Howling Bay

    The north side of the island was a touch quieter, the inns surrounded by trees and paths through gardens so thick they insulated the area, keeping the din to a barely heard hum. The hotels were booked a year to two in advance, the island a popular destination for weddings. Every year someone offered great sums of money to have their wedding on Frith, and the islanders always refused, deferring them to the Sentinel or Bellhaven. One of the reasons being, there were no hotels of any kind on Frith, and there were no plans to build any. Five times a day the ferry sailed from the Sentinel to Frith, and the island was closed to the public at seven, the last ferry departing for the Sentinel at that time. Rumors cropped up over the years about what went on there after dark, but any who tried to miss the last ferry and hide, were always caught and then barred from coming back.
     At present the two ferries in the dock were the ones that went back and forth to Bellhaven, so Darby looked at the schedule. “Next ferry in half an hour.”
     Larken got in a line six deep and said, “I’ll text Lilly and let them know where we are.”
     “Somehow I think they know exactly where we are,” Darby said.
     Larken smiled and said, “Why do you think no one else could see the sun and moon in the mosaic?”
     Darby shrugged and said, “Perception? How many times did we go to the Art Institute and walk by Picasso’s Old Guitarist before noticing the woman? Even after we did, there were others around us who couldn’t see her. Some could, some couldn’t. Perception.”
     Larken opened her mouth to reply and a voice cut through the calm hushing her, and everyone else in line. “But the website said a certain amount of day passes are set aside for walkups.”
     A man in high end clothes meant to look like they’d blend locally, stood at the front of line, looking put out. Irish accents were tailored into his sweater, pants and scarf, while his wife, had a tartan across her skirt and blouse, and even on the buckle across her knee high brown leather boots. They look stylish, and completely out of place.
     “I’m sorry sir,” the young woman at the ticket counter replied. “The allotment of day passes sell out early. I recommend getting here at nine when the counter opens. We have three hour passes still available. Two?”
     “But that means we don’t have time to see the moon pools,” he replied. “And that’s the whole reason we came. There has to be something we can do.”
     “I understand your frustration sir,” she replied.
     Darby was impressed, she actually did look disappointed for them.
     “But once the passes are gone, they’re gone. Only a certain amount are allotted each day, and-”
     “Why is that exactly?” the man demanded. “You would think the people running this operation would want the money others are eager to spend! I want to speak to whoever’s in charge.”
     “Jesus,” Larken said under breath. “The entitlement.”
     “You are,” the woman said, brightly. “Siobhan Ramsey, it’s wonderful to meet you both. Let me ask you something sir, that is, if you’d be so kind.”
     The man gave her a grudging nod, while his wife started tapping her boot, making sure everyone knew she was annoyed.
     “Do you own your property?” Siobhan asked.
     “Yes,” the man replied. “But I don’t see-”
     “Every step you take on the Island of Frith is on private property,” Siobhan said. “We have invited you to our homes, to share in the beauty and peace of our island, and we hope you have a wonderful visit. But we set limits on how many people are on our property at any one time during the day, and evenings are for family. I’m sure you can understand.”
     “Absolutely,” Larken said.
     The man looked at her the retort dying on his lips. Others were shifting and shooting Larken barely concealed smiles, while Siobhan gave her a big bright grin.
     “Where do think our luggage is?” Darby said, trying not laugh.
     “I’m sure Siobhan will be able to tell us when get to the window,” Larken said. “If we ever get to the window.”
     A few people chuckled and the couple shot her haughty glances, but they purchased their tickets, and moved to the waiting area.
     “Darby and Larken Blake?”
     They turned around and Larken’s cheeks flushed the softest shade of pink. Darby cleared her throat to cover her laughter. The man looked to be in his mid-twenties, and was at least 6’1 maybe 6’2. He had dark green eyes and thick black hair, which ended in loose curls at the nape of neck. On one side of his mouth was a tiny dimple, giving his warm smile a slightly lopsided look. A long-sleeved burgundy t-shirt hung on a well-muscled frame, and he held himself with a natural confidence most spent years trying to cultivate.
     “Simone,” Darby said. “Darby and Larken Simone.”
     “My apologies,” he said. “It’s instinctual to refer to islanders with their family surname. I like Simone, it reminds me of the singer Nina Simone. She had a powerful voice.”
     Larken smiled excitedly and said, “That’s why my Grandmother chose it. Because of Nina Simone. I found it scrawled in an old notebook with song lyrics and written in the margins was Alice Simone, it’s a new life for me.”
     He held his hand out. “Thomas Ramsey. It’s a pleasure Miss Simone.”
     “Larken,” she tittered, as he engulfed her hand with his own.
     Darby just stared at her daughter. Her reaction to Thomas was completely out of character. Larken glanced at her and, dropping Thomas’s hand, picked up her dignity.
     “Mrs. Simone?” Thomas said, shaking her hand.
     “No,” Darby said smiling. “Miss Simone, but Darby is just fine Thomas. It’s nice to meet you.”
     He smiled sheepishly and said, “Your bags are on the boat. Can I take anything for you?” They both shook their heads and he said, “Follow me.”
