by Sonya Bates
Smuggler’s
Cave
Sonya
Spreen Bates
Illustrated by Kasia Charko
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
Text copyright © 2010 Sonya Spreen Bates
Illustrations copyright © 2010 Kasia Charko
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in
any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be
invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Bates, Sonya Spreen
Smuggler’s cave / written by Sonya Spreen Bates ; illustrated by Kasia Charko.
(Orca echoes)
Issued also in an electronic format.
ISBN 978-1-55469-308-5
I. Charko, Kasia, 1949- II. Title. III. Series: Orca echoes.
PS8603.A846S68 2010 jC813’.6 C2010-903525-9
First published in the United States, 2010
Library of Congress Control Number: 2010928736
Summary: Jake and Tommy find themselves back on Marsh Island,
but this time they’re trapped in a sea cave with their cousin Lexie.
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs
provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book
Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia
through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Orca Book Publishers is dedicated to preserving the environment and has printed this book
on paper certified by the Forest Stewardship Council.
Typesetting by Teresa Bubela
Cover artwork and interior illustrations by Kasia Charko
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
PO BOX 5626 STN.B PO BOX 468
VICTORIA, BC CANADA CUSTER, WA USA
V8R 6S4 98240-0468
www.orcabook.com
Printed and bound in Canada.
13 12 11 10 • 4 3 2 1
For Dad, with love.
Contents
Chapter One: The Race
Chapter Two: Disaster
Chapter Three: Boy Overboard
Chapter Four: Smuggler’s Cave
Chapter Five: Trapped
Chapter Six: Escaping Marsh Island
Chapter One
THE RACE
Jake hopped off his bike. He dropped it on the grass at the top of the cliff and started down the steps to the beach. His feet pounded on the wooden planks. The wind was cold on his cheeks. He could smell the salty seaweed scent of the ocean.
I am a triathlete, he thought. Fast, strong and powerful. I finished the bicycle race and am in the lead. No one will catch me.
He heard the thud of footsteps behind him. Glancing back, he saw Lexie, his cousin, starting down the stairs.
A competitor! Jake thought. I cannot let her pass. He picked up the pace.
The beach was a long way down. One hundred and thirty steps. He had counted them the day before when he arrived at the beach house with Mom and Dad and his brother Tommy. Aunt Bonnie and Uncle Max rented the house every Thanksgiving. This was the first time Jake and his family had been there.
Jake knew Lexie was fast. He’d raced her before, lots of times. He wasn’t going to let her win.
Gripping the handrail, Jake swung past the bend in the stairs. He was halfway down. His legs hurt like crazy, and he was huffing and puffing like a steam train.
“JAKE!” The scream came from the top of the stairs. “Jake, wait for me!”
It was Tommy, Jake’s younger brother, coming last as usual. Jake glanced back up the stairs, and that’s when it happened. He missed a step.
He felt himself falling and grabbed for the rail. Lexie raced past him.
“Yes!” she cried.
Jake tore after her.
It’s a race for gold, he thought. I must go faster. The stairs were a blur. Faster and faster he went, down, down, down toward the beach. He jumped the last few steps, landing in the sand only a second behind Lexie.
“I win! I win!” she shouted, jumping around and pumping her fists in the air. Her curly brown ponytail bounced wildly. “I win and you lose!” Lexie was small for her age. Even though she was ten and Jake was still nine, she was shorter than him by four or five centimeters. She was almost as small as Tommy.
Jake unzipped his hoodie and bent over, trying to catch his breath. “You only won because I tripped. I had you beat, easy.”
“No way,” said Lexie, shaking her head. “I beat you fair and square. I’m the winner. Again.” She danced a little jig.
Jake didn’t say anything. Lexie would be gloating all day. She always did. Last Christmas they’d had a toboggan race down the hill behind Jake’s house. Lexie won by half a sled. She bragged about it all afternoon and made herself a trophy in the snow.
“Jake!” Tommy’s voice came from halfway down the stairs. “Wait up! Mom said we have to stick together!”
Jake glared at his brother. If it wasn’t for Tommy, he would have won the race. Tommy was always spoiling things.
“Hurry up then, slowpoke,” he called, “or I’ll tell Mom you didn’t stick with us like you were supposed to.”
“But Jake—,” said Tommy.
“Ah, leave him alone,” said Lexie. When Tommy reached the bottom of the stairs, she pulled a long blue ribbon out of her pocket and threaded it through a shell. “Here, Tommy, you can present the gold medal.”
Lexie’s pockets were always filled with stuff: bits of string, a pocketknife, rubber bands, paper clips, stubby pencils or chalk. One time, when they needed to get a key out of a drain, she had found a magnet in her back pocket.
Tommy placed the ribbon around her neck. Lexie bowed to the seagulls strutting on the beach. “Thank you, thank you,” she said.
“You are so full of it,” said Jake, shaking his head.
“You’re just mad because you lost,” said Lexie.
“I am not,” said Jake. He pushed the hair off his face. Tommy’s hair was curly like Lexie’s, but Jake’s was straight and always seemed to get in his eyes.
