Calico Pennants Read Online Free PDF

name is Tamara Sly,” she said.
    “Julian Crosby. Pleased to meet you.”
    With full lips she sipped passion fruit nectar through a straw. Her sun-bleached hair fell capriciously over her cheeks and forehead. Her blue eyes were full of sun, too.
    “I’ve only been in Hawaii a little more than a week,” Julian explained. “What is this expedition all about?”
    “Hawai’iloa is a modern-day re-creation of the voyaging canoes used by the ancient Polynesians,” she explained. “For a long time it was thought that stories told by the Hawaiian priests were nothing more than myth and fantasy—that such a dangerous voyage was impossible without modern-day navigation equipment. Now, Nainoa Nainoa is attempting to make the trip navigating the old way—by the stars and other elements. They’ve been sailing for weeks, and they’re due to land at Hilo this Sunday!”
    “And that’s what Kamehaloha wants to see...”
    “It’s a matter of intense cultural pride for the Hawaiian people.”
    “You’re not a native Hawaiian,” Julian observed.
    “Hardly,” she laughed. “I came here three years ago from Alaska. I guess you could say I was following the Trades.”
    “And what about Kamehaloha?”
    “Hawaiian, through and through.”
    “But his last name is obviously Chinese.”
    She brushed her bangs aside, sat back, kicked off her sandals, and crossed her long, bare legs. “The first Chinese settlers came to Hawaii in the 1850’s, I think. Mostly men. They worked on the sugar plantations and in the pineapple fields. They were incredibly frugal, and eventually they started their own businesses and bought land. Many of the immigrants married Hawaiian girls. Kamehaloha can trace his ancestry as far back as Sun Yat Sen, the Chinese revolutionary!”
    “I guess I never realized Hawaiian genealogy was so complex,” said Julian.
    “Actually, there are very few full-blooded Hawaiians left. Most of them live on Ni’ihau, a tiny island off the west coast of Kauai. But haoles aren’t allowed to go there.”
    “I keep hearing that word, haole,” Julian said. “What does it mean, anyway?”
    Tamara laughed. “You’re haole! So am I. It’s the Hawaiian word for non-Hawaiians, specifically Whites. It’s an odd word, really. It comes from two words in their language: Ha means life; ole is death. The synthesis is something like living-dead.”
    “Sounds a little insulting,” Julian ventured.
    “Kamehaloha sometimes makes fun of haoles, but he’s just a local boy. It’s only talk; it doesn’t mean anything. His heart is as big and bright as Haleakala!”
    “He took me diving off Molikini Island the other day,” Julian told her. “He seems like a terrific guy.”
    Eavesdropping on their conversation, Song Cajudoy coughed conspicuously at Julian’s summation of Kamehaloha’s personality.
    “I know you’re going to enjoy the Scoundrel,” said Tamara. “And the landing of Hawai’iloa should be quite an event. I wish I were going to be there.”
    “Why not come along with us?” suggested Julian.
    “You wouldn’t mind?”
    “Why would I?” he said.
    “I’d love to come,” said Tamara. “Fill me in on all the details.”

    BEFORE THE SUN ROSE above Haleakala Crater, Julian arrived at Lahaina’s small boat launch with a brand new attaché case filled with crisp one hundred dollar bills. Standing barefoot and alone on the pier where the Scoundrel was moored, he was inclined for a moment to question his sanity. Buying this boat seemed to imply some sort of unsuspected covenant.
    Nevertheless, an idiosyncratic feeling of resignation overshadowed any lingering doubts, and inept as Julian might prove as a sailor, he was happy to be going to sea on his own boat. He hoped Tamara Sly would show up as planned for the trip to Hilo.
    Sadly, Julian had begun to experience his own loneliness. It was not an unfounded sensation; rather it was a peculiar one which had long remained hidden and now surfaced at an