Coincidence Part 1

COINCIDENCE.

by ALAN MAY.

PREFACE.

Writing a book had been in my mind for more than thirty years, but I was never able to come up with a viable topic. It was when my daughter Karen sailed around the world on the Concordia Concordia as her grade eleven year of high school, through the Cla.s.s Afloat program, that the topic became obvious. as her grade eleven year of high school, through the Cla.s.s Afloat program, that the topic became obvious.

"How was the cruise?" many of Karen's friends inquired of her upon her return, but her year away was far from a cruise. In fact, it was a lot of work. She and her cla.s.smates were required to help maintain and sail the s.h.i.+p while keeping up with a normal amount of school work. It was tough on her to get up in the middle of the night to do her two-hour watch, as it was when she and the entire crew were called on deck at night to perform sail changes. Not to mention was.h.i.+ng dishes and cleaning the mess and galley, tasks routinely required of her and her fellow students.

Initially this book was a record of Karen's travel, to provide insight into what was required of students aboard the s.h.i.+p. As I wrote the ma.n.u.script, however, it evolved into a novel. Although Coincidence Coincidence is fiction, much of the story line was inspired by what happened that year, including the process of finding out about the program, the interview, and the romance. Names have been changed, including those of professional crew members. The names is fiction, much of the story line was inspired by what happened that year, including the process of finding out about the program, the interview, and the romance. Names have been changed, including those of professional crew members. The names Inspiration Inspiration and Blue Water Academy are fictional. To paraphrase Joseph h.e.l.ler, from his book and Blue Water Academy are fictional. To paraphrase Joseph h.e.l.ler, from his book No Laughing Matter No Laughing Matter, everything in the book is true except that which is not.

Obviously the drug-running part of the story is totally fictional, but a medical emergency at sea did happen.

Karen, my son Ryan, and I have sailed onboard the Concordia Concordia and have a great love for the s.h.i.+p. The and have a great love for the s.h.i.+p. The Concordia Concordia actually sank in a storm in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Brazil in February 2010. There was no loss of life, which is a testament to the continual training that was a normal part of life aboard s.h.i.+p. Some of that training is outlined in this book. I am pleased to say that a new s.h.i.+p has been obtained and the program continues. actually sank in a storm in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Brazil in February 2010. There was no loss of life, which is a testament to the continual training that was a normal part of life aboard s.h.i.+p. Some of that training is outlined in this book. I am pleased to say that a new s.h.i.+p has been obtained and the program continues.

I am also pleased to say, as I look back on it all, that my daughter's adventure set me on an adventure of my own: writing this book, as well as a sequel, which will cover the rest of the first semester voyage from Easter Island through the South Pacific to Bali, Indonesia.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.

Agreat deal of thanks must go out to Terry Davies, the owner of the Concordia Concordia and the Cla.s.s Afloat program, whose guidance and direction brought clarity and insight to this novel. Early in his life Terry had a vision of high school cla.s.ses on the sea, an educational model which he developed in his master's degree thesis. He put his model into practice when he established the West Island College in Montreal and Calgary, and Cla.s.s Afloat, which operated out of Montreal. and the Cla.s.s Afloat program, whose guidance and direction brought clarity and insight to this novel. Early in his life Terry had a vision of high school cla.s.ses on the sea, an educational model which he developed in his master's degree thesis. He put his model into practice when he established the West Island College in Montreal and Calgary, and Cla.s.s Afloat, which operated out of Montreal.

A number of other people provided invaluable a.s.sistance during the writing of Coincidence Coincidence: Carolyn Currie, who did a magnificent job of editing the original ma.n.u.script. Because this is my first book, I needed a lot of direction from Carolyn; I hope she will work with me again on future books. And Donald G. Bastian for his editing and publis.h.i.+ng a.s.sistance.

Brian McClure and Jan Campbell, both teachers, who provided their respective opinions on the differences between the private and public education systems.

Andrew Baldwin, an onboard teacher who provided insight into the challenges teachers face when exposed to students twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

My daughter Karen, son Ryan, and Francois Ares, all of whom sailed aboard the Concordia Concordia and who provided knowledge of everyday life aboard an educational tall s.h.i.+p, as did Roger Nugent, the bosun of the s.h.i.+p. and who provided knowledge of everyday life aboard an educational tall s.h.i.+p, as did Roger Nugent, the bosun of the s.h.i.+p.

Andrzej Straburzynski, Captain of the Concordia Concordia, who was forever concerned about the safety of his precious cargo, his students.

Wojciech Wacowski, doctor and second mate aboard the Concordia Concordia, and Dr. Bryan Thomas, both of whom provided medical input, helping me with my descriptions of the injuries suffered by the characters in the novel.

