Port Starbird (Storm Ketchum Adventures)

by Garrett Dennis

  It was now Monday evening, and the weather here at least was finally starting to improve. They'd managed to watch a couple of movies early on, but since Friday night they'd kept their TV tuned to news and weather. A few small tornados had been reported across the state, but none where they were and none in Avon that they knew of.

  The Banks however had been hit with some hurricane-force winds, and there'd been isolated reports of power outages and structural damage in several locations. Most of the damage, though, appeared to have been done by rain and storm tides, especially in Pamlico Sound, where the winds had blown the sound water westward, causing creeks and rivers to flood; as the storm had passed, those waters had receded eastward and piled up against parts of the eastern shore of the sound, that is, the westward side of Hatteras Island. Eight-foot tides had been reported in some places, and some docks had been smashed, some boats sunk, and some homes flooded. The water had surged across the island at Rodanthe, as Ketch had feared, and Route 12 had been breached there.

  They'd been in periodic contact with the Captain throughout, and Kari had spoken with her family. Everyone seemed to be doing all right. The Captain, though, hadn't chosen the best refuge as it turned out, as there'd been similar though less damaging problems in Albemarle Sound; but though he and his family had had to contend with hurricane-force gusts of wind and some overfilling of the river, they'd come through it with only some minor damage. The Captain had said part of the dock had lifted and the Minnow had gotten slammed around some, but he thought she was still seaworthy. They were speaking with him now on Ketch's cell phone.

  "We're itchin' to get on down there and check things out," Kari was saying. "We know there was some damage, but we hadn't been able to get a lot of details."

  "Well, the road's washed out, you know, though I hear it ain't so bad they have to put up one a them temporary steel bridges again, like they did the last time. It might only take 'em a few days to make it passable this time."

  "I wonder if the looters will wait that long," Ketch said.

  "That's the spirit!" the Captain laughed. "That's the thing I like most about y'all, you're a positive thinker! First you worry 'bout gettin' mugged, and now looters. This ain't Jersey, folks around here help each other out."

  "Yes, well, we still have people like Mario, and I imagine we have vacationers from Jersey. Anyway, I'm thinking about seeing if I can find us somewhere to stay closer, and then taking my boat to the public launch at Pea Island. If I keep her speed down some, I know I could almost make it to Avon and back on one tank, but I'll bring a couple more gas cans with me. We could at least check on the house and the shop that way, though we won't be able to get to your place or Kari's."

  "That's all right, I ain't real worried, it is what it is. But you better keep your speed down, some a the shoals have probably shifted, though you should be okay with your draft. I'd offer to take you myself, but I got some repairs to do, and when I go down I'm gonna have to crawl all the way there."

  "We could come to you and drop one of us off to sail with you when you're ready, so you don't have to do it all by yourself," Kari offered.

  "Well that's right nice a y'all, darlin'. See what I mean, Ketch, you ole sad sack? Don't worry 'bout it right now, though, I ain't comin' back 'til they fix the road at least. Hey, if you can't find a place to stay, y'all could come here, we could put you up for a spell. We still got another guest bedroom here we ain't usin'."

  "Thanks, Captain, we'll keep that in mind," Ketch said. They hung up shortly, and Ketch fired up his laptop. There were no Residence Inns around Nags Head and not many other pet-friendly hotels to choose from, and the ones he found looked to be on the unsavory side and didn't have good reviews. They might have been damaged by the storm anyway, so he didn't bother to call any of them. There may have been some options around Elizabeth City, but if they went there then they might as well stay with the Captain. They decided to take him up on his offer and called him back.

  They reloaded the car and the truck, checked out Tuesday morning, and arrived at the Captain's place in the afternoon. The Captain's family went out of their way to make them feel welcome, which they were grateful for and Ketch was humbled by. Southern hospitality wasn't just a fable, at least not among the old guard. With very few exceptions, if any (he couldn't think of any at the moment), the ones he'd met on and around the Banks all seemed to be standup folks who'd have your back if you needed them to.

