“We’re here!”  Rick called down into the cabin of the Catalina now that the all encompassing drone of the engines had stopped.  “Would all passengers, please unfasten their seatbelts and get their butts in gear!”  He laughed good naturedly, “Seriously folks, you have one stunning island waiting for you, a real Pacific paradise.  Make sure that you have all your gear and we’ll get you ashore as soon as we can.

Carmen and Charlie efficiently dragged the rubber boat into position and got it prepared, throwing it into the sea as it began to inflate from the compressor.  Now that they had done this three times before it was becoming easier, as well as faster.  Charlie watched as the black oval transformed from an undulating mat, moving with the glass-clear waves, into a rigid inflatable.  He climbed down into the boat and unhooked the air line.  Carmen passed him the outboard which he fastened efficiently to the wooden stern.  She jumped down and immediately started placing bags and rucksacks that Big George threw down after her.  Charlie joined in, making sure that the bags were spread out in the base of the rubber boat.  I hope these bags are waterproof, he thought as he watched the sea water lap from side to side in the bottom of the inflatable.

They decided to take two extra passengers, Winthrop-Smythe and a sour cockney by the name of J J Jones, who said little and glowered at the children any time they looked at him.  Charlie was not entirely happy with his proximity to Winthrop-Smythe but it turned out he had little to worry about because the men simply ignored them for the journey to the beach, sitting still as statues.  The only sign of excitement or life that they showed was when they waved as they caught site of the advance party emerging into the sunlight from under the shade of the palms, as the boat approached.

Carmen guided the boat in carefully, being an experienced helmsman, keeping the prow aligned perpendicular to the waves, which crashed against the shore in a steady, continuous boom.   They ground up on the sand in a flurry of white surf and the two men leaped out like seasoned mariners.  Winthrop-Smythe didn’t even get his boots wet.  They stalked up the beach to the meet the four men who were acting as the advance party.

“I bet they’re not even going to help carry these bags,” Carmen grumbled as she and Charlie stumbled up the hard sand dragging the boat out of the worst of the breakers.

“Yeah,” Charlie puffed.  Sweat had started to soak him as soon as he made any effort to drag the boat up the beach. “Lazy b…..!”  His words were cut off by a sudden eruption of sound from the forest.  A cacophony of bird calls and insect noise swelled to a crescendo then died away just as abruptly.

The two children looked at each other bemused.  “What was that?” asked Carmen.

“I don’t know, I was going to ask you that,” admitted Charlie.  “I thought it would be the sort of thing you’d know about.”

“Yeah, because I prance around on deserted islands wearing nothing but a grass skirt, is that what you’re saying?”  Carmen said hotly.

“No!”  Charlie insisted, whilst uncomfortable visions of the Tongan girl sashaying around in a hula skirt played behind his eyes. “I didn’t mean that, I just thought that you’d be familiar with it, is all.  I mean, it’s not like Tonga’s a million miles away from this place, is it?  It’s not like London, I can tell you that for free!”

“No?  Well, it’s not like Sydney either!” said Carmen.

“Sydney?  What’s that got to do with it?”

“That’s where I live.  I’m only home for the holidays.  I live with my Auntie during term time.  I go to a school in Sydney.” 

Puzzled, Charlie asked, “But why?  Why not stay at home and go to a Tongan school?”

“Because my dad doesn’t want me to get stuck on Tonga.  It’s a long way from anywhere, as he puts it.  He wants me to get educated abroad, see the world and have a career before I go back.  In case you hadn’t noticed there’s not a lot of opportunity on Tonga and anybody who has children, or ambition, does what they can to send someone away to live and learn in another country.  I’ll be expected to return that support when I’m older by sending money home to the family, which might help one of my younger cousins do the same.”  She paused and stood facing Charlie with her hands on her hips. “It’s kind of why I went a bit over the top at the party.  I’d only just got back too.”

“Come on you two!  Time is money and those bags won’t unload themselves.  My boss is getting a bit narky over there and wants you to get a move on.”  It was Pincher Martin.  He had trudged through the sand whilst the children were talking and loomed over the pair of them. A big man, Pincher was almost as huge as Carmen’s dad.  “I’ll give you a hand,” he rumbled. “His nibs is not a man to delay.”  Pincher nodded towards Winthrop-Smythe.

The children returned the gesture.  Between the two of them and two of the advance party, Martin and Dusty Miller, they dragged the bags up the beach to the edge of the forest, where a path had been recently cut through the light undergrowth.  The others had disappeared up the path already.  It took several trips, with Charlie and Carmen having to share a rucksack between the two of them each time.

“Do you want us to take them up there?” Charlie gasped, pointing up the path.

“Nah,” said Dusty.  “We’ll do that when everyone’s got off the plane.  Your dad will be wanting to take off again soon.  Can’t imagine he wants to stay in this poxy, god-forsaken sweat box!”

“It’s not that bad!” argued Charlie. 

“It’s not that great either!” said Pincher, laughing.

