The Secret of Buccaneer Bay (Kristi Cameron Book 5) Read online

  “Come on, guys, let’s find our room!” Skeeter shouted. He raced back across the bridge to the living area, and then across the second of the bridges. He poked his head out the door of the third treehouse before the others were even over the bridge and said, “Nope, I think this one must be for you and Dad, Mom. It’s all kind of, well, you know—mushy!”

  The others let Rachel and Steve enter first. “You’re right, Skeeter,” his mother said as she looked around in delight. “This is a gorgeous little romantic hideaway! Or as you put it so perfectly—it’s mushy! I love it!”

  Skeeter was already out the door and headed for the last platform. “Yeah!” they heard him yell as the door slammed behind him. “Hey, guys! This is great! Come here and take a look!”

  The last bedroom was smaller and more rustic than the others. It had two bunks and a couple hammocks, and was decorated like the cabin of a ship. Ship’s lanterns were suspended from the ceiling and a captain’s wheel hung on the wall. There were small lighthouses and a couple of lifesaver rings and marine flags for decorations, as well. Dan and Pete were as happy with their space as Skeeter was, if not as loud. “Aargh! Now this is what I call a real man’s cabin, me mateys!” he was saying as he waved an imaginary sword in the air.

  “Hmm, too bad there aren’t any real men to use it!” Robyn teased.

  “Aargh!” Skeeter scowled at her.

  Robyn giggled and said, “You can’t scare me, Peg-Leg! Come on, Anna and Kristi. Let’s go take another look at our room.” They heard Skeeter saying as they started back across the rope bridge, “Peg-Leg! That reminds me, Mom—I’m starving! That wooden leg of mine is hollow again!”

  Rachel laughed and said, “I saw a bunch of snacks on the table when we came in. Help yourselves, all of you, but don’t fill up because we’ll be eating dinner soon.” She happened to glance out the window just then and said, “Oh, look—I’ll bet that’s our luggage!”

  A golf cart was coming up the path. It stopped at the foot of the spiral staircase and a pair of islanders carried their suitcases and other bags up to the treehouse.

  “Whew, that was sure worth the tip you gave them, Steve,” Rachel said when they were gone. “Our little paradise in the treetops is wonderful, but the only thing I want to haul up and down those stairs is myself!”

  As difficult as it was to tear themselves away from their villa in the trees, the young people were anxious to check out the beach on Marigot Bay. They quickly donned their swimwear, grabbed some towels and hiked down to the sandy shore.

  The deep cove was peaceful, surrounded on three sides by steep emerald hills and fringed with coconut palms. A few yachts floated out in the bay, but the beach itself was deserted. The water and sand were warm from the rays of the setting sun. If the forested hills were emerald, and the water turquoise, the rich jewel-tones of the sunset sky were ruby, topaz, amethyst and sapphire. The teenagers were unusually quiet as they basked in its glow, awed by the splendor and majesty of the Creator’s hand.

  “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” Kristi asked. The others simply shook their heads, too enchanted to even speak.

  They lazed on the sand, and floated in the tranquil water for a while, but all too soon it was getting dark, so they headed back to their treehouse villa. They had no trouble finding it in the forest this time, for soft lights glowed from the windows up in the treetops. Steve and Rachel were sitting on the veranda outside their room waiting for them. “Come on up,” Rachel called down softly to them. “We’ve just been enjoying that spectacular sunset. Wasn’t it wonderful?”

  “Beautiful!” the teens all agreed.

  Steve and Rachel had ordered a late dinner to be delivered to their villa. They ate on the veranda overlooking the bay. The moon, a large silver disc, hung low over the sea, creating a path of diamonds across the water. A symphony of frogs and insects provided a concert to dine by. It couldn’t have been more perfect!

  They finally crossed over the rope bridges to their rooms and went to bed. Kristi snuggled down into her cozy bunk, ready to sleep, but enjoying the moonlight streaming through her window and the serenade of the nighttime critters too much to close her eyes. Anna and Robyn had fallen asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow, so now Kristi savored these moments of quiet reflection. If there was any way to describe the Caribbean, she thought sleepily, it would have to be as a jewel box—a wealth of rich color from the island itself, the sea, and the sky. If this little spot on earth was so beautiful, she couldn’t even begin to understand how wonderful Heaven would be! Thank you, Lord! she whispered. At last she closed her eyes and slept peacefully in her emerald paradise in the trees.

