High and Dry Read online

  Text copyright © Eric Walters 2020

  Illustrations copyright © Sabrina Gendron 2020

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Title: High and dry / Eric Walters ; illustrated by Sabrina Gendron.

  Names: Walters, Eric, 1957– author. | Gendron, Sabrina, illustrator.

  Series: Orca echoes.

  Description: Series statement: Orca echoes

  Identifiers: Canadiana (print) 20190168935 | Canadiana (ebook) 20190168943 | ISBN 9781459823105 (softcover) | ISBN 9781459823112 (PDF) | ISBN 9781459823129 (EPUB)

  Classification: LCC PS8595.A598 H54 2020 | DDC jC813/.54—dc23

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019943969

  Simultaneously published in Canada and the United States in 2020

  Orca Book Publishers is committed to reducing the consumption of nonrenewable resources in the making of our books. We make every effort to use materials that support a sustainable future.

  Summary: In this illustrated early chapter book, a young boy and his grandfather work together to save a beached orca.

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada, the Canada Council for the Arts and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

  Cover artwork and interior illustrations by Sabrina Gendron

  Author photo by Sofia Kinachtchouk

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  orcabook.com

  Printed and bound in Canada.

  23 22 21 20 • 4 3 2 1

  For Quinn, Isaac and Reese.

  —EW

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter One

  They stood on the dock, looking out at the ocean. The water was dark, with whitecaps, and there were even darker clouds in the sky. The winds were so strong that Dylan felt like they’d be blown away. Looking up, he could see an eagle being pushed along by the wind. Rather than soaring, it looked like it was fighting to get back to the shore. Dylan could feel spray on his face from the waves crashing on the rocks.

  “Isn’t it stunning?” his father said.

  “What an incredible painting this would be!” his mother exclaimed.

  “I’ll try to capture it for you so you can paint it later.”

  His father pulled out one of his ever-present cameras and began taking pictures.

  Dylan’s dad was a nature photographer, and his mother was a landscape painter. The three of them had lived on this little island for over ten months now, while his parents painted and took photographs. It was beautiful and wild and isolated. For them this had been a paradise to capture and recreate in photographs and paintings.

  Dylan loved being with his parents, and he loved their island home, but he found it a little lonely. It had been better in the summer, when there were other people on the island, living in their vacation homes. But through the winter months Dylan and his parents had been almost all alone, except for a few short visits from family and friends or the occasional summertime family checking on their property.

  Dylan was being homeschooled by his parents. Instead of going to school with other children, he did most of his lessons at the kitchen table. He liked that the lessons were different from those he’d had at his regular school, but he missed having other kids around. He missed recess. He missed gym class. He was looking forward to people coming back in the summer. It would be nice to have kids to play with again.

  “It’s hard to believe our time is almost up,” his father said.

  “We still have more than four months,” his mother answered.

  At the end of the summer still to come, they’d go back to their house on the mainland, and Dylan would go back to school. It made him happy thinking about going home to their house, his school and his old friends. He was looking forward to all of that, but he would miss their island home too. He’d miss spending so much time with his parents. He’d miss sitting by the fireplace at night and reading. He’d miss their walks through the woods. Most of all, he’d miss living by the ocean. He loved walking along the beach with his parents and watching the water. And even when he couldn’t see it, he could always hear it.

  “The waves are so high today,” Dylan said.

  “It’s pretty rough,” his mother agreed.

  “It looks like there’s a storm blowing in,” his father added.

  “Let’s just hope it doesn’t happen too soon and that the waves aren’t too high for the supply ship to dock,” his mother said.

  “And for Dylan’s grandfather to get in,” his father said.

  That was really what Dylan was thinking about. His mother’s father was coming on that boat. He was going to spend the rest of the spring and summer with them. After all, this was Grandpa’s home. He’d lived here as a boy, and he came back every summer.

  “Do you see them?” his mother asked, pointing.

  “Is it the boat?” Dylan asked.

  “No, it’s the pod,” his mother said.

  His eyes followed her arm.

  “I see them!” Dylan exclaimed.

  The dorsal fins of three or four orcas broke the surface. Seeing them made Dylan smile. There were eleven whales in the group that lived in the waters around the island. The group was called a resident pod. He loved seeing the pod. The orcas fed on salmon and often used the cove to trap schools of fish. There were eight adults, two “teenagers” and one younger orca in the group. His father had taken so many pictures of them that when the orcas were close enough, Dylan could tell them apart by their dorsal fins. He and his parents had given them names and gotten to know them. Dylan had called the little one Oreo because both the whale and Dylan’s favorite cookie were black and white. They could tell Oreo was a boy by his dorsal fin, which was more triangular in shape.

  Dylan and his parents hadn’t seen the orcas only from the shore. They had also kayaked among them. One of the things Dylan loved most about living here was being out in the kayak and watching as the whales worked as a team to capture fish. He was going to miss this pod as much as anything else when they returned to the city.

