WhaleQuest!
The Further Adventures of Jeep Muldoon
By
Matt Musson
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PUBLISHED BY:
WhaleQuest!
The Further Adventures of Jeep Muldoon
Dedicated to some of my best childhood friends: Henry, Dinky, Jeff, Mortimer, Homer, Freddie and Charlie. And, to Bertrand R. Brinley, the man who brought them to life.
Copyright © 2010, 2011 by Matt Musson
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
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Chapter 1 – Whale of an Impact
ERRRRRUUUUUUMMMMMMM!
Thirteen year old Charlie Sinclair gunned the outboard engine and torpedoed our Zodiac at the blow hole geyser spouting just ahead.
The approach was critical and Charlie handled it with a light touch.
We wanted to get in close but we sure wanted to avoid those massive tail flukes crashing down with enough force to smash a real boat. One good whack from the whale's appendage and our little inflatable would pop like a party balloon. And, from this part of Port Royal Sound, it was a long swim to anywhere dry.
“Right!” Thor Munson yelled above the outboard's whine.
Thor raised his hand and made a chopping motion towards the city bus sized creature, while Charlie skated the Zodiac across the surface like a giant water bug. As we squirted in towards the whale, Thor yelled above the din.
“Hand me the spear!”
Up to this point, Toby Trundle and I lay across from each other, draped over the inflated pontoons - praying. With reluctance, we released our death grips and began the maneuver we practiced before in calmer waters.
We'd just gotten the aluminum shaft joined to the razor sharp broad head, when the boat hit a larger swell. Suddenly, we dipped and shot over the wave and the Zodiac grabbed some sick air as it launched over the crest. The little Evinrude screamed as the airborne propeller pushed against nothing.
EEERRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEE!!!!
CRUMP.
The inflatable thumped down hard onto the surface and Toby, and I went flying. Our bright orange safety helmets cushioned the blow as our heads cracked together. We tumbled to the deck, but did not lose our grip on the assembled whaling spear. Somehow we managed to keep the razor sharp edges from slicing through the rubber pontoon walls.
Meanwhile, Thor held tight to the bow rope. Bright sunlight flashed off his aviator glasses and long blonde locks whipped in the wind, curled at the end by the salty spray. Like a Viking Captain Ahab, Thor was totally absorbed in our quarry. He did not even look back at us. He just maintained his harpooner's stance and reached over his shoulder with an empty hand. Toby and I struggled but managed to horse the pole into it.
“Up three feet and over two,” Thor commanded.
Charlie complied without hesitation and got Thor into perfect striking range.
Toby and I flopped around with the constant lurching and jumping, but Thor stuck to his position like a barnacle. With his free hand, he grasped the pole below the lethal cutting head. If the whale held his position for a few more seconds Thor would attack.
“Here goes nothin’,” Thor yelled above the outboard.
Like a striking cobra, Thor plunged the spear deep into the mess of gill net and rope that trailed from the giant creature's mouth. The durable synthetic material was snagged full of buoys and weights that draped around the whale like a deadly harness. It created drag and snagged objects around him and impeded his normal behaviors like swimming, feeding, and just plain breathing.
It was killing the whale. Slowly.
Incredibly, Thor let go of the bow rope and used both hands to guide the weapon as he hacked and jabbed into netting. The blade sliced through nylon like a buzz saw, but the ropes were thick and jumbled. He jerked and thrust and gradually the net began to part.
Thor slashed with a grunt and an entire section of tangled fishing gear floated loose.
Toby, Charlie and I gave a spontaneous cheer as a third of the netting and plastic floats sloughed away from the creature.
But, the massive leviathan was an intelligent being. He knew he was being pursued, and he knew something significant had taken place. And, I guess he just plain had enough of our pesky little inflatable with its noisy engine.
Just as Thor thrust the blade at another snarl of netting, the giant creature snorted a massive plume of water. He sucked in a deep breath and quicker than you would think possible, the giant fish imposter disappeared beneath the dark emerald waves.
We were stunned.
For a few seconds we continued in a straight line. Four sets of eyes scouring the sea, waiting for him to surface. He had to be around here somewhere. A forty ton creature just doesn't disappear!
But, in our case, he had.
Thor took the pole in one hand and made circling motion with the other. Charlie put the Zodiac into a search pattern and powered down the motor. With the slower speed, Toby and I sat up as high as we could without letting go of the sides.
Still nothing.
Finally, in desperation, Thor drew his finger across his neck in a ‘cut it' motion. Charlie killed the engine.
Suddenly… there was quiet.
The silence was deafening after the scream of our little outboard. It took us a minute to adjust to the soft swishing of waves and gulls crying in the distance.
But, there was no sign or sound of the great beast. Our eyes strained at the horizon for a tell tale blow. Our ears ached for a splash or splatter. Unfortunately, we were alone.
“Damn!” said Thor. “Damn, damn, damnitall! I had him. A couple more seconds and he would have been free. Why did he have to dive? I just needed one more good shot!”
