Bone Deep by Gina McMurchy-Barber Page B

wanted me to be I’d have enough clothes, cosmetics, and hair product to sink a ship.”
    â€œMaybe you’re wrong about your great aunt. Maybe she doesn’t want you to be like that at all. Didn’t you say she was the one who encouraged you to go back and finish the diver’s training?”
    â€œMore like she hounded me,” I mumbled with a mouth full of muffin. “She’s doesn’t believe in quitting, that’s for sure.”
    â€œThat sounds like a good aspiration,” Eddy added. I wanted to change the subject, so I pulled out Captain Whittaker’s diary.
    â€œHow’s that going?” Eddy asked.
    â€œThis? Great. It’s been kind of weird reading his thoughts about things as they were happening two hundred years ago. I get the feeling he was a good guy, but pretty formal. I bet he was someone that Aunt Beatrix would approve of. Do you want me to read a little to you?” I asked.
    â€œThat would be great. Go for it.” As we sped along Highway 99 I opened the journal and began to slowly read the captain’s scratchy writing. As the words left the page and filled the air I got goose bumps as it dawned on me that I was going into the watery grave of the man who wrote them.
    January 9th, 1812
    Yesterday we arrived at Hawai’i. It is the largest of the Sandwich Islands. The locals call it the Big Island. This marks my fifth — and likely final — voyage to the place. Each time upon arrival I feel melancholy for it reminds me of my dear friend and mentor, Captain James Cook. He named these the Sandwich Islands after my uncle, the Earl of Sandwich, some thirty-five years ago. I was just a boy of sixteen when I joined him on that first voyage to these islands. They were good days as I recall. Many years later Captain Cook returned here. At that time there was a dispute between him and the native Hawai’ians that brought a violent end to his great life. It still haunts me to this day. Nevertheless, as the captain said himself, “these are kind and welcoming people.” I am grateful to be on good terms with King Kamehameha. He is a fearsome man and I have urged Mister Lockhart to take great care when negotiating with him.
    Speaking of Mister Lockhart, it was most amusing to observe his great displeasure at the time of our arrival at Big Island. Once we dropped anchor in the bay some twenty of the handsomest youths swam out to greet us. Their persons were entirely naked. Then came their old men and women in canoes bearing heaps of fresh fruit and dried fish. I have been witness to such greetings in the past and in good form the crew responded to this welcome by handing out some trinkets such as glass beads, a few brass buttons, and some iron nails crafted by our blacksmith, Mister Hughes. Nothing too much, just tokens really.
    Nevertheless, when Mister Lockhart saw this expression of generosity he called for an immediate cessation. In his own words, he said, “How in the name of God am I to drive negotiations with these savages if you give away the very items I intend to barter?” Since the agreement with Mister Astor was that I captain the ship and let Mister Lockhart head up the trading, I urged the crew to obey. Needless to say, I did inform Mister Lockhart later that such small gift giving is expected by most natives we have encountered. It is a small gesture that can set the mood for peaceful and friendly trading.
    The young gentleman has much to learn. I only hope he heeds my warning when we meet with King Kamehameha tomorrow. The man is a pagan with dozens of wives and heaven knows how many children. Nonetheless, he commands great respect and must always think he has the upper hand in negotiations.
    The men have been in very high spirits since our arrival and are urging that we remain until the worst of the winter winds blow themselves out. Daily life aboard the ship offers too few hours of carefree distraction from swabbing,