Their work done, the children said goodbye to the two cameramen and shuffled through the sand to the boat.  They pushed it back into the surf where Carmen started the motor again.  Buzzing into life the rubber boat surged forward and quickly made the distance back to the Catalina through the clear waters of the bay.  Once again, Charlie was entertained by marine life beneath a boat.  The bottom of the bay appeared so close that it seemed that all he had to do was to stretch out his arm into the water and he would be able to drag his fingertips through the sand on the sea bed.  He started when a dark familiar shadow sauntered across his field of vision and he snatched his hand in from the cool water, where it had been trailing.

“Shark!” he squeaked.

“Hm?” Carmen said distantly.

“Shark!” Charlie repeated and pointed over the side.

With an air of vague interest, Carmen looked over the side of the boat, “Oh that!  Take no notice of it.  That’s just a tiddler!  He won’t hurt you.  He’s just a zebra shark.  Just eats shellfish.” 

“Oh!” Charlie said sheepishly.

“That, on the other hand,” Carmen said matter of factly, pointing off to starboard.  “That is a much more dangerous beast!  Keep your hands in, Charlie!”

Charlie scrambled back from the gunwale of the rubber boat and sat in the bottom.  “Where?  What is it?” He asked anxiously.  It was then that he noticed Carmen laughing.

“Got you again, Chunder Charlie!” She giggled.

Carmen was saved from an outpouring of scorn from Charlie by their arrival at the Cat.  Rick was at the door ready to receive the line.  Charlie shuffled through the water that swirled in the bottom of the boat, grabbed the mooring line and threw it up to his father, who made it fast to the Catalina.

“You two took your time.  Carmen, stay here with your dad and give him a hand, will you?  Charlie, take a break and grab something to drink, you look a bit sick again.  I’ll take the rest of our passengers ashore, OK?”

Carmen sniggered as she went up the side of the Catalina, miming being sick over the side when she got to the top.  “Watch out below!”  she hooted and disappeared through the open door.

Charlie, angered and humiliated in front of his dad, pretty much flew up the side, determined to have it out with Carmen.  When he reached the door, his father rested a hand on his shoulder.

 “Take it easy, Charlie.  She’s playing with you!  She’s seeing if you can take a joke.  Carmen’s all right.  You don’t need to tell her what you’re thinking – she knows already,” Rick said. “If she didn’t think you were worth getting to know then she wouldn’t bother needling you.”

“Well she’s got a pretty funny way of going about making friends!”  Charlie said furiously.

“Yeah, she has at that.  No-one has ever said that she wasn’t kind of complicated.  I need you not to argue with her, Charlie.  Just get up to the cockpit and take a break.  You really do look a bit done in.”

Nodding sullenly, Charlie ducked into the cabin and carefully made his way through a hubbub of big TV people waiting to get into the rubber boat.  He climbed up into the pilot’s seat and watched the loading of the boat.

A few minutes later, George climbed down through the open dorsal hatch above Charlie’s head, saying, “Hi!” as he passed.  He called up the hatch and shouted for Carmen to pass something down to him.  A large piece of oily machinery was passed down by two thin brown arms and George took it over to the old navigator’s table behind the pilots’ seats.

“What’s that, George?”  Charlie said curiously.

“That, Charlie, is a bucket of trouble.” George shook his head. “It’s a cylinder head for one of the engines.  It’s been playing up for a while and it must have blown a gasket because all sorts of nasty things were happening to that engine on final approach.”

Horrified Charlie stammered, “W…were we in danger of crashing?”

George laughed.  A good natured, fruity laugh rumbled out that made Charlie grin despite his worry. “No, Charlie, there’s fourteen cylinders on this engine and the old bird can fly on one engine.  However, it makes it a lot easier to fly if one of the engines isn’t about to seize up on you.  So I’ve gotta fix it before we fly again.  I always carry some spares for engines like these.  After all, they’re pretty old.” 

“Does Carmen always help you?  On the engines, I mean.” 

“Oh yeah, when she’s home she’s always gettin’ underfoot.”  George turned the cylinder head over on the table and began scraping at something sticky on one side of it.  “She’s helping me rebuild one of these so that we have a spare engine in reserve back at the hangar.”

“Can I do anything to help?” Charlie asked.

“You know, Charlie, that’s nice of you to ask but I’m not sure I’ve got anything for you to do with the engine right now,” George explained but added, when he saw Charlie’s face fall, “Mind you, I do need another pair of hands on the rebuild at the hanger.  Do you want to help with that sometime?”
 

“Yes please!” Charlie said excitedly.

“Well, OK then. We’ll sort that out when we get back.  Right now, you could tidy up after that noisy lot.”  George gestured vaguely at Solitude, indicating the shore party, “And then you and Carmen can get the Catalina sorted out for the night.  Looks like we’re staying over since this will take a few hours to fix and Rick, your dad I mean, doesn’t like to take off at night from the sea.”