“He didn't know that,” replied Toby, taking up for our giant friend. “He didn't realize we were trying to help him. For all he knew we were Japanese whalers out for some blubber sushi.”
“I know,” agreed Thor dejectedly. “It's just that I had him. After all those weeks of planning, training, and tracking… not to mention the money and he slipped right through my fingers.”
“But you got part of it,” said Toby looking on the bright side. “And, the important thing is that it worked. Our plan really actually worked. Levi doesn’t have to die. We can save him.”
Toby continued, “Sure he's not completely free but, we proved it can be done, and that we can do it. We just need another crack at the big guy!”
I knew that Toby was trying to cheer up Thor. But, I also realized he was right. We had proven our plan was workable.
And, I for one never really thought it could be done.
************
It had been little more than a month, since we spotted the story of the entangled whale on a Scuba website about the Florida Keys. And, I'll admit that I was a little dubious when our Club's Chief Scientist, Bogdon Peabody suggested a rescue attempt.
I mean we've had some amazing adventures. We have hijacked Santa's Christmas parade, recovered a Pharaoh's death mask, and ambushed a team of US Navy Seals. But, we are still just going into the 8th grade. An operation of this size and scope was beyond a lot of middle schoolers.
We debated the idea for days before we put it to an official club vote. And, of all the Rangers, I was the last holdout.
It would be difficult. It might even be dangerous. And, most of all, I guess I really did not believe we could do it. Why take the chance?
However, the night before the vote, I had this weird, terrifying nightmare. I was a whal
e making my way up the Atlantic coast. But, I was entangled. And, the nets were slowly tightening their grip.
The pod moved on sleek and free, while I struggled and labored, falling farther and farther behind. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. Each day I got weaker. Each night, it got harder to swim, to eat, to breathe.
Then came the day when the net snagged on a rocky outcrop, and I did not have the strength to pull free. I struggled and yanked and the nylon tore deep into my flesh. I was trapped below the surface, looking up at the sun and the distant blue sky.
Stuck.
Sinking.
Drowning.
I bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath. My heart was racing. My hands were trembling. And, I was totally committed to the rescue.
Days blurred with the feverish activity that followed. Bogdon and Toby charted the migration of the whale and projected his arrival off the coast of South Carolina. Charlie rented a boat slip and storage unit on Town Lake. We bought the Zodiac through our PayPal account and had it delivered there. Then, for 12 days straight we practically lived on the water, rehearsing for the real thing.
It did not take long to work out who was manning the inflatable. Charlie had a natural flair for guiding the little craft and Thor inherited Viking sea legs and a steady hand, so he took the bow.
The middle of the boat was up for grabs, and we tried all different combinations. But, ultimately it came down to the distribution of mass.
Toby and I are roughly the same size and weight, while Freddie's a squirt, Bogdon's a lightweight and Shad is ‘hefty'. Therefore, to keep the boat level, Toby and I got the job with Bog as an alternate.
Oh. The other reason I was chosen is for my locating skills. I am kind of like human sonar when it comes to tracking the poor tangled creature.
You see, my name's Jeep Muldoon. And, I find things.
I could tell you more about my locating skills. But, right now I was busy trying to find the whale.
************
We scoured the troughs and crests of the dark jade swells, hoping for some sight or sign of our target.
“How about it Jeep?” asked Charlie. “Are you getting anything from our big friend?”
“Oh he's still close by,” I replied. “He may not be coming to the surface… but, he hasn't gone far.”
Charlie considered our situation for a second. Then, he made an executive decision.
“Thor, we need to deploy the tracker,” ordered Charlie. “He's liable to make a run for it, and it's a great big ocean out there.”
Thor did not protest the order. He just dropped his shoulders and exhaled. He was clearly disheartened by the change in strategy. We had come a long way to give up now.
Thor gingerly handed me the spear. With the boat stationary, it was an easy job to dismantle it. I carefully pulled off the cutting head and placed it into a flat storage case tied to the starboard pontoon. After all, you can't be too careful with a razor sharp blade in an inflatable boat.
As I was stowing the spear, Toby was undoing the Velcro straps on a short green bazooka-like tube on the inside of the port pontoon. He pulled the tube free and passed it up front to Thor. Then, from a rubberized sea bag, Toby removed a foot long silver missile. Once more, he reached in and pulled out a piece that looked like a six inch aluminum spider. Working quickly, he screwed the eight legged grappling device onto the missile's nosecone. Then, he popped open a compartment on the tail and inserted the battery pack. When Toby snapped the battery compartment shut, two red LED lights came on indicating that the missile was broadcasting.
“We're on the air,” Toby announced to the boat.
At the bow of the Zodiac, Thor screwed a compressed air tank onto a short metal hose coming off the back of the bazooka. When he test fired the trigger there was a satisfying SSHHWWISSH.
Thor turned the front end of his weapon around so Toby could carefully load in the projectile.
Toby gingerly inserted the missile. “You're good to go!”
Thor turned the tube back towards the bow. “I'm hot,” he said. “Just find me a target.”
