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departure in New York harbour and with his usual flair he waved us off. I am most pleased to have Mister John Carver aboard again as my first mate. He’s sure to be a fine captain himself one day. We have three French Canadians, hired by Mister Astor himself for their expertise in the fur trade. We also have a full complement of Brits and my own countrymen, whom I selected for their steely nerve and hearty dispositions.
    There is one other soul aboard. He is one of Mister Astor’s business partners — Mister Robert Lockhart is a Scotsman from Lower Canada. He will oversee the trading, while I am to be left without interference to captain the Intrepid . I have observed that the man has peculiar habits when relating to the crew and I must report that thus far his encounters are less than favourable. Yesterday when introducing himself he attempted to set his authority by threatening the men. He stated that any man found not to be fully loyal to the American Fur Company would be left on the first island, inhabited or not. In my long career I have found that the loyalty of a good seaman must be won by firm and fair leadership and not threats intended to frighten him into submission. Mister Lockhart must learn these are not schoolboys, but fierce sailors who have weathered the worst the sea has to offer. I shall endeavor to impart this wisdom in the coming weeks.
    At 7 o’clock this evening, Mister Carver brought his report to my cabin and mentioned there was a peculiar ring around the moon — he said it was perhaps a sign of coming bad weather. I know many seamen who are slaves to superstition and think this may be a bad omen, but I have no such fears. While on my walkabout later the clouds had already rolled in and nary the moon nor the stars could be seen. We are prepared for rain in the morning and perhaps there will be a storm by noon. This is not what we desired for our second day at sea, but since the Intrepid is such a solid bark I am certain it can weather anything.
    Captain James Whittaker

Chapter Three
    â€œSo I’ve been thinking, Aunt Margaret,” I said at breakfast the next morning. “I’m sorry about the china and I want to make it up to you.” Mom beamed at me while Aunt Margaret’s eyes narrowed — pretty much what I expected.
    â€œThis plan of yours — it’s going to make up for a broken heirloom that’s almost a hundred and fifty years old?” Aunt Margaret asked dryly.
    That old, eh? I could understand why she was peeved.
    â€œMargie, let’s just hear what she has in mind,” Mom said. I started out carefully.
    â€œI’ll bet keeping Aunt Beatrix entertained all day has been a pain — am I right?” Mom shot me a look about the same time as Aunt Margaret frowned. “Don’t get me wrong … she’s probably been a pain in a nice way.” My speech wasn’t coming out like I had rehearsed in my mind. “Anyway, I was thinking you might like some time off, so how about I do stuff with her sometimes?”
    â€œYou’ll do stuff with her? Like what?” Aunt Margaret asked doubtfully.
    â€œYou know, I could show her around Crescent Beach. I could tell her about the ancient Coast Salish who once lived here. We could visit Mr. Grimbal’s store. Maybe I could show her how to tie sailor’s knots and how to play Crazy Eights. It’ll be fun.”
    Mom and Aunt Margaret looked at each other and I could tell they were talking with their eyes the way sisters do when they know exactly what the other one is thinking. Then they both started to do that snort giggle thing that runs in the family. Why did I have the feeling that maybe I should have thought this through more? I knew Aunt Beatrix was bossy and opinionated, but just how bad could it be spending time with her?
    â€œGood morning, everyone. What’s all this joviality about?” Great Aunt Beatrix came through the kitchen doorway. She