The Inside Passage (Ted Higuera Series Book 1) (14 page)

Horseshoe Bay, Canada

Jack joined them
for coffee the next morning. With his mass of bushy gray hair and beard, and
his little round body, he reminded Ted of a big cuddly koala bear.

 “An’ where are
yez headed next?” Jack asked.

 “I guess we’ll
just keep making our way north.” Chris spooned sugar into his coffee. “We want
to see Princes Louisa Inlet and Desolation Sound.”

Jack smacked his
lips when he sipped his coffee. Mama always said that was bad manners.
Oh
well,
Ted thought.
Everybody has their shortcomings.

“Beautiful spots,
children, beautiful.” 

 “We’re going to
go further north, all the way up Vancouver Island.” Meagan sat down next to
Jack at the table in the main saloon. 

“Ah, then when yez
reach the Broughton’s y’ must make yer way to Nelson Inlet. It’s a long fjord
that makes its way north east of Broughton Island. Not many boats go up there,
there’s not much t’ see besides cliffs and trees.”

“Then why go
there?” Ted asked.

“At the head of
the inlet, Laddie, there’s the nicest hot springs y’ve ever seen. God’s own
piece of paradise.” 

“Wow, a hot springs?” Meagan leaned forward. “Can we swim in it?”

“Aye, that y’ can,
lass.” Jack’s face crinkled into a smile. “That’s the attraction.” Jack’s voice
took on a conspiratorial tone. “The tradition is, that y’ skinny dip in it.
I’ve whiled away many a pleasant afternoon in the rocks over the hot springs
watchin’ the young people frolic around in the buff.”

“You dirty old
man.” Ted grinned and smacked Jack on the shoulder.

“Oh, back off.”
Meagan defended Jack. “He just has a healthy curiosity.”

“At my age, I’ve
not much else I can do in that department but look, so look I do. Be careful
around William and Mary Island though. The only good anchorage in the Inlet is
at Prince William Bay, but there’s some sort o’ research station there and them
as runs it aren’t welcomin’ to strangers.”    

****

The Straits of Georgia, Canada

For five days the
Defiant
worked her way north with some of the best weather Ted had seen in the
northwest. Puffy white clouds rimmed the sky; the water reflected the deep blue
above. Ten to fifteen knot winds raised a slight sea. The
Defiant
plowed
through the waves like a spirited stallion.

Twice pods of
dolphins came to play. Ted was so excited he almost fell overboard. Three of
the black and white spotted dolphins glided alongside the sloop. It
amazed
Ted how they could move so fast without moving their tails. Three more surfaced
just ahead of the boat and surfed in the bow wave.

In addition to
dolphins, Ted spotted eagles, seals and sea lions. The scenery was equally
spectacular. Snow-capped peaks dropped dramatically into the deep green water set
against crystal blue skies.

The Straits of
Georgia must be forty miles wide here
, Ted thought to himself. Far to the
west he could see the faint outline of Vancouver Island. Emerald islands popped
up out of the shimmering water. From small, tree-covered rocks to large,
populated islands with regular ferry service to the mainland, the variety was
endless.

Princess Louisa Inlet took his breath away. It reminded Ted of an enchanted fairyland. Once
they threaded the rapids at the entrance to the Inlet, it felt as though they
were in a mountain lake. The stillness and isolation of the Inlet gave Ted the
feeling of some kind of natural cathedral. Sheer walls of trees dropped sharply
into the deep water. Chatterbox Falls poured into the fjord at the head of the Inlet.
The late afternoon sun turned the water golden. Glaciered peaks marched off
endlessly into the distance.

The fifth day out
of Horseshoe Bay, they took the
Defiant
across the Straits to Campbell River on Vancouver Island. The sun abandoned them, but the winds increased to a
steady twenty knots under gray skies. With reefed main, they held a single tack
all day long.

****

Campbell River, Canada

Ted grumbled about
cleaning up the breakfast dishes while Chris did his morning checks and got
ready to get under way. Ted came on deck in time to see Meagan handle the dock
lines as Chris pulled the
Defiant
away from the slip.
How come she
gets to do the manly stuff while the Mexican kid is stuck in the galley?

“Don’t you want
the chart or the cruising guide?” Meagan asked as Chris piloted the boat out of
the marina. “My dad never left the dock without at least a chart on deck.”

“It’s okay.” Chris
tapped his forehead. “I went over them this morning. I’ve got them right here.”

