A Grandpa's Notebook Part 6

'We had many adventures,' Suzanne said, 'We couldn't possibly tell them all today. How about my telling one today, and then Roger telling one tomorrow, and then me again the next day, and so on?'

'Sounds reasonable,' I replied.

We sat on the sand under the date palm. I leaned back against the tree. A date fell and bounced off the top of my head.

'I'm glad we didn't sit under the coconut palm,' I said, rubbing my head where the date had struck. We all laughed.

'OK, Suzanne.' I s.h.i.+fted about to get myself comfortable. 'Let's hear about the first adventure.'

'I'm going to tell our adventures just like they're happening right now,' Suzanne said.

'That's fine with me,' I said.

These are the stories told to me by Suzanne and Roger. I'm writing them down using the same words as Suzanne and Roger as we sat on the beach at Three Palms.

Dolphins Alongside.

It's a beautiful morning to go sailing, Suzanne began the telling. It' s Dad's vacation and we're going to Snug Harbor.

We load Snow White-that's the name of our sailboat, you know-with suitcases and boxes of food. We take our special toys and lots of other things for a long stay. When we are all ready, we cast off.

When we're far enough away from the slip, Dad hoists the sail. The breeze fills the sail and we head out to sea.

Roger and I sit with Dad at the helm to steer and Mother goes below to make sandwiches. We all wear life jackets. That just makes good sense, like wearing seat belts when you're riding in a car.

The sea is gentle and we're moving right along. Roger is looking out to sea as Dad and I talk.

Suddenly Roger shouts and points.

'Look. Dad. Suzanne. Look.'

'Where?' I ask. 'What do you see?'

'There, there,' Roger shouts, and points again. 'Do you see them?'

'See what?' I'm excited, but I don't know what to look for. 'Tell me what you're pointing at, Roger.'

'Dolphins. They're jumping out of the water and diving back in again. There. He points off the bow.

I look again, real hard, and I see what Roger is pointing at. A school of dolphins, leaping.

'Dolphins are mammals', Dad says, 'and different from fish. They're also very intelligent and friendly. Wave at them. Maybe they'll come closer and leap near the Snow White.'

So Roger and I wave at the dolphins and call out to them. 'Come on over,' we shout.

They must hear us because they change direction and jump and dive in our direction. When they're close they turn and swim alongside. Mother comes up and holds on to us as we lean against the rail and wave and call out to them.

The dolphins stay with us most of the way to the island. About a mile offsh.o.r.e they turn away. We're sorry to see them leave. I guess it's time for them to head for home.

'That was our first adventure of the trip. Would you like to hear about another one?'

'Sure would,' I said.

'OK,' said Roger. 'Let's meet here tomorrow, and I'll tell about our sailing into the harbor.'

Snug Harbor.

Today was Roger's turn, sailing into Snug Harbor.

Roger spread a map of the island to help follow the stories.

After the dolphins leave, we go forward to Snow White's bow. We watch the sh.o.r.eline slip by as we near the harbor entrance.

We're sailing east around Singalong Point. The sea is choppy as the breeze picks up.

We go aft to the stern. We're helping Dad and Mother do all the things that are important when a sailboat enters a harbor.

Dad gives Suzanne and me important jobs: the port and starboard watch. Suzanne has the port side and I have starboard. In sailing talk the 'port' side is on the left when you're facing the bow or forward, and 'starboard,' is on the right, also when you're facing forward.

We're in the channel that leads into the harbor, and we'll soon need a place to drop the boat's anchor. 'Dropping anchor' are more sailing words. They mean about the same as setting a car's brakes when the car stops in the driveway and the motor turned off.

Suzanne is watching to port, looking for drifting debris and logs, and to make sure the boat doesn't cut too close to the island. I'm taking care of starboard, watching for the same things, and for traffic heading our way from the open sea.

Mother is standing by to lower the sail when Dad gets Snow White to the mooring. Mooring, used this way is like a parking s.p.a.ce. Dad is steering the boat and trying to watch everything.

I see a speck on the horizon. It gets larger fast, coming in our direction.

'Dad,' I shout, 'motor boat. Big.'

'Where away?' Dad shouts back.

'Off the starboard bow,' I yell back and point. Dad and Mother look. Suzanne looks, too, but for only half a second, then she goes right back to her job, which is very important.