“You are too,” said Lexie in a smug voice. “I won, and you can’t stand it.”
“I can beat you anytime I want,” said Jake. He picked up a stone and threw it into the waves.
“So prove it,” said Lexie.
Jake turned to look at her. She was wearing shorts and a sweatshirt, even though it was October and the wind was quite cold. Jake stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“How?” he asked.
“Another race,” she said, grinning. “A boat race.” She pointed toward four small rowboats lined up on the sand at the edge of the water.
Jake liked boats. He was a good rower. His dad taught him how to row when they went camping last summer. His dad had taught him lots of things—how to use a compass, how to start a campfire and how to roast marshmallows without burning them. “All right,” Jake said. “To the end of the beach and back?”
Lexie shook her head, making her ponytail bounce back and forth again. “Nah, too easy. To the island.”
Jake’s eyes swiveled round to the small island about five hundred meters offshore.
“You mean Marsh Island?” said Tommy in a hushed voice.
“Of course,” said Lexie. “Do you see any other islands around here?”
Jake and Tommy exchanged glances. Last summer, they had camped with their dad on Marsh Island. Strange things happened there.
“Sure,”
said Jake, eyeing the calm stretch of sea between the beach and the island. “I could make that, easy.”
“All the way round the other side?” said Lexie.
“There’s no beach on the other side of the island,” said Jake.
“We’re not going to the beach,” said Lexie. “We’re going to Smuggler’s Cave.”
Chapter Two
DISASTER
“Smuggler’s Cave?” said Tommy. “What’s that?”
“You haven’t heard of Smuggler’s Cave?” said Lexie.
Tommy shook his head.
Jake had. He remembered hearing about Smuggler’s Cave from Chris Mumford, the man from the Marsh Island Historical Society who took care of the island.
“It’s a cave on the other side of the island,” said Lexie. “Smugglers used to stash their loot there. That’s why it’s called Smuggler’s Cave.”
“What kind of loot?” asked Jake.
“All sorts. Tea, wine, silks, spices—even money and pirate treasure.” Her eyes gleamed. “It’s the perfect hiding spot. The only way in is by boat, and only at low tide.”
“Why only at low tide?” asked Tommy.
“Because,” said Lexie, “when the water rises, the cave fills until the entrance is underwater. No one can get in, and no one can get out.”
Jake stared at the island. He imagined what it would be like hiding in the cave, alone in the dark, surrounded by stolen treasure, waiting for a ship to come. He shivered.
“So,” said Lexie, “are we gonna race?”
“Don’t do it, Jake,” said Tommy, tugging at Jake’s sleeve. “That island is creepy.”
Jake had never rowed that far from the beach. And he had to admit, there was something weird about Marsh Island.
“You’re chicken,” said Lexie.
“I’m not chicken,” said Jake.
Lexie started flapping her arms and clucking like a hen.
Jake scowled at her. “Fine, let’s race then,” he said. “Come on, Tommy. We’ll take the red boat.”
Lexie let out a whoop of triumph. She raced for the boats.
“Me?” said Tommy. “Why do I have to come?”
“Because,” said Jake, “there’s no way I’m leaving you here on the beach by yourself. Mom would kill me.”
He shoved Tommy into the back of the boat, tossed him a life jacket and jammed another one over his own head.
Lexie tightened the strap on her life jacket and grinned. “First one to Smuggler’s Cave wins.”
Jake pushed the boat off the sand and hopped on board. Grabbing the oars, he struggled to get them into position. Lexie was already rowing toward the island.
“Hurry, Jake,” said Tommy. “She’s beating us.”
“I know,” said Jake. “Be quiet now so I can concentrate.”
Finally he got the oars into the water. He dipped them deep and pulled hard. The boat was heavy. It took a while to get going, but soon he was into a rhythm. Dip and pull, dip and pull.
“Faster, Jake, faster,” said Tommy.
It felt good being out on the water. The wind was cold. Now and then a spray of salt water splashed over him. The waves were bigger than he had thought. The sea wasn’t as calm as it had looked from shore. The boat rocked back and forth with each pull of the oars. Jake watched as the beach moved farther and farther away. It made him a bit uneasy. He glanced behind him. Lexie was only a couple of meters ahead. Marsh Island still seemed a long way away.
I am an Olympic rower, thought Jake. I glide through the water, strong and silent as a shark. My opponent is only meters ahead of me. With each stroke I come closer to winning a gold medal.
Dip and pull. Dip and pull. Jake’s arms started to ache.
“Come on, you’re gaining on her,” said Tommy, bouncing in his seat. The life jacket was huge on him. With his arms and head sticking out of the holes, he looked like a turtle bouncing around in its shell.
“Sit still!” said Jake. “You’re rocking the boat.”
Dip and pull. Dip and pull. Slowly they caught up to Lexie. The two boats were right alongside each other. Lexie grinned at Jake.
“Give up!” said Jake. “You’re done for!”
“No way!” Lexie called back. She pulled harder on her oars and moved ahead.
“Faster, Jake, she’s beating us!” said Tommy.