  ___________

  CHAPTER THREE

  ___________

  Pigeon Point, Pirates, Ponies and Paul

  They were awakened the next morning by noisy parrots, peewees, wrens and orioles sharing the branches of their treetop shelter. Kristi woke up feeling almost as if she were still dreaming. The treehouse seemed unreal for a moment, like something out of a storybook. Kristi stretched, and breathed deeply of the fresh air blowing in off the bay. You couldn’t help but feel a part of nature itself, she thought, when you sleep in a tree!

  Robyn didn’t give her long to enjoy the moment, though. “Come on, Sleepyhead!” she called, lobbing a pillow at Kristi’s head. “Anna and I have been awake for ages! Get up! Your dad said last night that we need to get an early start this morning! Hurry up and get dressed. We’re going to get breakfast. The guys are already eating, and if you don’t hurry there won’t be anything left for you!”

  Kristi could feel the vibration of their footsteps across the rope bridge on the bare floor as she jumped out of bed. She ran into the tiny bathroom and started the shower. The water was hardly more than a drizzle, and not very warm, but the feeling of showering outdoors and in a tree, yet, was amazing! She hurried, though, and soon was throwing on shorts and a T-shirt. She quickly put her hair in a ponytail and joined the others in the living area.

  To her relief there was still plenty of breakfast left. The resort had furnished an astonishing array of muffins and croissants, jams and jellies, cereal, tropical fruits, juice, milk, tea and coffee. They watched several colorful sailboats race across the bay as they ate.

  Finally Rachel said, “Well, we need to be on our way if we want to pack in everything on our agenda today. I think we’re going to start this vacation with my research on the pirates of St. Lucia. I know from past experience that if I don’t get the research done first, I’ll get so wrapped up in having fun that I won’t get any work done at all. So this time, work comes first!”

  Kristi laughed. “Come on, Mom! We all know work with you turns into fun anyhow, so don’t try to fool us!”

  “Besides,” Skeeter added, “researching pirates? How cool is that!”

  “I’m curious, Mrs. Cameron,” Pete said. “Why did you choose St. Lucia? Pirates were far more common on other islands of the Caribbean like the Bahamas, Bermuda, Jamaica, Cuba and Haiti.”

  “Yes, I know, Pete, and we almost did go to Jamaica instead, but the book I am writing involves modern day piracy, as well as the pirates of old. The only places in the Caribbean these days where they are still having trouble with pirates is closer to the northeast coast of South America. When I started researching the islands in that area, well, I have to confess—I just couldn’t resist St. Lucia! It just sounded so beautiful—and the perfect place for a Caribbean holiday!” Rachel grinned. “There was one pirate, though, who actually lived here on St. Lucia. He was French, and his name was Francois LeClerc, but he was known as Le Capitaine Jamb de Bois—or in other words, old Captain Wooden-Leg!”

  “Ha!” Skeeter crowed. “Captain Wooden-Leg! That’s me! I knew there was something about this place that seemed familiar to me! Maybe I was old Capitaine Jamb de Bois in a past life!”

  Steve laughed, but then said, “I know you’re just joking around, Son, but in the first place we don’t believe in past
lives and that nonsense, and in the second place let’s not start glamorizing the pirates of old, as they do in the movies. They were the bad guys—and I do mean bad. Although some pirates actually started out working for their governments in attacking ships from other countries, somewhere along the line many of them became outlaws and dangerous men. They were murderers and robbers and did horrible things to innocent people.”

  “Yeah, I know, Dad. I wouldn’t want to really meet one of them—or a modern-day pirate, either. So what do these modern-day pirates do? They don’t sail around in those big old sailing ships, do they?”