Meagan seemed
bothered, but Ted had endless faith in Chris’ ability to recall printed
material. He had lived with him through four years of college.

 Without a breath
of wind, they motored up Discovery Passage, initially assisted by the flooding
tide. Ted watched the way points pass by swiftly as they approached Race Point
on the eastern shore of Vancouver Island, about two hundred miles north of
Vancouver.

He felt pinned in
by a heavy gray overcast that clung to the mountains on either side of the
narrow passage. The placid water reflected the dull sky. Tree-covered land
dropped off into the water in sheer cliffs. The further they progressed up the
channel, the narrower it got, adding to Ted’s growing sense of claustrophobia.

“The tide’s
changed.” Chris motioned towards at the GPS. “The current’s slowing us down
now. The knot meter shows six knots but the GPS says that we’re only doing
three.”

Ted didn’t pay
much attention to the navigation stuff. That was Chris’ job.

“What time do you
think we’ll get to Blind Channel Resort?” Meagan put down her Nora Roberts
novel. “The
Waggoner Cruising Guide
says that there’s a good restaurant
there.”

“Its about thirty miles.
I’m thinking we can make it in six hours.”

“Should we call
ahead and make a reservation?” Meagan asked.

Chris pulled his
Blackberry out of his shorts pocket. “No can do. I’m not getting any reception
out here.”

Time seemed to
slow down. Ted felt like he could walk faster than the boat was traveling.

As they neared the
Seymour Narrows Chris said, “There’s something wrong with the GPS. The little
boat icon’s spinning around.”

 “What’s the
matter?” Meagan went around the steering wheel to look over his shoulder.

“Usually the
little boat points in the direction we’re going.” The blue icon on the screen
settled down. “Now it’s pointing due west even though we’re going north.”

“What could cause
that?” Meagan wrapped her arms around Chris’ waist.

“I don’t know.”
Chris was silent for a moment. “If it was magnetic, like the compass, I’d say
that there was a local magnetic disturbance, but it runs off of satellite
telemetry. At least our speed has picked up,” he added. “We’re doing over seven
knots now.”

Ted’s anxiety
meter inched up a notch. As they moved further into the narrows, he noticed a
protected bay open up on their port side. The boat flew through the water, but
the shore inched by. Ted’s sense of impatience grew. For the better part of an
hour, Chris piloted the
Defiant
towards the light on the small island
off the point. Where the channel made a hard right turn it narrowed to less
than one hundred yards across.

The closer they
came to the island, the more tide rips Ted began to see. Water tumbled over
itself, looking like rapids in a river. “Hey, dude, you see that white water?” Ted
felt goose bumps on his arm.

“Yeah, but the
chart says that there’s deep water here. I think it’s just tide rips.” Chris
didn’t sound too confident.

“There’s
whirlpools forming over close to the island.” Ted’s spider sense went wild.

“I see ‘em. Jesus
Christ.” Chris’ voice sped up. “We’ll stay out in the channel to avoid ‘em.”

“But that’s where
the tides rip are.” Meagan sounded anxious too.

“It shouldn’t be
much of a problem.” Chris took a deep breath.

The
Defiant
continued to plod towards the light on the point. Ted had a sinking feeling in
his stomach.
Something ain’t right here.

They were finally
approaching the light. “Hey, Chris,” Ted’s voice rose slightly. “You think
we’re doing okay? It seems like we’ve been up to this point before.”

Chris checked the
GPS screen. “The GPS says we’re making five knots.” 

It seemed to Ted
like hours since they rounded Race Point. “We’re sure not makin’ much progress.”
He pointed towards the island. “See that electrical tower on the hill? Line it
up with the light on the point. It’s not moving. We’re not going anywhere.”

Suddenly a wall of
white water rose up in front of the
Defiant
as if a giant hand pushed it
up. Ted gasped to catch his breath, his stomach suddenly felt nauseous. “Look
out!”

Chris swung the
bow to port to avoid the tide rip. A whirlpool formed on their starboard side
in a matter of seconds. “Jesus, you see how fast that whirlpool formed?”
Despite the cool day, Chris wiped the sweat from his brow, his breathing
shallow.

“It feels like
we’re going backwards,” Meagan said.

“No, we’re making
five knots.” Chris glanced at the GPS. “But the little boat is pointing due
south. I wonder what’s wrong with this thing.” He gently tapped the GPS.

When Chris turned
to avoid the tide rip, the current swept the
Defiant
away from the
opening. Now they fought their way back to the light.