Charlie’s face fell at that but it turned out that working with Carmen wasn’t quite as bad as he thought it would be.  She behaved herself and simply explained what needed to be done quickly.  They cleaned up the interior of the cabin, picking up litter and stowing seats into their upright positions, unlocked folding bunks from the side of the fuselage, and unpacked some blankets. Carmen dragged out some cardboard boxes from a chest and took out a selection of foil wrapped packs.

“Dinner,” she said.  “Looks like it’s chilli tonight!  I don’t think your dad ever has anything else in store.”

By the time that they had finished, Rick had returned to the Cat.  He swarmed up the side into the cabin with the mooring line in one hand.  Securing the rubber boat, he shouted a hearty hello to everyone then sat down on a bunk.

“That man!”  he began.  George sauntered in to the cabin from the cockpit, ducking beneath the bulkhead to listen.  “He is one of the most peculiar men I think I’ve ever met!  Sometimes he’s all charm, sometimes he’s cold as ice. He’s real oddball!”

Later on, after Rick had finished complaining about their client and gone to help George reassemble the engine, they all sat down to eat the pre-packed chili that Carmen had found, along with a pack of saltine crackers.  They all sat on the deck of the cabin with the exception of Carmen, who perched high above them in the old observer’s seat that was set up high in the wing support.  Although it was only around eight in the evening, it had already gone dark.  The cabin lights were on but they only provided a soft yellow glow in the interior. As for Carmen, she was pretty much sitting in darkness.  Rather disconcertingly, only her feet and lower legs were in the light and these swung above their heads, almost as if they were disconnected from the rest of her body.

“It wouldn’t have hurt to be a little more accommodating,” Rick said.

“Are you going to start up again?” George warned. “There’s nothing you could do to change the man’s mind and he didn’t want you there complicating his life.”

“Yeah, but it’s hardly complicated letting the children play on the beach whilst we sorted out the repairs!” Rick argued.  “It’s not as if they’re really going to get a huge amount done on their first day anyway.  Are they really gonna get some good footage of the beach when they’ve been travelling all this time?”

“But the man said that was what they wanted to do, so you just have to accept it.  You forget that they’ve probably already unpacked their equipment.  I expect that they’ve been filming since we left yesterday,” George reasoned.  “So what if Winthrop-Smythe’s a jerk!  We’ve worked for TV people before and if the money’s good then what do we really have to complain about?”  He belched loudly and smiled happily, calling up to Carmen, “Anymore of that chilli, sweetie?”

“Three packs are plenty enough for you, Big Daddy!”  she retorted.  “It’s time you lost a bit of that spare tyre round your middle!”

George’s face fell at this and he looked down sadly at his belly.  “I don’t know what that girl is talking about.  She’s been on my case since she got back from her Auntie’s.  These Australians are filling her head with all sorts of nonsense about exercise and healthy things.  If she had her way I’d fade away to nothing!”  he said vehemently.

“George,” Rick said, speaking like some great actor reciting from the stage, “They used to call you Big George because you were as tall as a tree and as mighty as a lion.”  He winked at Charlie and smiled cheekily, “Now they call you Big George because you can’t get your butt in the pilot’s seat!”

George roared and lunged at Rick, “I am gonna dunk you in the sea little man!  You’re no midget yourself.”  He pulled Rick into a headlock, who was completely unable to resist since he was almost prostrate, laughing at his own joke.

“No, no!” he said weakly in between fits of giggling.

“We’ll see who has a big butt now, little American man! That’s if we can get it through the door!” George stood up, towering over the children, who were snorting with laughter.

“Throw him in, Dad!”  Carmen yelled.

“Throw her in, Charlie!  Defend your old man!” Rick ordered.

Charlie took one look at the disembodied legs swinging backwards and forwards and imagined what kind of creature he would find attached to them should he attempt to carry out his dad’s instructions.  Best not to.

With a despairing shriek from Rick and a triumphant cry from George, the American was manhandled to the open door and launched into the darkness.  A moment later they all heard him hit the sea with a loud splash.

“Now that was some belly flop!”  George said from the doorway. “That boy is going to be sore in the morning!”

Rick climbed into the cabin and stood there dripping.  His shorts and shirt clung wetly to him whilst his hair was plastered to his head.  “You jerk!” he shouted then ran at them shaking himself like a dog, spraying seawater over them all, only making them all laugh the harder.

Eventually, they calmed down.  Everyone was a bit too hot and damp.  Carmen was sniggering quietly in the darkness up above.  Charlie nursed a bruised shin from where he’d tripped on something in the dim light.  George was soaked through from the bear hug that Rick had insisted on giving him in the melee.  Rick sat on the floor, cross legged and grinning inanely like a leprechaun on his holidays to Hawaii.

“Well that was fun!” he said.

From outside, across the bay, and into the forest above the shore, came the sudden staccato report of three short sharp cracks.  Each gunshot sounded clear and distinct in the quiet of the night.

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