  “No, they use modern boats—speed boats or even fishing boats,” Rachel spoke up. “There are some cases of just very poor, desperate people looking to steal whatever they can, but there are also well-organized, dangerous gangs who are drug runners, smugglers, and plain old thieves. They may be after the cargo a ship is carrying, or simply want the boat or ship itself. They pretend to be broken down or in trouble, and when unsuspecting boaters comes along to help, they’re in for a nasty surprise.”

  “So where are we going, Mom, for your research?” Kristi asked.

  “We’re going to start off at Pigeon Point in the very north end of St. Lucia. There’s an old fort there and—well, you’ll see! Then we’re going to—no, on second thought I think we’ll keep that a secret for now, too! Come on—the day’s a-wasting! Grab your swimsuits and whatever else you want, because we’ve got a lot of fun stuff planned!”

  “Mom! You and your secrets!” Kristi exclaimed, but she hurried to pack a beach bag and hustled down the spiral stairs with Kristi and Anna and out to the van.

  A few minutes later they were turning out of Emerald Paradise and headed north. They drove past several banana plantations and were surprised to see huge bunches of green bananas growing upside down from the trees. Lime trees grew alongside the road and they stopped to pick a few.

  Even with their sightseeing along the way, it didn’t take long to reach the capital city of St. Lucia. Castries was a bustling city with open air markets and streets lined with colorful, colonial style houses built up the hillsides overlooking the harbor. Though it was tempting to stop and shop at the market place, they kept going and thirty minutes later they arrived at Pigeon Point.

  The tiny islet, also known as Pigeon Island, was near the very northern tip of St. Lucia and was linked to the main island with a roadway. There were beautiful old ruins as soon as they went through the gates of the national park, but the group decided to go on up to the ruins of old Fort Rodney itself.

  The climb up the hill was hot and steep. “St. Lucia actually has a thousand years of history,” Rachel said, huffing and puffing a bit as she hiked. “I did a little research before we came and learned that it was first settled by peace-loving Arawak Indians, until later the more warlike Carib Indians came along and took it over. Do you remember who discovered the New World?”

  “Sure,” Dan said. “Christopher Columbus. He thought he’d gone around the world to the Orient.”

  “Right, but actually it was the West Indies,” Pete added.

  “Yes, and St. Lucia is part of what we call the West Indies,” Rachel said as she paused to rest a moment. “For a long time people thought Columbus had actually come ashore on one of his voyages in 1499, but now it’s pretty certain he didn’t. One of his sailing buddies, though, Juan de Cosa, was the first European to set foot on the island. But it was our old friend Le Capitaine Jamb de Bois who was the first European to actually settle on St. Lucia—right here on Pigeon Point where he could attack passing Spanish ships!”

  “You’re kidding! He was the first?” Skeeter asked.

  “Uh-huh. Later there was a Dutch colony on the southern end of the island, but it was the French and British who really fought over St. Lucia for over 150 years. Seven times it belonged to the French, and seven times it was under British rule, until finally the British ended up with it.”

  “I can see why they’d fight over it,” Robyn said. “It’s so beautiful!”

  “I doubt if they’d wage war over a cool vacation spot!” Skeeter scoffed.

  “Well, that’s probably not why they fought over it,” Rachel said, “but actually King Louis XVI did have the first “spa” built on St. Lucia, and the Empress Josephine vacationed at it as a child!”

  “Wow! Well, come on! Let’s go check out the fort!” Skeeter said. He took off running up the hill again.

  Fort Rodney was mostly broken walls of stone now, the ruins of the old hospital, kitchen and barracks. The British officers’ dining hall had been restored to the way it had been in the early 1800’s, however, and turned into a small museum. The teens took a quick walk around the displays, but then headed outdoors again, leaving Rachel to her research and Steve to study the fort’s military history.

  Skeeter, of course, led the way back out to the ruins. “Hey, guys, look at this!” he called as they came out into the bright sunshine. “Cannons! Cool!” Several big, old, rusted cannons were pointed out to sea. He was straddling one like a horse when the others finally caught up with him.

  “Skeeter! Get off of that!” Kristi said in dismay. “You’re going to get in trouble! Those are antiques, and national landmarks. I’m sure you’re not allowed to climb on them!”

