shake my head not wanting to look at her. What was Sara
thinking bringing her along?
“Yeah. I know a little something about pirates. You
ever hear of Edward Teach?”
I shake my head no.
“Figures. You Yankees only know him by his other
name, Blackbeard.
I sit up straight. “Go on.”
“He used to sail the waters near where we live.
Everyone knows all the stories, but no one's ever found any
treasure. Y'all are just wasting your time. But it's a heck of a
nice day for a sail.”
“Where do you live?” There's a lobster pot just off
our bow, so I steer just to starboard of it.
“Weren't you listening? Outer Banks.” She shakes her
head at me. “We live in a little town on the very end of the Outer
Banks called Hatteras. That's where my dad keeps his charter
boat.”
Sara has now joined us up in the cockpit. “Her dad
runs fishing charters off his boat. In the summer when she's not in
school, Jo usually helps out.”
“So Blackbeard used to sail around there? That's so
cool.”
“No. It's not cool ,” Josephine says. “Pirates
were nothing but a bunch of drunken cowards who slaughtered
innocent people, including children, and stole their money.
So when people walk around going ' Arhh, Scurvy dog, ' I want
to punch ’em in the face. That's like saying the Nazi's we a fun
bunch of guys.”
I glance at Sara and she gives me a look back.
Changing the subject, I ask, “So if you help your dad on the
charter boat in the summer, what are you doing here?”
Sara answers instead, “Jo’s just up here visiting
for a few weeks. Our parents thought it'd be a good idea if we
spent some time together.”
“I can answer for myself,” Josephine says looking
down at her hands. She's silent for a moment while she thinks. “The
truth is, my dad's in a little bit of a money struggle.” Almost in
a whisper she says, “We might lose the boat and the house.
Dad and Mom thought it might be easier to work through the problem
if I were here visiting Sara.”
“Oh.” I'm not sure what to say to that.
Sara leans over and gives Josephine a hug. “It'll be
okay. Your dad'll figure something out. He always does.”
“So what happened?” I ask. “How come your dad's
having problems? Is no one fishing anymore?”
“It's not really any of your business,” Josephine
snaps. “But I'll tell you anyway. When those greedy dogs of OAPEC
raised the price of gasoline, the price at the pump sky-rocketed to
$0.88 a gallon. And at the marina where my dad fills up the boat,
it's almost $1.45! Can you believe that? $1.45 just for a gallon of
gas. Our boat usually takes on about 250 gallons of fuel, so he had
to raise his prices for a day of fishing charters just to make a
little money. It's not going well.”
Josephine stands up in the heeling boat as we rock
through the waves. I notice that even as the boat bounces off each
wave, she doesn't seem to have any problem standing. Most people
who don't normally go out in boats would have been thrown to the
deck by now. She looks out at the water, and then climbs down the
ladder into the cabin.
Sara moves over near me with our shoulders touching.
“She's having a tough time with her dad about to lose the boat, so
go easy on her.”
“Go easy?” I steer around another lobster pot. “I
don't know if you've noticed, but she's giving me a hard
time.”
Sara wraps her arms around me while I'm trying to
steer the boat, and gives me a little squeeze followed with a kiss
on my cheek. “Just go easy on her, okay?”
Later, we're about halfway to Damariscove Island.
The wind is still steady, but the air is starting to feel more damp
than usual. I know from experience there's a good chance fog will
settle in.
Sara calls down into the cabin, “What are you doing
down there, Jo?”
“Just looking through this logbook of yours.”
Josephine pokes her head up through the opening. “I think I found
something. In these pages—” she holds open the logbook and turns
back to a page
thinking bringing her along?
“Yeah. I know a little something about pirates. You
ever hear of Edward Teach?”
I shake my head no.
“Figures. You Yankees only know him by his other
name, Blackbeard.
I sit up straight. “Go on.”
“He used to sail the waters near where we live.
Everyone knows all the stories, but no one's ever found any
treasure. Y'all are just wasting your time. But it's a heck of a
nice day for a sail.”
“Where do you live?” There's a lobster pot just off
our bow, so I steer just to starboard of it.
“Weren't you listening? Outer Banks.” She shakes her
head at me. “We live in a little town on the very end of the Outer
Banks called Hatteras. That's where my dad keeps his charter
boat.”
Sara has now joined us up in the cockpit. “Her dad
runs fishing charters off his boat. In the summer when she's not in
school, Jo usually helps out.”
“So Blackbeard used to sail around there? That's so
cool.”
“No. It's not cool ,” Josephine says. “Pirates
were nothing but a bunch of drunken cowards who slaughtered
innocent people, including children, and stole their money.
So when people walk around going ' Arhh, Scurvy dog, ' I want
to punch ’em in the face. That's like saying the Nazi's we a fun
bunch of guys.”
I glance at Sara and she gives me a look back.
Changing the subject, I ask, “So if you help your dad on the
charter boat in the summer, what are you doing here?”
Sara answers instead, “Jo’s just up here visiting
for a few weeks. Our parents thought it'd be a good idea if we
spent some time together.”
“I can answer for myself,” Josephine says looking
down at her hands. She's silent for a moment while she thinks. “The
truth is, my dad's in a little bit of a money struggle.” Almost in
a whisper she says, “We might lose the boat and the house.
Dad and Mom thought it might be easier to work through the problem
if I were here visiting Sara.”
“Oh.” I'm not sure what to say to that.
Sara leans over and gives Josephine a hug. “It'll be
okay. Your dad'll figure something out. He always does.”
“So what happened?” I ask. “How come your dad's
having problems? Is no one fishing anymore?”
“It's not really any of your business,” Josephine
snaps. “But I'll tell you anyway. When those greedy dogs of OAPEC
raised the price of gasoline, the price at the pump sky-rocketed to
$0.88 a gallon. And at the marina where my dad fills up the boat,
it's almost $1.45! Can you believe that? $1.45 just for a gallon of
gas. Our boat usually takes on about 250 gallons of fuel, so he had
to raise his prices for a day of fishing charters just to make a
little money. It's not going well.”
Josephine stands up in the heeling boat as we rock
through the waves. I notice that even as the boat bounces off each
wave, she doesn't seem to have any problem standing. Most people
who don't normally go out in boats would have been thrown to the
deck by now. She looks out at the water, and then climbs down the
ladder into the cabin.
Sara moves over near me with our shoulders touching.
“She's having a tough time with her dad about to lose the boat, so
go easy on her.”
“Go easy?” I steer around another lobster pot. “I
don't know if you've noticed, but she's giving me a hard
time.”
Sara wraps her arms around me while I'm trying to
steer the boat, and gives me a little squeeze followed with a kiss
on my cheek. “Just go easy on her, okay?”
Later, we're about halfway to Damariscove Island.
The wind is still steady, but the air is starting to feel more damp
than usual. I know from experience there's a good chance fog will
settle in.
Sara calls down into the cabin, “What are you doing
down there, Jo?”
“Just looking through this logbook of yours.”
Josephine pokes her head up through the opening. “I think I found
something. In these pages—” she holds open the logbook and turns
back to a page
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