  “The orcas don’t seem to mind the rough seas,” his father said.

  They watched as the pod swam, dorsal fins appearing and disappearing under the waves, until it vanished around the point and was gone. Then the boat appeared.

  Chapter Two

  While the orcas had glided through the waves, the boat looked as if it was caught in a battle. It was bouncing on the waves and getting tossed by the wind. It wasn’t a big boat—less than sixty feet—and it looked much smaller today, swallowed up by the waves.

  “There he is!” Dylan yelled.

  On the bow of the boat, in a bright-yellow rain slicker, stood his grandpa. He waved at them, and Dylan waved back.

  The boat edged closer and closer. The first mate, Mr. Singh, appeared on the deck. He had a rope in his hands.

  “I’ll help them dock,” Dylan’s father said.

  As the boat neared the dock, Mr. Singh tossed the rope, and Dylan’s father caught it. The boat edged in and then bumped against the big tires that ringed the dock. Mr. Singh jumped off and tied the stern whi
le Dylan’s father tied the bow.

  Dylan’s grandpa got off, and there were hugs and greetings for everybody. Dylan got a particularly big hug from his grandpa.

  “Looked pretty rough out there,” Dylan’s mother said.

  “Not as rough as it’s going to get,” his grandpa said.

  “He’s right,” Mr. Singh said. He placed three large bags—Dylan’s grandpa’s—on the dock. “Captain Ken said the marine weather report has warned that the winds are going to pick up even more. So the waves are probably going to get bigger.”

  Dylan bit on his lower lip—something he always did when he was nervous. His grandpa had arrived safely, but his parents were about to leave. They had a show of their paintings and photographs in the city that had been planned for months, and it was very important to them.

  Captain Ken Fukushima climbed off the boat, and everyone greeted him. He and Mr. Singh piloted this boat on a regular run through the islands every two or three weeks. Everything Dylan’s family needed came on this boat. Big bins of groceries arrived, along with paints and canvases, toys, clothing and whatever was needed to fix things on the property. The cabin was even older than Grandpa, and there was always something going wrong or needing to be fixed.

  “We have to leave again as soon as possible,” Captain Ken said.

  Dylan’s father could tell that his son was feeling anxious about the storm.

  “We’ll be all right,” he said to him.

  “I’ve seen it a lot worse than this,” his mother agreed.

  Dylan didn’t look convinced.

  “It’s rough, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. We won’t let anything happen to your parents,” Captain Ken added.

  His father bent down and looked Dylan in the eyes. “We’ll be back in three days. Okay?”

  Dylan nodded. “You should go. Grandpa will take care of me.”

  “Would you please put our things aboard?” his mother said to Mr. Singh.

  Along with their luggage, they had four wooden boxes that contained her latest paintings and her husband’s latest photographs, all of them framed and ready to be displayed.

  Grandpa put a hand on Captain Ken’s shoulder. “Nobody in the world I trust more than this man.”

  Captain Ken and Dylan’s grandfather had known each other for what seemed like forever. They had both lived on this island when they were little and their fathers worked at the old cannery on the far side. The cannery had been abandoned decades ago and now sat deserted and falling to pieces.

  “We’ll help you get your bags up to the cabin,” Dylan’s father said.

  “Dylan and I can take of it,” Grandpa said. “It’s better that you leave sooner than later, right, Ken?”

  The captain nodded. “I’d like to try to stay ahead of the main part of the storm.”

  “We’ll get the bags up there without you,” Grandpa said.

  Dylan’s mother looked unsure.

  Grandpa read her expression. “Don’t worry. I’m better than ever. No pain. I’m practically a bionic man.”

  Dylan’s grandpa had had his hip replaced two months earlier. It was healing well, but it still caused him some discomfort.

  “We’ll be fine. I have my big, strong grandson to help me.”

  She wasn’t completely convinced, but she knew there was no point arguing with her father. He had always been stubborn and had only gotten more so with age.

  Chapter Three

  Dylan and his grandpa waved as the boat chugged away. It seemed so little on the big ocean. They stood on the dock and watched until it disappeared around the point.

  “We’d better get these bags up before the storm hits,” Grandpa said.

  “What’s in all those bags?”

  “My clothes and a few…well… surprises.”

  “What sort of surprises?” Dylan asked.

  “If I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises. You’ll see. We’ll work together to take this first one.”

  Together they picked up the first bag.

  “It’s heavy!” Dylan said.

  “Some surprises are heavier than others,” Grandpa said with a smile.

  Dylan’s grandpa was famous for doing the unexpected. His daughter claimed he was like a little kid who could afford to buy whatever toys he wanted. And he did. There was no telling what he’d brought with him.

