Voyage of the Dreadnaught: Four Stella Madison Capers by Lilly Maytree Page A

That's
his other favorite. The rest of of us won't mind as long as we
barbecue, and fill things out with your New England baked beans,
and Lou's fruit salad. If he doesn't eat any of that, we'll know
something's definitely wrong. You think?”
    “I'm thinking what would we do if anything
happened to Captain Stuart. Maybe the rest of us should try to
carry more of the load for a while. Could be he's coming down with
something and just needs a rest.”
    “Could be. But I'm going to keep my eye on
him during our Alaska celebration. Then slip him a good physic if I
think he isn't quite right.”
    “Why, Millie—that's an awful thing to do to
somebody. You should ask, first.”
    “He wouldn't take it at all, if I asked.
Better just to slip it into his tea.”
     

2
     
    The celebration started somewhat early that
night, because the fog rolled in so thick they were forced to pull
over into the nearest cove and anchor. Such places were numerous
throughout the islands, and they were pure wilderness. Something
that had little effect—other than offering spectacular scenery from
every angle—to the small community of friends aboard the Dreadnaught .
    Even fuel stations, which were few and far
between the farther north they got, didn't really matter so much.
Captain Stuart said they had enough to make the entire trip just on
their original fill-up back in California. It was the one thing
they wouldn't scrimp on, and the main reason they opted to all sign
on for extra “shipboard duties,” rather than go to the added
expense of hiring a professional crew. They also had the option of
using the sails, which cut down considerably on fuel expenses all
by itself.
    Except there hadn't been much opportunity to
use those sails. Going north, the wind was almost always “right on
their nose,” as the Captain called it, instead of on either side or
behind them, where they could actually get some use out of it. Not
to mention a sailboat of this size took practically a full gale to
get it really moving (having been built more for ocean crossings).
Not that they hadn't had to wait out a lot of gale-force weather
pocketed away in some deserted place like this one. It's just that
the combination of narrow channels, crazy strong currents and
tides—as well as those gale-force winds—made for nightmare
situations with such a novice crew. No matter how good everyone's
intentions were.
    Yes... Captain Stuart most probably had a
lot on his mind.
    Stella was thinking about all these things
as she took her pot of New England baked beans out of the oven and
set it at the back of the stove to keep warm. The men were out
under a covered portion of the deck, overseeing the barbecue, and
Millie was busy setting the huge table. Which looked especially
lovely with the overhead kerosene lamp lit (dark clouds had moved
in and it was already starting to rain), and a little blue pot of
artificial white daisies the two of them had picked up in some
dollar store at their last stop in Canada. Now, with nearly all of
the long trip behind them, and their crossing back over into the
U.S., earlier this afternoon, it was time to celebrate. They were
finally in Alaska!
    Even Millie seemed to have forgotten her
dark worries of the morning, and cheerfully tucked one of those
white daisies, that had fallen out of its setting, into her
bountiful French twist as she hummed the same two lines of the old
fifties classic, Blueberry Hill , over and over, again.
    About then, Lou Edna, Cole, and the Senator
came in from the forward companionway.
    “Oh, my word!” Stella exclaimed as the
little toddler with the big name reached out his arms to her. “If
you aren't dressed like a regular little boy—rubber boots and
everything!” She took him from Cole, who seemed especially cleaned
up, himself, not missing the fact the two were both wearing jeans
and the same blue sweatshirts.
    “Cole says he won't know he's a boy unless
we dress him like one.” Lou Edna reached for