  There was some property, which pleased the dog, around the surprisingly spacious house which sat on a knoll above the river, and the fact that it was riverfront pleased the dog even more. He was pretty adaptable for a dog, Ketch had to admiringly acknowledge, and he seemed comfortable here.

  Which was good, since he'd decided against subjecting the dog to another long drive and probably equally long ride on a small boat. Counting the drive from here to Pea Island and back, and sailing the boat from Pea Island to Avon and back, it could be at least a ten-hour trip overall.

  After getting settled into their room, they passed some time socializing with their generous hosts. When dinner was over, Ketch and the Captain went to town to stock the cooler for the trip.

  "So, who-all's gonna be goin' on this little junket?" the Captain asked. "I need to know, so I can make sure we get the right kind a beer."

  "Well, I thought me and Kari," Ketch said. "But then I wondered if leaving Jack here might be imposing too much."

  "Nah, it'll be okay. You two are the ones that should go. I might could tag along, but I got work to do, and you'd burn more gas with the extra weight. Jack knows me. He can hang out with me, I'll keep a good eye on 'im."

  After a comfortable (and respectfully quiet) night, Ketch and Kari met the Captain out on the back porch shortly after sunrise. They shared a quick breakfast with him, then loaded their cooler onto the boat. Before he got in the truck, Ketch had a word with the dog, who was looking nervous and concerned. He explained the situation as best he could, using words he knew the dog would understand, and hugged the dog, though not excessively. You can't make too big a deal out of arrivals and departures if you don't want to have a neurotic pet. When he started the truck, he saw that the dog was calmer, if resigned, and sitting next to the Captain. He called to the dog, "Jack, be good, I'll see you later!"

  "Bon voyage!" the Captain said. "If y'all come across any a them dang looters, give 'em a kick in the pants for me!"

  The drive to Pea Island was uneventful, though tedious, as they had to first stop for ice and gas - for the truck, the boat, and the extra gas cans - and then skirt the perimeter of Albemarle Sound on a maddeningly tortuous route before finally making it onto the Banks via the bridge above Kitty Hawk. Of course, it didn't help that they were both anxious to get the boat in the water. But at least there were no breaches in the road and no significant delays, and once they got off 158 and onto 12 below Nags Head they felt like they were on the home stretch - which they were.

  When they shortly crossed the Bonner Bridge over Oregon Inlet, still intact and passable, under a finally blue sky, Ketch was again struck by the beauty of this confluence of the Atlantic Ocean and Pamlico Sound - the multifarious blue-green hues of the inlet, the sound, and the sea; and the waving cordgrass in the marshes... The postcard views from the elevated bridge made his breath catch in his throat every time he drove across this bridge, without fail. He had to slow down and force himself to pay attention to the road; it was a wonder he'd never accidentally driven right off it.

  Once they crossed the bridge, it wasn't much longer before they reached the Pea Island refuge. They found the public boat launch functional and open, but busy, and they had to wait their turn. When they finally had the boat in the water and were underway, they both felt a sense of great relief. Kari cracked open the cooler and extracted two pint bottles of beer from it, which she or the Captain must have stuck in there, as Ketch had not.

  "I know you have to watch out for the shoals," she said at a skeptical look from Ketch, "but o
ne won't hurt."

  He didn't argue, and in fact had to admit it was going down quite well. He wasn't sure why, but although he felt trepidatious about what they might find later, he also felt good, and happy. He was glad he'd remembered to pack his tarp hat and bring it along today; though he still had hair, it wasn't quite as thick as it used to be, and on this finally sunny day he could burn without it. Maybe it was just being out on the water again making him feel so good, or maybe it was who he was sailing with; maybe both. No longer having to worry about his house being seized might be another reason.