Jake leaned into the oars. His whole body hurt, and he was breathing like a racehorse. He made himself go faster. Back and forth. Dip and pull. He couldn’t let Lexie win. Not this time. Not when he was so close.
They were moving around the island now. Jake could see it off to his right. Lexie was on his left. As he glanced over at her, their oars clashed and the wooden handle almost slipped out of his hand. He gripped harder and kept rowing.
“I can see the cave. We’re almost there!” said Tommy.
Jake looked over his shoulder toward Marsh Island. Ahead of him was a sheer cliff. Huge boulders stuck out of the water below it. In the middle of the cliff was a dark opening—Smuggler’s Cave.
Jake felt a surge of energy. He was going to do it. He was going to beat Lexie. He pulled harder. Slowly their boat moved ahead.
The sea was rougher on this side of the island. Waves splashed over the side of the boat, making a puddle on the bottom. The tide was stronger too. It pushed them toward the island, toward the cliff. He struggled to keep the boat straight, pulling hard with his right oar.
Lexie was behind him. She steered her boat farther out to sea and shouted something to him. Jake couldn’t make out what she said.
The cliff was only meters away. Jake dragged the oars through the water.
“Watch out for the rocks, Jake,” said Tommy. “You’re getting too close.”
“I know,” said Jake. “I’m trying.”
The boat was pushed closer to the cliff with each surge of the sea. Jake glanced back and saw the entrance to the cave a short distance away. Each time a wave hit, water rushed into the hole, like storm water down a drain. Then it was sucked out again as the wave receded.
“Jake! Look out!” said Tommy, standing up and pointing.
Jake saw the cliff loom up in front of him. “Hold on!” he shouted.
The boat smashed into the rock. It hit with a CRACK and rocked sideways. Jake clung to the sides of the boat. Tommy threw his arms up, trying to get his balance. Then there was a SPLASH. Tommy had fallen overboard.
Chapter Three
BOY OVERBOARD
Jake saw Tommy plunge into the water and quickly bob up again. The life jacket kept him afloat, but waves splashed over his face. He flailed his arms around, coughing and spluttering.
“Help!” Tommy screamed. “Help!”
Jake leaned over the edge of the boat. He stretched an arm toward Tommy. “Grab my hand!” he called.
Tommy threw his arms around wildly. His fingers brushed Jake’s hand. But Jake couldn’t catch hold of them.
“Over here, Tommy!” said Jake. “Grab my hand.” He stretched farther over the edge of the boat. The boat rocked dangerously.
Tommy turned and saw Jake’s hand. He made a grab for it. Jake’s fingers closed over Tommy’s. He had him!
Another big wave hit the boat, and it smashed up against the rocks. Jake felt himself falling. Before he knew what was happening, he was in the water too.
Jake’s mouth filled with water. Everything was dark and murky. He didn’t know which way was up. He kicked his legs as the life jacket brought him to the surface. He came up gasping for air.
The boat was a couple of meters away. It had overturned and was floating upside down. Tommy was bobbing next to it.
Jake swam toward the boat. Grabbing on to it with one hand, he took hold of the back of Tommy’s life jacket with the other.
“Jake!” said Tommy. “I thought you had drowned.”
“Of course I didn’t drown,” said Jake. He tried to make his voice sound like he wasn’t scared. “Here, hang on to the boat.”
The sea toss
ed them up and down with the waves. Jake clung tightly to the keel of the boat. He didn’t know how long he could hang on. His legs felt like dead weights, and he couldn’t catch his breath. The water was cold. Really cold. He knew they should try to flip the boat over, but he was too tired.
The boat bumped and bobbed against the rocks. The surging waves threw it against the cliff and then drew it back again, taking Jake and Tommy with it. Jake looked up and saw the entrance to the cave only a couple of meters away. Suddenly he realized what was happening. The current was going to take them right into Smuggler’s Cave.
“Hold on, Tommy,” he cried.
The next wave sent them rushing through the low narrow opening. Tommy screamed as they were swept into the dark hole. Jake held on to him tightly. The boat pitched wildly as the swell dragged them back and then threw them forward, farther into the cave.
Light streamed into the cave’s mouth. The cave was big, long and narrow. Jake could see the roof of the cavern above them. The walls rose steeply out of the water, with rocks and ledges near the water’s edge. Jake heard the sound of water lapping on the cave walls and waves breaking against the rocks.
“Where are we?” whispered Tommy.
“We’re in Smuggler’s Cave,” said Jake.
Tommy looked around fearfully. “Are there smugglers in here?”
“No,” said Jake. “That was ages ago.”
A wave pushed them farther into the cave. The swell was smaller now that they were away from the entrance. The deeper they went, the darker it got. Jake started to panic. They would drift forever and get trapped in the dark. No one would ever find them—like being shipwrecked on a deserted island.
Jake knew they had to get out of the water. “Help me,” he said. “Kick your legs.”
Together they pushed the boat toward a low ledge. When it bumped up against the rock, they scrambled out of the water and flopped onto the ground. It smelled salty and fishy in the cave. Jake rolled over, and his hand splashed into water. Sitting up, he saw a tide pool filled with starfish.
Tommy pushed himself up. “Jake, the boat!” he said.