'Looks like she's really coming fast,' Mother warns.

'You're right,' Dad says, raising his binoculars to examine the motor boat.

'It' s a tour boat from the other islands,' Dad says, 'She'll tie up at Snug Harbor pier. With all those extra people on board this place may get crowded. We'd better get in as quickly as we can and find a good place to pitch our tents.'

Dad tells Mother to keep the sail spread and the lines taut to take as much wind as possible. Soon we're pa.s.sing the Snug Harbor pier and wave to a man who is fis.h.i.+ng. He waves back.

After our boat pa.s.ses the pier we're in the sheltered part of the harbor. Mother lowers the sail, and we drop anchor near the sh.o.r.e next to the flagpole. The tourist boat pulls in close behind us and ties up to the pier.

We load our camping supplies into our dinghy and row to the beach. As soon as Suzanne and I step ash.o.r.e we dash along the trail to the campsites and pick a good site for our tents.

Mother and Dad follow us with the gear. Working together, we pitch the tents, and get our food stored so it will be out of the way of animals. Soon, we're settled for the first night of our vacation.

'Well,' I said when Roger finished. 'That sounds like an exciting start. What happened afterward?'

'Let's meet here tomorrow,' Suzanne said, 'and we'll talk about it.'

Hike.

Think back to the last story. Roger finished telling about Snow White's arrival at Snug Harbor and the race to the campsite. They did locate a real cozy campsite and settled in for the night. Now it's Suzanne's turn to tell what happened afterward. Today's story will be in Suzanne's words.

We pitch our tent in an open s.p.a.ce just across the trail from where a girl is flying a kite. It's late afternoon by the time we're settled, so Dad makes a campfire and Mother cooks our dinner over the flames. We sit around the campfire and balance our plates on our laps.

After we finish we help Mother and Dad clean our campsite, and get rid of leftovers. The sky is still light, so we take a hike.

Dad leads the way single file along the trail, then Roger, me, and Mother at the end. In that way Roger can watch Dad, just in case he needs help, and I take care of Mother. Well, Dad and Mother do sort of look after us, too. Anyhow, off we go.

Dad heads toward Mount Nokomis, a low hill a short distance from the campsite. We push through tall gra.s.s and around bushes and rocks. Soon we're climbing the slope of Mount Nokomis.

I hear a rustling sound behind a bush.

'What' s that noise?' I turn to Mother and whisper.

'I really don't know,' Mother says. We look to where the rustling is coming from but can't see anything unusual. Meanwhile, Dad and Roger stop and Mother and I catch up to them. We stand close, the four of us, and look into the bushes.

There it is again. The rustling sound is like leaves and branches gently shaking. We can tell from which clump of bushes the sounds are coming. Dad steps between us and the bushes. Roger and I stand right behind Dad to protect him. Mother is very close.

The rustling is louder. From out behind a bush steps a doe. We relax. Whew!

The doe isn't very big and it's friendly but shy. It looks us over and wiggles it's ears in our direction to hear any noises we might make. She also lifts her head to smell the air. Deer have very sensitive noses for smelling danger, and that's what the doe is doing. She's trying to decide if we're also friendly. We stand quietly so as not to alarm her. After a while the doe moves a little way toward us and smells the air again. I guess it's satisfied because it comes close.

Slowly I reach out and touch the doe's fur. She doesn't seem to mind. The fur feels firm and smooth.

After a short while the doe moves away. It really is getting late, you know, and the setting sun changes the day into evening. The doe needs to find a place to spend the night. Wiggling her ears and flipping her tail, she moves off and disappears into the bushes.

We start back to the campsite and make our way along the trail down the side of Mount Nokomis. Soon we're back at camp.

Dad lights a lantern and gets the campfire going. We put sweaters on, sit on logs next to the fire and sing camping songs. The girl with the guitar joins us, and so do other campers and everyone joins in the singing. The moon and stars s.h.i.+ne in the sky and it's very peaceful.

Suzanne and Roger rose, waved to me, and headed for home.

'Don't forget to be here tomorrow,' Roger shouted. 'We had another interesting experience the next day.'

'I'll be here.' I waved back.

Visit with Two Seals.

True to their word, Suzanne and Roger arrived at Three Palms the following day. We sat under the banana palm, and Roger told the next story.