And finally, four particularly helpful books: Dawn to Dusk in the Galapagos Dawn to Dusk in the Galapagos by Rita Gelman and Tui De Roy (Boston: Little Brown, 1991); by Rita Gelman and Tui De Roy (Boston: Little Brown, 1991); Galapagos: A Natural History Galapagos: A Natural History by John Kricher (Was.h.i.+ngton, DC: Smithsonian Natural History Series, 2002); by John Kricher (Was.h.i.+ngton, DC: Smithsonian Natural History Series, 2002); Galapagos: Island Lost in Time Galapagos: Island Lost in Time by Tui De Roy (Moore, NY: Penguin, 1980); and by Tui De Roy (Moore, NY: Penguin, 1980); and Galapagos: Islands of Change Galapagos: Islands of Change by Lynne Myers and Christopher Myers (New York: Hyperion Books for Children, 1995). by Lynne Myers and Christopher Myers (New York: Hyperion Books for Children, 1995).

1.

Melissa came bouncing through the door on one of those highs she was famous for. She was overflowing with energy and bursting at the seams to tell someone, anyone, about the terrific movie she and her friends had just seen.

As with most teenaged girls, movie going on the weekend was a big part of Melissa's life. She would have preferred to go with her boyfriend rather than with other girls, but, alas, she didn't have one. That, of course, was the fault of her parents for making her attend a private girls' school rather than a coed school. She was not happy with this aspect of her education. She doubted her parents' view that one day she would look back on her school years and be thankful for the sound education the private system provided, in spite of the absence of boys.

The movie that night had been White Squall White Squall, the tragic and true tale of an old eighty-foot tall s.h.i.+p called the Albatross Albatross that had sailed around the world in the early sixties. The crew of the that had sailed around the world in the early sixties. The crew of the Albatross Albatross is a group of students-all of them boys; perhaps this accounted for part of Melissa's interest-completing their final year of high school aboard a working s.h.i.+p. They are exposed to discipline, sail training, and hard work in conditions that were often far from ideal. The owner/captain of the s.h.i.+p is the school's director; he and his wife and one additional teacher teach all the cla.s.ses...o...b..ard. A cook and a bosun round out the crew. The students, who come from backgrounds ranging from middle cla.s.s to filthy rich, are partic.i.p.ating in this program for a variety of reasons: to gain sailing experience, to follow in family footsteps, to learn discipline, to overcome a family tragedy. In the case of one family, the parents want their son as far away from home as they can get him. is a group of students-all of them boys; perhaps this accounted for part of Melissa's interest-completing their final year of high school aboard a working s.h.i.+p. They are exposed to discipline, sail training, and hard work in conditions that were often far from ideal. The owner/captain of the s.h.i.+p is the school's director; he and his wife and one additional teacher teach all the cla.s.ses...o...b..ard. A cook and a bosun round out the crew. The students, who come from backgrounds ranging from middle cla.s.s to filthy rich, are partic.i.p.ating in this program for a variety of reasons: to gain sailing experience, to follow in family footsteps, to learn discipline, to overcome a family tragedy. In the case of one family, the parents want their son as far away from home as they can get him.

This a.s.sorted group is thrown together as a "family" forced to work out their problems and difficulties in a tough environment. Sailing such a s.h.i.+p is not easy. It requires day and night watch and maintenance, together with cla.s.ses, studying, cleaning, and cook-ing-and all of this on very little sleep.

And then, at the end of the film, in spite of valorous attempts by the young crewmen, the s.h.i.+p sinks.

Even in the face of this heart-rending ending, Melissa fell in love with the thought of going on such an adventure. At seventeen, midway through grade twelve, she was ready to conquer the world. She had good marks at school and had been chosen house captain, cla.s.s president, and prefect. She was tall-nearly six feet-and keenly athletic, excelling in every sport she attempted, with the exception of badminton and tennis, games in which she had a lot of power but not enough finesse.

And she was a sailor. Sailing had always been part of her life. As a scrawny, crop-haired six-year-old she had spent a winter with her family on a thirty-foot sailboat gunk-holing from island to island in the Bahamas. They had returned through the Intracoastal Waterway to her home in Pickering, Ontario, some two thousand miles away. The only thing she could remember about the trip was standing on an upside-down pail to steer the boat, and calling herself the captain.

She had taken sailing lessons at the local yacht club and by grade eleven had attained the second-highest racing level possible, the silver. She had been reasonably successful in many regattas, including the National Youth Champions.h.i.+ps, sailing a singlehanded thirteen-foot Laser Radial sailboat. She'd be a natural in a program like the one portrayed in the movie; she was sure of it.

The next morning she phoned her friend Stephanie to tell her all about White Squall White Squall. Wouldn't it be just super if they could spend a year of high school sailing on a s.h.i.+p like that?

