Elinor Teele

CHAPTER SEVEN “Hey, Jim! Like the new Lady?” There was only one shout on the Fisher that sounded like music. It was Pepper McGill. Pepper McGill is the most famous woman in the state. Since hitting thirteen, she’s been the

CHAPTER EIGHT “Really eaten by hogs? You mean chewed up and swallowed?” “That’s exactly what I mean,” Pepper switched over to her storytelling voice. “You see, three-hundred-odd years ago, there was a man named Smith living on the island. And

CHAPTER NINE “Permission to come aboard?” Pepper always asks that before she gets into someone else’s boat. “Permission granted.” Pepper plunked a Danforth anchor on the deck and a box on the forward seat. While she did what Da should

CHAPTER TEN If you ever get round to visiting the Fisher, I’d recommend a trip to Kramer’s Neck. It’s gotta be the coolest stretch of land and water in the whole of the U.S.A. Sure, on the map it doesn’t

CHAPTER ELEVEN Before I get back to the Coasties, I’d better explain what the geography is like once you’re free of the Fisher. Whitlock Bay is a funny one. Instead of facing east towards Portugal and Spain and countries where

CHAPTER TWELVE Garret’s Cove is named after Mom’s great-great-great-great grandfather. Or was it uncle? Whoever he was, he’s deader than nails. But there are still plenty of live Garrets on the north part of Cape Mary. Granddad likes to say

CHAPTER THIRTEEN I tell you what, the Olympic team should be talking to me next time they’re in the market for a gold medal. I covered the ground between the pier and the breakwater in exactly 9.137 seconds. Before Jerry

CHAPTER FOURTEEN “Hey, Jim. You sure do stink.” I finished plugging the head of a dead herring on my hook and stuck out my tongue at Benjamin. He was peering over the back of the breakwater, watching me work on

CHAPTER FIFTEEN Of all the hooks in all the bays, this bird had to bite into mine. Have you ever had a seagull on a striper line before? I wouldn’t rec-o-mmend it. It’s about as much fun as catching a

CHAPTER SIXTEEN “Oh, when I was a little boy, or so my mother told me, Way haul away, we’ll haul away Joe, That if I did not kiss the girls, my lips would grow all moldy, Way haul away, we’ll