it’s been pretty good.”

Makani climbed up the companionway fully dressed and rubbing his eyes. He yawned, “What weather coming out way?”

“High seas and wind,” Trace said.

“How high, what speed?” Makani said.

“We haven’t heard,” Sage said.

“I fix coffee and cinnamon roll,” Makani said. “Need something in stomach to throw up.”

“Thanks for thinking about us,” Sage quipped.

Makani staggered down the companionway.

Trace adjusted the dial on the radio until he heard a weather report. “Twenty knot winds and six to seven foot seas,” the reporter said.

“On the Bering that’s a mild day,” Trace said.

“What’s the biggest seas you’ve been on?” Sage asked.

“Fifty,” Trace said. “And I ain’t afraid to say it, but I was scarred shitless. You literally stare dead with each wave. But our captain had experience with the Coast Guard. It was a pony ride for him. The guy had ice water in his veins. Then there was the season on the crab boat. You haul gear in forty-foot seas. That’s one reason I’m here and not there. I swear to god those guys have a death wish.”

Hmm,” Sage said, “they say a lot of men go to sea to get away from their wives. A cowboy just gets on his horse and rides away for a week and says he’s looking for strays.”

Makani brought coffee and cinnamon rolls. All three bore the rough seas from the pilothouse. They shared stories and spun tales. After twelve hours, the seas calmed. Makani followed Trace to the foredeck. They hoisted the sails.

Makani took the wheel. Trace and Sage went to their cabins. 

Before sleep came, Trace smiled contentedly. ‘Those were precious hours,’ he thought. ‘I almost hate to break the camaraderie by hiring two strangers. Right now, the chemistry is near perfect.’

He slept.  

Two Tamas In Paradise; Episode 11, Planning For Suva

This is the eleventh episode of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. It is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series. It will be posted in episodes. The plan is for two or three a week. There are fifty episodes. It has not been published yet. The reader is given a sneak preview. 

It suffices to say that because this is one novel in a series, there may be things not understood unless one knows what has taken place in previous novels from this series. Here is a link to the first novel in the series: The Big Gamble in Paradise, paperback or Kindle.

Planning For Suva

Shortly after breakfast, Sage and Makani jacked up the anchor. Trace started the engine and motored away from Palmerston Island. The sails were hoisted and Trace began tacking west, toward Fiji.

Sage came back to the pilothouse, and Makani went below.

“We needed that,” Sage said, sitting on the bench in the pilothouse.

“We need two more hands,” Trace said, steering the boat and looking over the bow. “I don’t like strapping too much on a small crew. It leads to mistakes and accidents, and injuries. Out at sea, a man is injured, there’s little you can do.”

“We’ll find a couple of deckhands,” Sage assured.

“Guys who want to work on a schooner?” Trace said. “Hoisting and trimming sails and everything in between. It’s hard work. The boat is old school.”

“But it goes where few can go,” Sage said. “You have a corner on the freight market. It’s a niche business.”

“You sound like you want to open a candle shop,” Trace said. “Where did you get this niche business jargon?”

“I’m sophisticated,” Sage feigned snobbishness. “Haven’t you noticed? You know, we could make candles in our spare time,” Sage joked.

“Let’s not forget the gift basket market too,” Trace replied.

“Now you’re thinkin’,” Sage said. “By the way, how far to Fiji?”

“Twelve hundred miles,” Trace said, “eight to ten days.”

“Any breaks in between?” Sage asked.

“There is an island a little past halfway,” Sage said. “It’s about thirty miles south of our course. We’ll see how we feel in a few days. I think we’d all like to get back to Suva, but not in any hurry.”

“What about Suva?” Sage asked. “What are we going to do with the gold? Things have changed. It’s no longer a five-way split, it’s three—I’m assuming.”

“It is,” Trace assured. “Before we left Suva the last time, I checked about getting The Tramp Islander into a dry dock. They said if there’s an opening when we return, they can do it all in a week. There’s some serious updates planned; sonar, global positioning, and a new roller for toilet paper. That will give me a chance to find two men, line up some freight, and paint the town a couple of nights.”

“Paint the town?” Sage asked.

Trace chuckled. “Believe it or not, I’m getting to the age where a three games at the bowling alley is painting town. You know me, I never quite liked the night life. And the last time I tried it, I ended up owning a boat. I’m quitting while I’m ahead.”

“So it sounds like art museums, flower shows, and walks on the beach,” Sage said.

“You’re not far off,” Trace said. “That’s what I came here for. You can find yourself and meaning at an art museum or a beach, but find trouble at a bar or casino.”

“They got horses on Fiji,” Sage asked. “I’d like to ride. I’m losing my butt calluses.”

“I think they do,” Sage said. “If you don’t mind, we can do that together. And if some cattle need to be herded, we’ll do that for free.”

“Just so ya know,” Sage said, “I ain’t goin’ nowhere on ya. What I mean is that I’m sticking around. I kinda like what I’m doin’ for now. When it gets old, I’ll be tellin’ ya.”

“That goes for me too,” Trace said. “I’ll be tellin’ ya. And by the way, I want you around when I pick a new crew. I wouldn’t buy a horse without a second opinion.”

“I never thought about this,” Sage said, “I might be the seasoned veteran on the deck.”

“How many men do you think have sailed on a schooner, know the knots, a jib from a jibe, and a mainstay?” Trace said.

“A few months ago I didn’t know port from starboard or bow from…” Sage paused, “What’s that called?”

“Well, for sure,” Trace said, “we’ll look for deckhands that can take a joke.”

Two Tamas In Paradis; Episode 10, Kuki In Palmerston

This is the tenth episode of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. It is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series. It will be posted in episodes. The plan is for two or three a week. There are fifty episodes. It has not been published yet. The reader is given a sneak preview. 