  He'd been gradually accelerating since they started and was now going faster than he ordinarily might have under these circumstances, but he didn't want to waste time; and though not strictly necessary, it would also be nice to make it back to the Captain's place tonight before full dark. He'd have to get very unlucky to have a problem with shoals with his nine-inch draft - but if he did, things wouldn't end well for the boat at this speed; and there might also be some storm debris here and there, so he'd still keep a careful eye out ahead. No more beer for him until maybe on the way back later.

  "Hey, do you think we might have time to dock and go inside for a few minutes when we get there? You know, to check and see if the bedroom's still okay?" she called over the engine with a mischievous look on her face.

  "There might not be a dock anymore," he called back.

  "Well, we could still pull the boat up onto the shore though, right?"

  "I don't know." They were approaching the outskirts of Rodanthe now, and he could see there'd been some soundside flooding there. There was debris considerably above the normal high tide line, and some of the elevated houses looked like they still had water under them. They both saw where the road had been breached at the same time.

  "Wow, look at that," she said. "It's not as bad as it could be, though. If we only got it this bad, we'll be doin' okay." Ketch didn't reply, and just kept watching the water ahead with only an occasional glance to the side. Waves and Salvo looked about the same as what they'd seen in Rodanthe, minus the road breach.

  "We'll find out soon," he finally said. Next stop Avon. She was right, what they'd seen so far wasn't that bad, considering. And Port Starbird had enough freeboard to park a car under the deck, which was more than twice as much as was mandated for his area; so although his dock might have washed out and there might have been water under the house, at least there shouldn't be any inside it. He hoped. If all he had to do was get a new lawn mower and a new bike and rebuild his dock, that wouldn't be so bad. Though maybe there'd also be some roofing to be done, depending on how the winds had been. Well, he had flood insurance.

  They didn't talk after that, both of them lost in probably similar thoughts. When he could see that they were approaching the north end of town, he slowed down and steered the boat closer to shore, as close as he dared to get without risking running aground. There appeared to be a lot of debris along the shore here as well, more so than in the other towns.

  "I don't know if we should chance the canals to check on the shop," Ketch said. "I'm afraid there might be too much junk in the water. We could get marooned if we foul the prop."

  "That's okay. We can drive down as soon as the road opens, I can wait 'til then," she said. "Can't do much about it now anyway, and if we can't get there, maybe your pirates or looters or whatever can't either. Let's check out the boatyard, though, it's on the way."

  They proceeded slowly and cautiously to the entrance to the boatyard. Ketch throttled back when they got close enough to see, not wanting to advance much further.

  "Oh wow," Kari said. There'd been flooding here as well, and many of the docks were buckled and splintered. The boats that had remained here were in a state of disarray; some had apparently collided with one another, and two of the houseboats were partly beached sideways on the shore. Ketch backed out in silence and steered them around the bend.

  Again, more flooding; here most of the houses were missing roof tiles, and there was water in every back yard and under some of the houses. The debris line, and water marks on the pilings, indicated the water had risen even farther and then receded. The pilings of one house looked to have given way, and the formerly elevated house now rested directly on the soggy ground; it was one of the old ones, so maybe the wood had been rotting and weakened. And then there was the house in the water.

  In the water? Ketch steered closer and throttled back again. He rubbed his eyes to make sure they were clear and scanned the neighboring properties to be certain he had his landmarks straight and wasn't making a mistake. There was no mistake - that was his house, that was Port Starbird. Or what was left of it anyway.

  "Oh, Ketch," Kari softly moaned. "Oh God, what happened?"

  The house appeared to have settled approximately where the dock had been. Whether the dock had washed out first or been crushed by the house was impossible to tell. The house had apparently been knocked off its pilings, by hurricane winds or the receding water from the opposite shore of the sound slamming into it, or both, and either floated or slid down the back yard. Maybe a tornado had touched down here? He doubted it could have floated much or for very long, as only half of the foam blocks he'd ordered had been installed; they might have instead been smashed on impact. But the blocks were probably what had allowed the house to migrate as far as it had, one way or another, both the ones that had been installed and the others stacked behind the house.