Thor took his position at the nose of the Zodiac looking like a Junior Rambo with the world's largest paintball gun. In reality, it was a compressed air T-Shirt cannon, we adapted for our special purpose. It was designed to shoot give-a-way T-shirts into the crowd at sporting events.
When Thor hit the trigger again, it would shoot our homing projectile, wherever he was aiming. When the missile hit, the grappling clamp on the front would close. Hopefully, it would attach itself to the netting dragged by our 40 ton friend.
“Keep your eyes open,” I ordered. “I can hear him down there.”
“Which way?” demanded Thor.
“I don't know,” I replied defensively. “It's like he's all around us.”
I closed my eyes and concentrated. He was definitely there but his direction was hard to pin down.
“I think… I think he's circling,” I announced.
I listened even harder.
“He's getting closer... he's getting closer...”
Suddenly, I opened my eyes and yelled!
“HANG ON!”
The water beside us began to bubble and froth. Below the waves something gigantic rocketed towards the surface, and I remember a fleeting glimpse of huge smiling face!
In that final second I looked up, and there stood Thor like an ancient Norse warrior on the Zodiac's bow.
The last thing I recall was a satisfying SSHHWWISSH as a 20 foot head smashed into the side of our little rubber boat.
************
Chapter 2 – Regrouping
Four pairs of feet dangled over the side of the overturned Zodiac as we waited for the ancient chase boat ‘racing' to our rescue. In this race she was the tortoise and not the hare. The white wooden hull of the S.S. Resolve cut through the jade green ocean waves looking like something the Skipper and Gilligan should be crewing. Her teakwood cabin gleamed in the afternoon sun, as the worn-out cruiser made her best possible speed: just faster than a brisk walk.
I wondered if we should start a game of twenty questions to kill time while we waited for our salvation.
But, finally Captain Paul maneuvered the Resolve close along side, and the salty old timer made a perfect downwind approach. Bogdon Peabody, our be speckled chief scientist, stood on the bow, with the trade winds ruffling his mousy brown hair. Bog did not even break a sweat tossing over the life preserver with the rope attached.
Charlie took the rope and fastened it to the opposite side of our inflatable, and we shifted to the edge nearest the cabin cruiser. When Captain Paul put his vessel into reverse, the slack came out of the rope and the cord yanked the far side of the Zodiac straight into the air. For a second, the inflatable was perpendicular to the sea. Then, it flopped over on its bottom with a THUMP. Of course, we slid into the water but the Zodiac was righted when we bobbed back to the surface.
I kicked my feet and pushed up onto the near side pontoon. The boat was rising and falling with the small swells and I waited for the perfect wave to ease back over the rubber wall.
Meanwhile, club member Shad McReynolds leaned his considerable frame over the Resolve's railing, and offered a few words of encouragement.
“You guys are lucky,” Shad called above the drumming of the Resolve's engines. “They used to have a real problem with alligators out here in the Sound. The big lizards nested in the swamps around Parris Island and came out into Port Royal to feed.”
Shad had our attention now, and he continued, “but, now they’ve pretty much quit coming out this far.”
“I'm glad to hear that,” I replied earnestly. “I'd hate to be hanging off the boat and have a big gator come by and tickle my toes.”
“That's true,” joked Toby, who was dangling beside me. “That could ruin your whole day.”
“How did the locals get the alligators to stop feeding in the Sound?” I asked.
“Oh, the locals didn't stop ‘em,” said Shad matter-of-factly. “The Sharks ate ‘em all.”
If you've never seen four boys jump completely out of the water and into the center of a boat, in one coordinated leap, you should have been there that day. It was a sight to behold.
************
We returned to the docks in Beaufort, South Carolina for a post mission debriefing. We went over what went right and what went wrong and, we came to two simple conclusions; the operation had been a partial success, but we were not going to get another chance at our whale in Port Royal Sound.
We had spooked the big guy, and he had gone Moby Dick on us. We would not get near him again until he had some time to cool off.
We called On*Star and got an update on the position of the tracking missile. It confirmed our suspicions. The whale was heading north. The On*Star people must have wondered why our ‘car' was swimming up the Atlantic seaboard but, they did not ask.
We pulled the On*Star device out of a wrecked Chevy Malibu in a junkyard outside of Lenoir. Toby, Charlie and Bogdon made some adjustments to the electronics and created the waterproof missile housing. The club paid for service, which included satellite tracking, for a full year. It would allow us to plot our next intercept, where we could completely free the creature.
Right now, it was time to head home to Granite Falls.
We paid Captain Paul well for a week of his experience and labor, and the use of the Resolve. Charlie used a club debit card to transfer funds to the Graydon Paul School of Sailing. If anyone checked, the transaction would appear reasonable. After all, even our families believed we were down here for a week of sailing lessons.
The next morning, the good Captain delivered us to the Greyhound bus terminal with our luggage in his rusted brown Suburban. As we hopped out of the vehicle he asked us what we were going to do with the Zodiac. He was surprised and very pleased when our club president Charlie Sinclair told him he could have it if he wanted it.