It suffices to say that because this is one novel in a series, there may be things not understood unless one knows what has taken place in previous novels from this series. Here is a link to the first novel in the series: The Big Gamble in Paradise, paperback or Kindle.

Kuki In Palmerston 

Trace saw no reason for a night watch, given the rain's intensity. They slept amid the storm; abating at times but returning as if timed to prevent a deep sleep. Eventually, he became accustomed to it and slept soundly. 

Morning arrived. Trace woke to the sound of the rain on the roof and deck and Makani prepping breakfast. He looked out the porthole, and even the gloomy, rain-saturated day could not hide the beauty of Palmerston Island. 

The rain was steady enough for nature's shower. Trace grabbed a bar of soap, a washcloth, and a towel. He climbed to the pilothouse. He stripped naked and walked out on the aft deck. After showering in the rain, he dried off and dressed. As he was about to go down the companionway, Sage came up. He had a bar of soap, a washcloth, and a towel.

“Last night, Makani told me I was beginning to ripen,” Trace said. “Ripen’s my word. I’m not sure what he said, but he had a terrible look on his face when he said it.”

“He told me the same thing. I didn’t want to ask him what the word was,” Sage said. “Kinda makes ya wonder who’s in charge.”

Later, they sat at the mess table and talked about the sleepless night as they ate.

“Is there really any need for us to go ashore?” Trace said.

“I can’t see any,” Sage said.

“Me too,” Makani said. 

“We just need a couple of days to recharge our batteries,” Trace said. “It would be good to have at least one good night of sleep. You want to stay another night?”

Sage’s and Makani’s mouths were full of food, so they bobbed their heads affirmatively. 

By noon, the rain came lighter. Trace lay on the bench in the pilothouse with his back propped against the back wall. He was reading a crime novel purchased for a nickel from a discount table at a bookstore in Suva. He laid it on his lap when he heard Makani come up the companionway.

“Good book?” Makani asked.

“Not really,” Trace said.

“Why read?” Makani asked.

“Well,” Trace said, “I’d kind of like to find out who killed Dame Winslow and made off with the family jewels.”

“Just go to last page,” Makani said. “It seem so simple.”

“Do you like fishing?” Trace asked.

“Oh yeah,” Makani said.

“Why?” Trace said.

“Like to eat fish, good,” Makani said.

“It takes time, right?” Trace asked.

“Sometimes much time,” Makani said.

“Why not just buy the fish?” Trace said. “You sometimes fish for hours before you catch a fish, right?”

“But fishing is good,” Makani said, “Good to look and follow. Toss spear is good. More than just catching fish. You sometimes in water, feel good. You look around, feel good. Sometime with friends, you talk, feel good.”

“That’s the way it is with a book,” Trace said. “It’s more than the ending—eating the fish; it’s hunting it down. Reading is like that.”

“But you say not good book,” Makani said.

“Did you come up here to spoil my reading,” Trace said, “or was there something important?”

“Now I don’t remember,” Makani said. “Very bad book.”

Trace dropped his head and slowly shook it from side to side.

“I make joke,” Makani said. “That book so bad, you no laugh anymore. I look out porthole see man come in camakau. Fat man, maybe head man.”

Trace tossed the book to his feet and stood. From the port side, a shirtless heavy man approached, paddling a camakau.

“Fetch a towel,” Trace said. “And you better make it a big one.”

Trace exited the pilot house and walked to the foredeck. He tossed a line to the man in the camakau. 

Trace reached out to help the man. 

“No, no,” he said. I’m a big man; I’ll pull you in.”

Although round, the man sprang on deck with the dexterity of someone younger and trimmer.

When on deck, Trace extended his hand. “My name is Trace Troy. This boat is The Tramp Islander. You are welcome aboard. I am the captain.”

The man’s meaty hand grasped Trace’s hand. “My name is Moe. I live here.”

“Moe, step inside,” Trace said and showed him the way to the pilothouse. 

Makani came from below with a towel. He handed it to Trace and he handed it to Moe. He dried off.

“Appreciate that, very much,” Moe said.

“Let’s go below and have something to warm you up,” Trace said. “Whiskey?”

“Do you have beer?” Moe said.

“Plenty,” Trace said.

They climbed below and sat in the cushioned chairs on the opposite side of the mess. Makani brought two bottles of beer.

“Foster’s,” Moe said, “my favorite.”

They both took a swig.

“So,” Trace said, “you want to know what we are doing here. I have no problem with that. Somebody decides to park in front of my house and stay for a couple of days, I’d like to know too.”

“We get people all the time,” Moe said. “We don’t mind. We like visitors. Just don’t leave anything behind.”

“What about beer?” Trace smiled.

“There are exceptions,” Moe said. 

Sage walked in holding a bottle of beer.

“Sage, this is Moe,” Trace said. “He’s the investigative welcoming committee, right?”

“I guess you’re right,” Moe said.

“Moe, this is Sage,” Trace said, “the best friend any man could have.”

Sage shook Moe’s hand and sat in a chair.

“Makani,” Trace said, “grab a beer and join us.”

Makani removed a bottle of beer from the refrigerator and sat in the salon. He was introduced to Moe, and a conversation between the four continued.

There was a second round along with much laughter. 

Moe heaved the last swallow of beer from his bottle. “This has been good. I’m glad you stopped here. They rain will stop soon. Tomorrow, near sundown the island will have a kuki—we all eat together. Our children will dance for you, and the older ones will sing. Please come.”

“I will be there,” Trace said.

Sage and Makani accepted the invitation too.

The rain did stop. And the kuki was held. Children danced. Adults sang. Everyone laughed and ate. Near midnight, the crew of The Tramp Islander returned. They were tired. None undressed to go to bed. So tired, they spent another day anchored offshore.