This is the day for the hike to Point Nemo, on the other side of the island. It will be an all day trip, so we start early.

Mother packs our knapsacks with sandwiches, cookies, and cans of juice while Dad inspects our hiking gear, like for extra socks, sweaters, towels and things like that. We're ready and off we go. Dad takes the point, then, in line, Suzanne, me, and Mother.

Instead of the trail that winds up and around the top of the island, we head straight across, pa.s.sing other campsites. We say h.e.l.lo to people camping along the trail.

We stop to listen to a woman strumming a guitar. She is singing 'On top of Ol' Smokey....' We gather round and join in the singing. We wave good-bye and move along.

We see a man with a camera; he is taking photographs of flowers. We stop to watch. We leave him and return to the trail where it opens into a field. We follow the trail across a hill to Point Nemo, and from there to the Point Nemo Lighthouse.

At the lighthouse it's time for lunch. Dad spreads a big checkered cloth on the ground and Mother takes the sandwiches and drinks from our knapsacks. We have lunch, rest, and sing songs. It's time to explore.

Climbing down to the beach near the lighthouse we run to the water's edge. Suzanne and I take our shoes off and race each other through waves that tumble over themselves on their way in. After a while we stop running so that our breath can catch up with us. Standing at the water's edge we s.h.i.+eld our eyes with our hands, and look toward Seal Rock.

Brown shapes swim in the sea. They wriggle out of the water on to the narrow strip of sand below the rocks. They're seals. More seals wriggle out of the water. They're brown and of all sizes.

They bark. Have you heard a seal bark? It sounds like they have something stuck in their throats. They really don't, you know. That's just their way of talking to each other.

'Look, Roger, look,' Suzanne calls and points.

A seal is heading toward the beach nearby. Reaching shallow water, the seal raises its head, looks around and sees us. I think it knows we're friendly because it comes up on to the beach. The seal is followed closely by a much smaller seal. It's a mother seal and her cub.

Suzanne and I want to get closer to the two seals, but we know that if we move we might frighten them away. We watch and don't move.

The cub goes to its mother and they play in the sand. Then the mother seal cuddles and nurses the cub. In a little while they head back to the water's edge. The two seals look back at us. I must have imagined it, but for a moment I think I see the cub wave its flipper toward us. Anyhow, I think they know we're their friends.

The seals slip into the water and swim off in the direction of Seal Rock. Soon they disappear among the whitecaps. They've gone home.

Suzanne and I walk back to Mother and Dad sitting on the beach. They were watching, too. Dad talks to us about seals and other animals of the land, the sky, and the sea, and how they and we all fit together on Planet Earth.

We start back to camp. By this time the sun is starting down. It's late afternoon. There is still light when we arrive at our campsite. Dad lights the campfire and Mother makes supper. After we've eaten, and clear away the leftovers, we sit around the fire. Dad tells more stories about sailing and long hikes. Then we sing songs. *** We stood, stretched, and walked toward the dunes.

'Any more stories?' I asked.

'Oh, yes,' Suzanne replied. 'The best is yet to come. Telling our adventures is such fun we're going to make it last for a few more days.'

'Tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow.'

Noises in the Night.

The next morning we're back under the palms. Suzanne takes up the story.

This is about what happened late the same night we hiked to Point Nemo. As with the other nights, we get into our pjs, brush our teeth and wash our faces. We hug and kiss Mother and Dad and I pick up our flashlight. The tent doesn't have electric lights, so we have an electric lantern that we hang from a hook in one of the wooden rods that hold up the tent.

We take our flashlight along to see by as we get ready for bed. As we move the light around it makes shadows on the tent walls. The shadows jump in all directions, stretch tall and shrink short, first on one wall, then on the other.

Roger waves his arms, jiggles his fingers and twists his body, which makes his shadow twist and shake, too. It's weird and very funny. We laugh at the shadows.

After a while, we stop, crawl into our sleeping bags and zip them up. I reach out and turn off the lantern. A faint glow comes in from under the flaps. Everything is normal, just as it's been since we arrived at Snug Harbor. I guess we fell asleep.

Suddenly, I'm wide-awake. I hear Roger sleep-breathing. That can't be what wakened me. I listen hard. There it is again. The sound is like someone shaking and rustling paper bags. Then another sound, like tin cans rattling. I'm curious.

'This needs to be looked into,' I think.