  “Oops, I guess you’re right,” Skeeter said as he reluctantly climbed down. “But can you imagine Captain Wooden-Leg shooting these things?”

  “Well, in the first place,” Dan said, “this fort and these cannons came long after Le Capitaine. But even if they had been here at the same time, these babies would have been shot at the pirates, not by them. The British defended the islands against pirates, the French, the Spanish…”

  “Okay, okay! I’ve had enough history and geography for one day!” Skeeter said. “We’re supposed to be on vacation! Let’s go see what’s at the top of that hill!” He darted off toward a path leading up ‘Signal Hill,’ a sign said.

  If they thought the climb up to the fort had been bad, this one was even steeper and harder. There was no shade, and the sun beat down on their heads. Toward the top they had to scramble over big boulders. It was slippery in places, and there wasn’t much at the top—except for the view.

  It was spectacular. They could look out onto Rodney Bay and the Caribbean Sea, and far down the western coast of St. Lucia. They turned to the north and saw another large island in the distance. “That’s Martinique, I think,” Pete said. “It’s just twenty miles north of St. Lucia, and I read that you can see it from here on a clear day.”

  “Well, it’s a clear day, alright,” Kristi said. “That sun is hot! Looking down on all that beautiful turquoise water makes me wish we could go for a nice refreshing swim!”

  “Well, maybe we can,” her father said. They turned. Steve had hiked up the hill, too, and was wiping his brow. “Wow! This view is fantastic! If we can tear ourselves away from it, though, Mom is almost done with her research and we need to be on our way again. We have something special planned for you this afternoon.”

  The teens wasted no time going back down to the fort. The hint of a swim was enough to motivate them and they were waiting by the van drinking bottles of cold water when Rachel came out of the museum at last. She had a satisfied look on her face.

  “Ready?” she asked. “I think I got most of what I needed here. Now to simply drink in the atmosphere of the Caribbean and imagine myself back in the golden age of pirates… That’s the kind of research I really like!”

  “Uh-huh. I have a feeling this whole thing about having to do research was an excuse for me to take you on a vacation in the Caribbean!” Steve teased.

  “My, my! You do catch on quickly!” his wife grinned. “So come on! Let’s go drink in some atmosphere!”

  The teenagers had no idea where they were going at first. Steve headed north up the coast again past more banana plantations and groves of fruit trees, but they hadn’t gone far when Kristi clapped her hands and said, “I know! I know! We’re g
oing to the Caribbean Pony Club, aren’t we? There’s the sign!”

  “How’d you get to be so smart?” her dad asked with a grin as he turned off the highway just beyond the sign. A few minutes later they were stopping in front of the stables.

  Most of the horses were in a corral next to the stables. They were small and stocky, not like the taller more ‘elegant’ horses they had ridden in the States.

  “Ponies?” Skeeter asked, trying to hide his disappointment. “Aren’t we a little too big for ponies?”

  “They’re called Creole ponies, Skeeter, and they’re actually small horses,” Steve said. “These Creole ponies are descendents of the horses the Spanish were carrying on their ships hundreds of years ago. When the ships capsized and sank some of the horses swam ashore here, and the ponies you’re looking at now are their great-great-great-great grandchildren!”

  “Wow!” Skeeter looked at the ponies with a little more respect.

  While Steve was making arrangements for the ride, Rachel passed out the jeans and sneakers she had swiped from each of their suitcases. “You’ll need long pants and regular shoes on this ride,” she explained, “because we’ll be going through some heavily wooded areas where you could get scratched up otherwise. Put your swimming suits on under your clothes, though. We’ll be swimming with the horses later!”

  “Cool!” the kids said, and went to change out of their shorts and sandals.

  Their guide Sam had the horses lined up and ready to go when they got back. The ponies may have been small but most of them had as much energy and spirit as any larger horse they had ever ridden. They were extremely sure-footed, as well, they discovered as they followed Sam down a winding, rocky trail to a beach in a quiet cove.

  “Hey, this is the Atlantic Ocean, isn’t it, Mr. Cameron?” Pete suddenly said. “We’re facing east now, so that can’t be the Caribbean Sea.”