Six Days from Sitka

Front Cover
iUniverse, Jun 16, 2006 - Juvenile Fiction - 136 pages
After being wrongly accused of murdering his father, Matt Albright drops out of high school and flees his broken life in Bonners Ferry, Idaho, for the only other place he knows-Seattle. What Matt doesn't realize is that his job washing boats at the local marina will lead to his dream trip of helping a multimillionaire, KT, pilot his yacht from Seattle to Sitka, Alaska.

Unfortunately, KT dies from a heart attack just days before reaching Sitka. The question of whether to turn back or continue on is answered in several letters and an unusual necklace Matt finds in a wooden sea chest KT is clutching when he dies. The letters explain that KT intended to deliver the necklace to the gravesite of a lost love.

The remainder of the journey is anything but easy as Matt encounters rough seas, engine trouble, illegal border crossings, and captivity when the crooked sheriff from Bonners Ferry finally catches up with him. Matt eventually makes it to Sitka, only to discover that KT's lost love is not buried in the location mentioned in the letters from the sea chest.

Can Matt muster enough patience and persistence to solve the mystery waiting for him in Sitka?

From inside the book

Contents

Flight
1
Navy Days Remembered
9
Seattle Yacht Charter
16
Deep Diving
23
Fishing with the Salts
27
The Sea Chest and the Lady Marie
32
Preparations for Departure
37
On the Way to Alaska
40
Lessons at Sea
52
Another Day on the Water
57
Johnstone Strait and Beyond
69
Going It Alone
79
Captain Matt
90
Trouble
96
On to Alaska
106
Sitka at Last
116

The Black Pickup
50

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Page 92 - And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. "O for a soft and gentle wind!
Page 81 - They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wit's end. Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they be quiet; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven.
Page 65 - TO sea. to sea ! The calm is o'er ; The wanton water leaps in sport, And rattles down the pebbly shore ; The dolphin wheels, the sea-cows snort, And unseen mermaids' pearly song Comes bubbling up, the weeds among. Fling broad the sail, dip deep the oar : To sea, to sea ! the calm is o'er. To sea, to sea ! our...
Page 54 - I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by, And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking, And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking.
Page 81 - They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths ; their soul is melted because of trouble, They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wit's end.
Page 77 - ... breathlessly while the sea rustles in and out of the seaweed; the birds swim through the air at top speed, emitting catcalls as heretofore — the tortoise-shell scourges about the feet of the cliffs, in motion beneath them; and the ocean, under the pulsation of lighthouses and noise of bell-buoys, advances as usual, looking as if it were not that ocean in which dropped things are bound to sink — in which if they turn and twist, it is neither with volition nor consciousness.
Page 92 - The good ship tight and free — The world of waters is our home, And merry men are we. There's tempest in yon horned moon, And lightning in yon cloud; And hark the music, mariners! The wind is piping loud; The wind is piping loud, my boys, The lightning flashes free — While the hollow oak our palace is, Our heritage the sea.
Page 54 - I must go down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
Page 54 - I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

About the author (2006)

Brad Watkins lives in Seattle, Washington where he enjoys exploring the nautical delicacies of Puget Sound in his boat one glacier-swept crevice at a time.

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