“I think we’re
going to have to stay close to shore to get through the opening.” Chris had a
determined look on his face.

“But that’s where
the whirlpools are the worse.” Meagan responded.

“I know. The
current in the middle of the channel is too strong. The whirlpools don’t look
too big,” Chris pointed towards the whirlpools. “I think we’re just going to
have to fight our way through them.”
 

He’s forcing it,
Ted thought,
I sure hope he knows what he’s doin’.

It took nearly an
hour to work their way back to the light. This time, Chris was careful to keep
close to shore.

“Look out!” Ted
yelled. A whirlpool opened up on their starboard beam. In a matter of seconds,
the water had gone from calm to a whirling funnel. The whirlpool rapidly moved
towards the boat.

“Hold on,” Chris
shouted as the
Defiant
lurched to port, spinning out of control.

The Pacific Ocean, 400 nautical
miles west of Vancouver Island

The green blip
continued to move towards the center of the radar screen.
Who was it? Could
the American Coast Guard know we’re out here?

“Do you have cover
story ready if we are boarded?” Yasim asked.

Ahmad nodded. If
they were boarded, he would act as the captain. Yasim, with his heavy accent
would remain silent. “Yes, we’re researchers investigating ocean currents.”
Who’s
going to believe that crap? Maybe they’ll just sink us and put me out of my
misery.

“I will alert
Mohammed and Kalil.” Yasim walked out the door. “Allah needs all of our eyes
tonight.”

In less than an
hour, the blip was near the center of the radar screen.

Ahmad quelled his
stomach with an act of will and yelled out the pilot house window. “They should
be off our right side, at two o’clock.”

“I don’t see any
lights,” Mohammed replied.

“Yes, there he
is.” Kalil pointed. “Look, a signal.”

Ahmad saw a flash
of light off to his right, then a pause, then the light flashed again. The
point of light in the darkness seemed to accentuate the rolling of the ocean.
Ahmad’s stomach rebelled and he ran for the rail.

“Return signal,”
Yasim ordered.

Mohammed pointed a
powerful search light in the direction of the stranger and flashed his reply.
Hani switched off the autopilot and headed for the light.

As Ahmad fought to
control his stomach, the two vessels pulled closer together. Gradually, a
battered old wreck emerged from the dark.

A voice shouted
down in Arabic.

“It is Qayyum,”
Yasim said. “I would recognize voice anywhere.”

Hani brought the
fishing boat alongside the rusty freighter. The freighter’s crew dropped heavy hawser
lines and Mohammed and Kalil made them fast.

Let them handle
the rope. I’m just going to sit here and quietly die,
Ahmad thought.

The voice shouted
something in Arabic.

“He says stand by
to receive the cargo,” Mohammed translated.

Mohammed and Kalil
removed the hatch cover and Hani turned on the lights on deck and in the fish
hold. Ahmad heard the sound of heavy machinery as a boom swung a bulging cargo
net over the freighter’s side.

Protected by the
freighter, it felt like they were on a mill pond. For the first time in two
days, Ahmad’s stomach settled down to normal, but he felt physically drained.

The winches
whirred and the cargo net descended into the
Valkyrie’s
fish hold. The
crate hit the deck with a loud bump. Ahmad’s heart stopped.

“Careful with
that,” Yasim shouted. “Could blow us all to paradise.”

Nothing happened.
Ahmad realized that he hadn’t been breathing.

“Secure the crate
and stand by for the next load,” Hani shouted.

The freighter
hoisted the cargo net back to its deck, then lowered it again, this time with a
pallet of smaller crates. Mohammed and Kalil secured them in the hold as well.

On the last trip
to the
Valkyrie’s
deck, Ahmad saw a smallish man wearing a shimage and egal,
the scarf and head band of the dessert Bedouins, cling to the outside of the
cargo net.

The man said
something in Arabic as he climbed free of the net. Yasim replied and embraced
the stranger. “This Qayyum, he is truly Osama’s right hand.”

Ahmad could see
moisture glistening in Yasim’s eyes.

Qayyum barked out
a command.

Ahmad and Kalil
stood motionless.

“He says cast off
lines,” Yasim instructed. “Let us get away from infidel freighter as soon as
possible.”

Mohammed was
already untying the bow line.

As soon as Hani
moved the
Valkyrie
out from the freighter’s lee, Ahmad’s stomach
performed cartwheels. He bit his lip as Hani set the course due east, back to
the Canadian shoreline.