     “Are you alright,” Darby said, out of the side of her mouth. “Do you need to sit down and catch your breath?”
     “Shut up,” Larken replied. “It was a long flight.”
     Darby stifled a laugh and nudged her shoulder. Larken smiled and gestured at Thomas. Look at him, she mouthed.
     “Oy. Is there another ferry?” the overdressed man called as they passed.
     “The ferry will be arriving in twenty-two minutes sir,” Thomas replied. 
     “What about them?” his wife asked, looking at Darby and Larken.
     “Islanders rarely take the ferry miss,” Thomas said.
     “They’re not islanders,” the man said. “They’re Americans.”
     Thomas looked at them and Darby nodded solemnly. “It’s true. We are.”
     He turned towards the water hiding a smile, and then looked back at the couple. “Family, born here or abroad, are islanders. I hope you enjoy your time on the island with us today.”
     Thomas didn’t give the couple a chance to reply. He walked purposefully towards the dock, and Darby and Larken had to quicken their step to catch up. They rounded the corner, losing sight of the waiting area, and headed past a few smaller boats, one being a water ambulance, and another a dive boat strictly for researchers. Diving the waters around the Sentinel and Frith was forbidden to the public. It was too dangerous. But the occasional anthropologist was taken to wrecks deemed safe enough for professional divers.
     Thomas jumped onto an idling boat with Unconquered Sun along the side, and then turned and held his hand out to help them down the two steps. Larken smiled and put her hand in his, eliciting a smile in return. Darby bypassed them both, happy to see their luggage secured in one corner of the very solid looking glass bottom boat. She'd been on a glass bottom boat in Florida once, but it was nothing like the Unconquered Sun. A railing surrounded six thick glass panels with space for thirty-two to sit, feet dangling as they looked at the ocean floor beneath. The weather wouldn't allow for an open boat, especially in cold temperatures, and the windows surrounding the boat were tinted so there was no glare to take away from the experience. A bench ran underneath, in case people wanted to look out instead of down.

   Darby and Larken sat on the tour guide's padded bench next to Thomas, who was standing at the controls responding to a text.  "Letting them know we're leaving the Sentinel," he said, pocketing his phone.
     He signaled, and a dock hand released the boat. They coasted out of the cove and started for Frith. Darby and Larken kept quiet as Thomas navigated them through shallows that made Darby's heart jump into her throat. After a couple minutes she refused to look at the glass bottom. From rocks that looked like they were about to slice through the glass to plunging pools of whirling darkness, it was nerve racking.
     Larken's eyes were glued to the glass, filled with an almost morbid fascination. "How do you know where to go?" she said softly. "It honestly looks like we're missing rocks by sheer luck. I know it isn't luck...but...Jesus."
     Darby looked and quickly shifted her gaze back out the window, which wasn't much better. The monolithic rocks were rising out of the water on all sides, the tides swirling and churning around them, trying to pull the boat towards certain death.
     “There are five, sometimes six, routes to and from the island," Thomas said. "And in one day you may end up using them all. The currents fly through these waters at lightening speeds, and have since the quake, keeping the area a constantly shifting death trap. Each generation is taught the secrets of navigating around our island. For those of us who run the boats it’s a vocation.”
     Larken tilted her head slightly to the side, and said, “A vocation?”
     Do you know how many people have managed to reach the island on their own, and set foot on shore since the quake?” When Larken shook her head, and he said, “Three, possibly four. There’s a debate about the fourth I won’t bore you with. But it tells you why it’s a vocation. I am responsible for the life of every person that boards my boat, and the slightest miscalculation could end in tragedy.”
     “Ah, a God complex,” Larken said, leaning back and resting her feet on the railing.  
     Thomas was taken aback and, from the look in his eyes, scrambling to find a response.
     “So let’s not fluster God while he navigates us through the death trap,” Darby said.
     Larken looked away hiding a smile, and said, “As if I could fluster a god.”
     Thomas’s gave shifted between them the uncertainty clear, then all of a sudden he grinned. “Am I the god in this scenario?”
     Darby laughed, while Larken tried to keep a straight face but failed. Thomas focused on piloting, but his gaze kept darting to Larken, the smile in his eyes obvious.
     “So Thomas,” Darby said. “What’s the best place to get a quick bite to eat before meeting the family?”
     “Mona Bell’s,” he replied. “The best comfort food you’ll ever have. My favorite is the mac and cheese,” he said. “Ham, five cheeses, spices, and baked to perfection. Trust me, one bite and you’ll love food in a way you never have before. Would you like me to call ahead so your lunch is waiting when you arrive?”
     That’s very kind of you,” Darby said. “I’ll definitely try the mac and cheese.”
     “Will you join us?” Larken asked.
     “I’d love to,” Thomas said, with a smile. “But I’m on boat duty today. When are you going to the moon pools?”
     “Tomorrow afternoon,” Larken replied.
     “Climbing up the steps or walking down?”
     “Climbing,” Larken said.
     Thomas pulled his phone out of his pocket and said, “I’ll save spots for you on my boat.”
