“I wonder what we’re getting ourselves into,” Celia whispered to Goldie when they walked outside. She and Goldie strolled beneath the tall palms to the edge of a sparkling white beach.
“I don’t know, Cee,” Goldie said. “It’s scary and exciting all at once.”
“And beautiful,” Celia answered. She looked out across the horizon where blue met blue. Closer to the beach whitewater raced along the reef in cross currents.
“Cut’s called ‘Devil’s Jaw,’” Nick said. He and Mark came up behind Celia and Goldie. “Some good lobster holes, good spear fishing. Dangerous, though.”
“That cut is to our advantage,” Mark said, “because no one comes around much.”
“If the Cormoran is out there, how in the world are we supposed get through that cut?” Celia shivered.
“We’ll figure a way,” Mark said.
“Let’s eat!” Goldie yelled. Nick and Goldie had a fire started on the beach for the hot dogs they’d brought. They slipped their hot dogs on straightened coat hangers and sat in the warm sand. Meat juices sizzled in the fire. Celia remembered other hot dog roasts at the Mill in her beloved North Carolina.
How far away, she thought. No frogs or crickets but somehow the same.
Nick popped the cork on a bottle of German wine and filled four plastic cups. He handed them around.
“It is appropriate,” Mark announced as he lifted his cup, “that we offer a toast.” They all stood.
“To the Cormoran! May she be resting peacefully in calm and shallow water. And to our crew. May we be courageous in our search and, above all, steadfast in our friendship.” They lifted their cups.
“Hear! Hear!” They answered in unison. For the longest time the adventurers sat around the fire in silence. The covenant was sealed.