“Do we know what
our target is?” Ahmad gasped as Yasim joined them in the wheel house.

“Qayyum has not
yet blessed me with information. We know as much as we need to know to do our
part. All will be revealed in good time.”

****

The Seymour Narrows, Canada

Ted had never
thought about dying before. Now, in the flash of an instant, he looked into the
whirlpool and saw eternity spreading before him.

Chris spun the
wheel hard to starboard but the
Defiant
didn’t answer. She kept spinning
to port. Chris lost control of the boat in the small whirlpool. She heeled hard
over, but popped right back up. Finally, the rudder took hold and
Defiant
straightened out.

“Jesus, dude,” Ted
said, trying to control his fear. “Is this a good idea?” He scanned the water
for the next disturbance, his heart beating wildly.

“Look at this.” Meagan
returned on deck with the
Waggoner’s Cruising Guide
. “It says here that
the currents in the Narrows run up to fourteen knots. It says that they should
only be approached at slack water. What time was slack water?”

“About three hours
ago.” Chris voice sounded tiny. “When we left Campbell River.”

“
I
think we
should get out of here.” Meagan eyes burned with anger. “Can’t we go into Menzies Bay and anchor? We can wait for slack tide there.”

“I don’t think
we’re going to make it through the Narrows.” Chris looked like all the fight
had drained out of him. “What does the cruising guide say about the bay?”

Ted sensed a
subtle shifting of power between the couple.

“What? You mean
the Great Brain doesn’t remember?” Tears formed in Meagan’s eyes.

“I
didn’t read about this area.” Chris’ voice was barely above a whisper.
 

“Fat lot of good
that big brain of yours does if you don’t use it.” Meagan sniffled and thumbed
through the thick book. “Menzies bay is a good anchorage. You have to work your
way around a sand spit.”  

“Let’s make our
way across the narrows to the bay.” Chris’ face burned a bright pink.

“Dude, look behind
you.” Ted pointed. “We have company.”

An orange rigid
inflatable boat charged up behind the
Defiant.
They pulled alongside and
signaled Chris to cut power.

“Oh shit,” Chris
looked like a kid on Christmas morning that just discovered that he doesn’t
have any presents. “The Coast Guard.”
 

“Where’re you
heading?” the Coast Guardsman yelled across twenty feet of water.

“Menzies Bay,” Chris answered.

“You’re not trying
to force the Narrows are you?” The Coast Guardsman spoke with broad movements
of his arms to emphasize his words.

“No.” Chris yelled
back and pointed. “We’re headed to Menzies Bay.”

“Good.” The Coast
Guardsman talked to them like he thought they were stupid. “These narrows are
really dangerous. The current runs at over fourteen knots.”

The inflatable
fell back and Chris piloted the
Defiant
towards the bay. Ted watched the
Coast Guard shadow them from about twenty yards behind.

The strong current
pushed the
Defiant
sideways through the water as they tried to make their
way across. Ted noticed that the bow pointed more and more into the current as
they crabbed across the entrance to the Narrows.

“Oh shit. Now I
get it.” Chris pointed at the GPS. “The boat is pointed in the direction we’re
making good over the bottom, not our compass course. When it was pointing
backwards, we were going backwards over the bottom.”

“So there’s
nothing wrong with it?” Meagan asked.

“No, there’s
something wrong with the navigator.” Chris remained silent, brooding the rest
of the way across the channel.

Meagan and Ted had
the good sense not to intrude upon his dark thoughts.

“Cut your power.”
The Coast Guard boat pulled even with them again, now that they were safely in
the entrance to Menzies Bay and out of harm’s way. Chris followed their orders.

 “The current in
the Narrows runs at fourteen knots.” The Coast Guardsman yelled at Chris like
he was some kind of idiot. “You can’t pass against the tide.”

“Yeah, we found
out. We’re going to anchor here and wait for slack water.”

“Do you have a
tide table aboard?”

“Yes.”

“Then use it. We
get pretty tired of having to pick people out of the water up here. The next
time you try something stupid, you might want to put on your life jackets and
close the companionway hatch.”

The patrol boat
spun on its keel and flew away in a spray of white water. Ted could feel Chris’
humiliation.

“Chris . . .” Meagan
started.

“Don’t say a
thing.” Chris held up his hands. “Either of you. Let’s just get inside the bay
and anchor. I never want to talk about this again.”