     Larken smiled and Thomas called the café. When Larken glanced at her, Darby fought the urge to roll her eyes, and turned her attention to the water. Larken wasn’t a flirt, but her natural affability and genuine excitement gave others the impression she was interested in them romantically when it was the person as a whole she was interested in. But Thomas had her blushing, practically giggling, and inviting him to lunch, with her mother no less. It was an odd turn of events to an already strange trip.
     They cleared the largest of the rocks and Thomas was able to pick up more speed. Twenty-five miles long and ten miles across, the island looked as if the same hand that took a chunk out the coast, also did a number on Frith. But instead of a curled hand, it looked like fingers were dragged straight down, leaving furrows of sheer cliffs along the twenty-five mile stretch. Waves pummeled the cliffs with such ferocity, boats couldn't get close. Attempts had been made, but all failed, taking the boats and their passengers into the depths. Thomas navigated them through a maze of needle like rocks and the ocean appeared to open up. The glass bottom revealed that to be a dangerous illusion. Seeing the treacherous waters and what lay underneath up close added credence to the legend of the curse, not only laid on the witch finder, but to all those who would try to land on Frith. Only death would be their reward.
     They headed for the south side of the island which would take them into Pinter's Cove, what everyone referred to as Howling Bay. The waves rolled in and Thomas rode over them, making Larken laugh. Darby wished she could share the joy but her stomach wouldn't allow it. The winds beat against the boat and the darkness under the glass was suddenly impenetrable, the shallows giving way to deep water with an active ocean floor, creating cross currents that shifted the landscape.  The Unconquered Sun breached a tall wave and they were suddenly outside the entrance to the cove.
     Two other glass bottom boats moved steadily over the waves, both filled to capacity. The wolves guarded their charge behind them, their heads thrown back as they howled a warning to all who'd try to breach their defenses. From dead center, the cliffs to either of the entrance looked like the two howling wolves, move to the right or left and they were cliffs, move back to center and the wolves snapped into focus. The rocks had been weathered over time, creating holes and depressions that transformed the rushing winds into long howls filled with a foreboding that made the hairs on Darby's arm stand up. 
     “You can see the ships,” Thomas said. “The current shifts and the water calms. It happens twice a day and doesn’t last long. It’s the reason I picked you up in the Unconquered Sun.”
     Darby and Larken sat down around the railing and kept their eyes glued to the glass bottom. Thomas slowed the boat to a crawl and the wake diminished until the water was barely lapping at the sides. The rolling waves were suddenly gone and it was like a curtain was pulled back. Crystal clear on the ocean floor was a trove of ships.
     “The cavalcade of ships,” Thomas said.
     “It’s a museum,” Darby said.
     “A graveyard,” Larken said, quietly. “How many people died in those ships?”
     “They were attacking the island,” Thomas said. “Luck deserts all who do.”
     “I thought some people were just trying make contact,” Darby said.
     “So they could conquer,” Thomas said.
     “How did they all sink?” Larken asked.
     “Triton smacked them down,” Thomas said. “Hard.”
     Larken sat up and gave him a withering look. He laughed and steered the boat over two ships whose masts looked like they were less than an inch from the glass.
     “Not a fan of wrestling?” Thomas asked. Larken’s eyes clouded over with confusion, and he said, “The smack down. Well you’ve been forewarned, there is a rabid group of wrestling fans on the island. They pull out names like Rowdy Roddy Piper and Andre the Giant, like Americans talk about past baseball players.”
     “So what happened to the ships?” Darby pressed.
     “Most were tossed onto the rocks by waves,” he replied. “Whirlpools will suddenly appear, and some become dangerous incredibly fast. A few ships went down like that. Then there were the ones who out and out attacked. Our ancestors defended their home. Never again was the fate of our people going to be decided by others. During World War II both the Nazis and the English wanted to build an outpost on the island. They were unsuccessful in their attempts to land. The English compromised. We promised to defend King and country if it ever came to that and we did. There are other ships in the waters around the island, but these are the most well-preserved. The others take a serious beating from the ocean daily, and a few are no more than boards and anchors at this point.”
     “Aren’t you English?” Larken asked.
     Thomas laughed. “Islanders are islanders,” he and Larken said together.
     He looked surprised, and she said, “I’ve picked up a thing or two.”
     He smiled and took them around the entire cavalcade.  As they studied what looked like an old Spanish galleon, Thomas suddenly veered further away from the other boats. The curtain was pulled shut and a wave picked them up. The people in the other boats let out surprised yells and laughter, while Darby and Larken held on, watching a grinning Thomas. He navigated skillfully into the bay as wave after wave tried to topple the boat, and the howl's reached an almost ear piercing crescendo.
     Darby watched the breakers hit as they took a specific path through. The howling wind turned into a light breeze, and the water calmed considerably, which was good, Darby’s stomach couldn’t handle being thrown around by the ocean much longer.
     “Pinter’s Cove,” Thomas said.
     "It looks like a postcard," Larken said.
     "It is," Darby said. "I saw them on the Sentinel."