  But why? He'd had the house inspected before he'd bought it, and one more time since, and he'd been assured that the pilings and superstructure were in good shape. Len and Mario had installed most of the blocks on the same half of the house - maybe the extra weight was too much, maybe it was the imbalance that had tipped the scales.

  "So, do you still want to go inside and see if the bedroom's okay?" Ketch rhetorically asked with a mirthless laugh. The house wasn't level, and the impact must have loosened joints; the entire structure was out of square and leaning like some old barns he'd seen that looked like they were about to fall over. And because of that and probably also the wind, the roof had started to collapse. All of the windows looked to have been shattered.

  Just a few years ago, an event like this would have completely derailed him for sure, no doubt about it. He might have had to check himself into a mental hospital. But though he was of course still devastated nonetheless, things were different now. He was different now, finally. Kari watched him in silence, trying to read his face.

  "Looks totaled to me," he said. "Can't just bang out the dents on this baby, frame's bent." He cut the engine and dropped the anchor. One of his favorite John Prine songs inexplicably popped into his head, and he drummed on a gunwale with his hands and sang a twist on a bit of it. "Looks like... someone knocked you into the sea... same thing... same thing happened to me!" He got himself another beer from the cooler, opened it, and gulped some down.

  "Hey, are you okay?" Kari asked with a worried frown on her face.

  "I'm just fine! Here, I'll tell you why," he said, and broke into song again:

  "Any day you're not six feet under is a good day,

  Any day that big old world's still spinning around,

  Let the small stuff go and the good stuff will make things okay,

  Don't let that goofy old world start bringing you down."

  "I don't recognize that one, is it one of your own?" she nervously asked.

  He stopped singing and looked at her. "I'm scaring you, aren't I?" he said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I'm okay, really." He took another sip of his beer. "That is indeed one of mine. It's called Have a Good Day."

  "Huh, so you do have more than just that one you played at the house that time." Ketch saw that she was looking a little more relaxed now. "You'll have to play all your songs for me sometime. When you're not writin' your book."

  "When I'm not working with you and helping you grow your business," he corrected her. "I'm still serious about that offer I made you. I'm afraid, though, I migh
t have to rescind the invitation to live at my house. How would you feel about a houseboat?"

  "A houseboat? Where? The boatyard's wrecked."

  "Well, I still have my lot. We could just park it out back. No, wait, there's something in the way there."

  "Anywhere is fine by me. I'll go wherever we need to go," she said with a smile. "Which for a while might mean my apartment, if it's still standin'. Do you think you'll rebuild?"

  "I don't know, we'll see. We'll figure it all out eventually."

  She moved closer to him and enveloped him in a hug. "Are you sure you're okay?"

  "Yes, I think so. Though I do feel kind of like Santiago."

  "Santiago who?"

  "You know, the old fisherman, in The Old Man and the Sea. All that struggle, all that effort, the ordeal he went through trying to land that giant marlin, and by the time the sharks were done all he had left was a pile of bones."

  "And the boy."

  "Right, and the boy. And I have you." He gave her one more squeeze and went back to the cooler. He got out another beer for her and the food they'd brought, and started laying it all out on one of the seats.

  "Damn that Hemingway," he chuckled. "But I'm better off than Santiago in one way - I don't have to eat raw fish to survive. That's something."

  He mock-bowed and beckoned her to join him. "Milady, luncheon is served!"

  # # #

  About the Author

  Garrett worked as a biologist and computer scientist before trying his hand at writing fiction. He lives in upstate New York USA, where he and his wife serve as the housekeeping staff for two rather spoiled dogs. This is his first published novel.

  He also plays guitar and writes songs from time to time. If you'd like to hear the "Port Starbird" song, and maybe some others, visit his web site at: