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.
Arrival At Suva
Suva protrudes like a lush green thumb from Fiji Island, dotted with houses and buildings. The harbor is busy. The danger is the more than a dozen sunken vessels scattered in the harbor.
Trace’s time on the Bering etched in his mind to never take anything on the sea or harbors for granted. A boat is a dangerous place, whether sailing or moored.
Suva was not home to Trace like Texas. But for now and the near future, it would have to do. ‘Finally,’ he thought, looking at the harbor, ’a long time coming.’
He grabbed the mic. “Makani, Suva starboard. Wake Sage.”
Fifteen minutes later, Sage dashed up the companionway with his hair combed and a fresh shave.
“Look at you,” Trace said, “you look like you’re ready for a photo shoot. Expecting to meet someone?”
“Nah,” Sage said, “when I go for a room at a hotel, I don’t want them to take a look at me and say there’s no vacancies.”
“I called ahead a half an hour ago,” Trace said. “Our usual spot is open. We’ll dock there. The dry docking is set up for two days from now.”
“When do you want the sails dropped?” Sage said.
“I’ll call Makani and do them now,” Trace said.
“I’ll get ‘em myself,” Sage said.
As soon as the sails were dropped, Trace started the engine. He slowly made a starboard turn into the harbor. He pointed the bow toward the far end of the harbor.
After securing the sails, Sage came back into the pilothouse.
“Take the wheel,” Trace said and grabbed the binoculars from a hook next to the chart desk. “I’m going to scan ahead and make sure there’s nothing new in the way.”
Trace walked to the pulpit and put the binoculars to his eyes. He scanned The Tramp Islander’s path from the shore to the dock. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. However, as he sighted the area they were going to moor, he noticed something that surprised and startled him.
He rushed back to the pilothouse.
“We have trouble,” Trace said.
“What?” Sage said, “The police.”
“Worse,” Trace said.
“What could be worse?” Sage said.
“My dad is sitting on some wooden crates,” Sage said.
“Your dad!” Sage said. “That’s great.”
“Not really,” Trace said.
“Nah,” Sage said, “father and son together again. And in a place where he’s a legend, that’s great!”
“Before you get all sentimental,” Trace said, “Coyote is with him.”
“Coyote,” Sage said slowly, “my dad!”
“Yep,” Trace said.
“My dad alone or your dad alone would be great,” Sage said, “but together.”
“Well, one thing is good,” Trace said.
“And that would be?” Sage said.
“They’re not in handcuffs,” Trace said.
Sage broke into laughter. “That means they escaped.”
They said nothing until Trace swung The Tramp Islander to pull next to the dock.
“Look,” Trace said, “we’re going to be dry docked for a week. Let’s have a good week with our dads, keep them out of trouble, and at the end of the week send them on their way.”
“I think if we stay focused, we can pull it off,” Sage said. “Quiet days at the beach, Snorkeling for a day.”
“Fishing,” Trace said, “they’ll like fishing.”
“What else? What else?” Sage said. “We need more.”
“Tourist boat around the island,” Trace said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sage said, “that’s good, a whole day.”
“We can rent a car and drive them around the island,” Trace said. “Bang, bang, bang, all those things right in a row. We won’t have to worry about the next couple of days, at their age, they’ll be worn out.”
“That’s the plan,” Sage said. “Great! You got rid of two no-account connivers, you can handle two old has-been ranchers.”
They looked at each other. And said at the same time, “Who are we kidding?”
“It’s worth a try,” Sage said.
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