Ghosts of the Pacific Read Free Page A

like perfection.
Some people find the sound of waves, or the wind through
trees, peaceful and soothing. For me it was the hum of our
engine, even though it was, as Ziegfried called it, a “well-behaved explosion in a pretty tank.” I found it comforting
and reassuring. It was the sound of power and independence. It made me feel strong and confident.
    We were carrying enough fuel to sail roughly ten thousand miles. That would take us to the far side of the Pacific.
I would buy diesel somewhere over there to sail back. If we
ever ran out of fuel I had the stationary bike, which could
propel the sub at a speed of four knots when I pedalled
steadily. At that rate, taking into consideration winds andcurrents, and how much I could pedal each day, it would
probably take us about a year to reach the far side of the
Pacific. But I wasn’t planning on running out of fuel.

Chapter 3

    ZIEGFRIED WAS AN amazing inventor. Of all his inventions,
besides my sub, the one I liked the most was a doggie treadmill for Hollie. I thought it was really cool and hoped it
would solve a big problem for the long distances we travelled: Hollie’s need for exercise. It was two feet long and ten
inches wide. It fit sideways against the inside hull, beside the
stationary bike, when it wasn’t being used. I simply dropped
it into place whenever I pedalled, and Hollie would jump
onto it immediately. The treadmill had a tiny motor with
three speeds. Hollie could trot, run gently, or, if he were
bursting with energy, run fast. He loved it.
    He ran at the very front, leaving half of the track free.When he wanted to get off, he ran faster and jumped off the
front. The only thing we didn’t anticipate was Seaweed’s interest. If Hollie got something new, Seaweed wanted it too.
    Seaweed would jump on after Hollie but could only stay
on when the treadmill was in trot speed. Seagulls weren’t
built for jogging. He was twice Hollie’s height but took up
less space with his feet. When Seaweed was on the treadmill
I had to turn my head the other way because I would start
to laugh. It was the funniest thing I had ever seen. But Sheba
had told me never to laugh at an animal or a bird—it was a
sign of disrespect—so I had to look the other way.
    Fortunately Hollie preferred a steady run, and Seaweed
could only stand beside him, glare at him and occasionally
nip at the track with his beak. I didn’t think it was unfair;
Seaweed got to fly outside for hours every day.
    Another piece of new equipment was an inflatable kayak,
a birthday present for me from Ziegfried and Sheba. I had
tested it already and it was amazing. It was just ten feet long
and cut through the water like a razor. I kept it folded beneath my seat at the panel board. That was one thing about
travelling in a sub: everything had to be kept in its own exact
spot and measured to the quarter inch.
    The kayak inflated quickly, just like the rubber dinghy. We
ran an air hose up the inside of the portal, and the kayak
took only thirty seconds to inflate. I made a test to see how
quickly I could pull it from under my seat, climb the portal
with it, unwrap it, inflate it, grab the paddle pieces, screwthem together into one, throw on a life jacket and jump into
the kayak with Hollie. Two and a half minutes. We should
have been on TV.
    Deflating the kayak, folding it, wrapping it up and putting everything back in its place took about fifteen minutes.
    The last piece of new equipment was a desalinator. It
looked like a fancy teapot from ancient Persia. The metal on
the bottom was thin and heated quickly, but the sides were
insulated to keep the heat inside. You filled the pot with salt
water and it started boiling from the bottom, creating steam,
which separated the salt from the water. Steam doesn’t carry
salt because it’s too heavy. The top of the pot was sealed
except for a narrow copper tube through which the steam
would escape then condense into water in