  “You’ve grown so much,” Grandpa said.

  Dylan shrugged.

  “You’ve done four months’ worth of growing since I last saw you.”

  “You’ve changed too.”

  “Have I?”

  “You’re hardly limping.”

  “It’s so much better. No limp and hardly any pain. Not perfect but better.”

  The path was steep and rocky, and they carried the bag between them along the trail. The cabin was a long way from the dock. They finally got there and went inside. Grandpa let out a big sigh. “It’s good to be home.”

  “I’m happy you’re here.”

  “So am I.” Grandpa gave his grandson another big hug. “Being here takes me back to when I was young. Do you know how long it’s been since I was your age?”

  “A hundred years?”

  His grandpa laughed. “Closer to two hundred.”

  “Are you going to tell me what you brought with you now?”

  “Not yet. One bag up and two to go. We should get moving. The storm isn’t waiting.”

  “We could use my wagon to get the others,” Dylan said.

  “Smart. Very smart.”

  Dylan went outside and circled around to the shed where the wagon was kept.

  His grandpa looked around the cabin. It did feel good to be back in the home where he had grown up. He’d have time to read and walk the beach and the paths he knew so well, but he also knew there would be lots to do. The cabin was even older than him, and there were always things that needed to be repaired or replaced. Dylan’s parents were talented artists, but neither of them was good with tools. They could paint or take a picture of something that needed to be fixed, but they couldn’t fix it. It would be up to Grandpa to fix all the things that needed to be fixed.

  Dylan returned with the wagon, and together they hurried back to the dock. The sky was getting darker, and the first drops of rain had started to fall. They hoped they’d get the other two bags up before the rain got heavier.

  Chapter Four

  Dylan and his grandpa sat at the table, eating dinner by candlelight and the light of the fireplace. The storm had gotten worse and worse, the rain pounding down and the winds getting stronger, until finally it had taken out the power. That wasn’t unusual, and the cabin had a backup generator. Unfortunately, the backup generator was one of the things Grandpa had to fix—along with a leak in the roof, a back door that wasn’t opening properly, a window that wasn’t closing and a sink that was clogged.

  Dylan’s parents had both grown up in a city, where you just called a plumber or a roofer to fix whatever went wrong. Out here there was nobody to help, so you learned to do everything yourself. Grandpa had been given a list of the things he needed to fix. Tomorrow he would radio Dylan’s parents and ask them to bring the supplies and parts he needed when they returned to the island. Of course, he could only radio out if the power came back on or if he fixed the generator. No power meant no radio, no cell phones and no internet.

  Outside the wind whistled loudly through the trees, and the rain pounded down on the roof. Dylan was happy to be inside, safe and dry and warm. He’d been even happier to hear that his parents had made shore before the storm hit fully. Captain Ken had radioed to tell them. Thank goodness it had been before the power went out, or Dylan would have worried all night.

  “I think it’s time for your surprises,” Grandpa said. “You clear the table, and I’ll get the items.”

  “Items?” Dylan asked excitedly.

  “Like, I said, surprises. More than one.”

  Grandpa went to the bedroom and grabbed the heaviest bag. By the
time he returned with it, the table was cleared and Dylan was anxiously waiting. Grandpa put down the bag and opened it without letting Dylan see inside. He pulled out the first item.

  “Wow!” Dylan exclaimed.

  It was a big, beautiful kite that looked like an eagle. His grandpa put in the supports, and the eagle’s wings opened.

  “It’s life-size. I brought along over five hundred feet of string. We can make it soar. And speaking of soaring…” He reached into the bag and placed the second item on the table.

  “It’s a drone!” Dylan said excitedly.

  It was black with silver trim. It had four little rotors with red blades.

  “It has a camera, so we can take pictures and livestream video,” Grandpa explained.

  Grandpa took out a big controller. “It’s remote control. Of course, we’re going to have to wait for the storm to pass. It has to be a lot calmer than it is tonight before we can launch it.”

  Dylan had one more reason to hope it would be calm the next day—so he could play with the drone.

  “It can fly for almost thirty minutes at a time. I’m excited that I’m going to be able to see this island in a way I’ve never seen it before,” Grandpa said. “I’m really looking forward to flying it.”

  “Grandpa, will I be able to fly it too?”

  His grandfather laughed. “You’re not only going to be flying it—I’m sure you’ll be much better at it than I will. Now it’s time for one last thing.”

  Grandpa reached into the bag and pulled out the final item. He set it down on the table with a heavy clunk. It looked heavy. It was large and long and made of metal, and it had a handle like a broom.

  “This is going to be perfect for tomorrow,” Grandpa said.

  Dylan stared. “What is it?”

  “It’s a metal detector.”

  Dylan tilted his head to the side. “What does it do?”

  “It can find things buried in the sand. There’s no telling what might be there. We could find some real treasure.”