Adrift in the Sound Read Online Free PDF

beneath, allowing the youngster to breathe without tiring.”
    Rocket studied the familiar pictures of the mothers and babies, the pod swimming among ice flows. “Orcas are the fastest mammals in the sea. Although they can weigh up to 13,000 pounds, they can swim up to 35 miles an hour, which helps them catch food. Rocket read the words again, mentally calculating the speed at about 22 knots, figuring the Sea Wolf did 10 knots when she was underway on a calm sea.
    They are curious and sometimes attracted to boats,” he read. Rocket knew Looney was what they called a rogue, lived separate from the family pods of killer whales that hunted around the San Juan Islands. Rocket had watched him shadow a tug as it escorted a freighter toward port. He believed the playful animal wanted to join in the fun, be a part of the game, go with them like he was part of the family.
    Rocket closed the book, its cover smudged from years on the tug and the greasy hands of boredom. He dreamed of swimming, his arms by his sides, drawn through the water in an iridescent slip-stream, Looney’s tail just beyond reach, undulating as they powered through the unresisting water.
    “Hey man, roll out!” Rocket startled awake and the whale book hit the deck with a flat pop. The second mate banged on the metal door again. “Hit the deck, Rocket. Chow’s on.” The guy opened the door and leaned in, his blood-shot eyes scanned the room as if checking for a stowaway, then he twisted his lips into a pleased smirk at the jolt he’d given the sleeping deckhand. “Hurry up, man, if you want some.”
    At five, Rocket went on deck to stand his watch. They were still miles from the rendezvous with the ocean tug towing the gravel barge. He fretted about the complicated tie-up they’d have to do in the dark to secure the load. He watched the gulls swoop in tangents, skimming the water’s surface as night clamped down. Leaning over the side, Rocket spotted Looney in the last glimmers of light. The orca paced the tug, the tug’s wake washing over his black-and-white body. He came abreast, his long dorsal fin sporting above the whitecaps. He dived, surfaced, and raced ahead of the Sea Wolf . Rocket gripped the top of the gunwale and laughed into the wind, inflating his lungs, electrified.
    Rocket knew Looney’s tricks, how he often crossed under the hull, popping up on the opposite side of the boat, tossing his big head, waiting for him to chase across the deck and lean over the railing to find the teasing orca, water frothing around him. When Looney submerged, Rocket hustled starboard for the game of hide-and-seek. The tug listed unnaturally, the spinning props sputtered.
    The Sea Wolf’s engines throttled down. The men scrambled on deck, knowing instinctively something was wrong, that they’d run over something and needed to do a hull check. The Sound was littered with big logs that had come loose from carelessly tied barge loads and other boating debris. The tug’s engines reversed, sending the men lurching as they charged for their stations. The loudspeaker needlessly called, “All hands, All hands.” Rocket ran to the stern, released the winch and dropped the dinghy to the water. The mates scrambled down the metal ladder aft and jumped on board.
    “We got something,” the first mate hollered and yanked the cord to fire up the weather-beaten outboard motor.
    They signaled for line. Rocket threw to the men bobbing in the darkness and, in the fluster, missed his target. The captain flipped on the floodlights, which made Looney’s broad side glisten in the water. Rocket hauled the wet rope back in and prepared for another toss. The first mate pulled out the grappling hook from the bottom of the dinghy and sunk it into Looney’s side, poling closer to prevent the carcass from drifting. Blood like warm cherry Jell-O feathered the water. Rocket kept hauling line, hand-over-hand, looking at the whale’s blank eye, seeing that the curtain was drawn. At