But Stephanie's reaction was lukewarm at best. She had a friend, Johanna, who had taken a similar trip just two years earlier, sailing around the world while completing grade twelve. Stephanie had not found her description of the trip appealing. As far as she was concerned, the final year of school was difficult enough already, what with maintaining your grades and applying to university. Why would anyone want to add the extra pressure of crewing an old-fas.h.i.+oned sailing s.h.i.+p? Did Melissa even understand how much work that was?

But Melissa was undeterred. She got Johanna's phone number and called that afternoon, only to find that she was away at university. She was disappointed that she couldn't pump Johanna for information right that minute. She did manage to get the phone number for the program Johanna had attended-the Blue Water Academy in Montreal. But by then she was thwarted again. It was Sunday and no one answered the phone.

For the rest of the day Melissa could think and talk about nothing else. Phoning Stephanie again, she gleaned just enough information to further fuel her enthusiasm. Johanna's cla.s.s had started their voyage on the east coast at Halifax, going on to cross the Atlantic, cruise the Mediterranean, and then head down through the Red Sea and across the Indian Ocean, stopping in Australia, then crossing the South Pacific to Hawaii, ending in Victoria on Vancouver Island.

The thought of it all boggled Melissa's mind. This called for more investigation.

2.

The investigation, as it turned out, was her father's responsibility. As Melissa got out of the car at the school the next day, she threw her backpack over her shoulder and reminded him one last time.

"Dad, please, please, please don't forget to phone Blue Water Academy."

Saying no to his exuberant daughter was not one of Craig Jordan's talents. The young-sounding woman who answered his call once he got into the office explained that the program was for grade eleven and twelve students who would continue their education while sailing to different parts of the world on a large s.h.i.+p that they would crew. She agreed to fax a copy of the brochure to him immediately and to put an application package in the mail.

"Well?" Melissa demanded the moment she entered the car when he came by for her after school.

She couldn't wait to get home and see the brochure. She read it from cover to cover again and again, from the Mission Statement ("drawing upon the social dynamics of life and work in the microcosm of a sailing s.h.i.+p and first-hand explorations in the macrocosm of the planet, Blue Water Academy students forge new standards in leaders.h.i.+p, personal development, and academic excellence") to the Itinerary ("we have trekked across glaciers in Greenland, scaled volcanoes in Hawaii, visited with the descendants of the Bounty Bounty on Pitcairn Island, hiked in Patagonia, explored Easter Island, slept in caves beneath the Moa, camped in the Serengeti, and explored the ruins of Mount Olympus"). Her excitement grew with every word. on Pitcairn Island, hiked in Patagonia, explored Easter Island, slept in caves beneath the Moa, camped in the Serengeti, and explored the ruins of Mount Olympus"). Her excitement grew with every word.

She didn't even need to read about the s.h.i.+p (the "magnificent" Inspiration Inspiration) or the academic program (which might include an African safari or "engaging in political discussions with a Saudi Arabian Prince") to know she wanted to go. It would be just what it said in the brochure: a "Pa.s.sport to Education."

Two days later, the application materials arrived. Melissa filled out the forms using her very best penmans.h.i.+p. She practiced writing the answers on scratch paper before deciding on which one to use. Craig and Carol, dumbfounded by the speed at which their daughter's whim was becoming reality, proofed her final edition. Melissa hand-delivered the package, along with a deposit, to the FedEx office, sending it priority mail for arrival the next day.

Then there were the reference forms. Who could she possibly ask to vouch for her? She needed two adults who knew her well and who could be counted on to write glowingly of her accomplishments and character. Well, the first was a no-brainer: Uncle Jack. He was an honorary uncle only, being no relation at all. He was her father's oldest friend. Nor, for that matter, was Jack his name, but he greatly preferred it to the one his parents had saddled him with: Bertram.

Jack and Craig had been steadfast friends all through school and university. Jack had introduced Craig to Carol and had served as best man at their wedding. He had been a regular fixture about the Jordan house for as long as Melissa could remember. He spent every Christmas with the family, bringing Melissa and her brother, Eric, exotic presents from his travels abroad, always wrapped in maddening layers of paper and tape. And every summer he joined them for a week-two if he could manage it-sailing. Who better to tell the Blue Water Academy administrators about her capabilities with a boat?

The second reference should be from a teacher, she decided. But which one? She got along fine with teachers as a rule, but which one knew her enough to say relevant things about her qualifications for sailing around the world with Blue Water Academy? And, come to that, which of the subjects she was studying at school was was relevant? She had no idea. relevant? She had no idea.

After a lengthy debate with herself, she chose Mrs. Taylor, her drama teacher. She, as director of the three school productions Melissa had performed in, knew best how she maintained her cool under stress, in spite of long rehearsals and opening-night nerves. Surely that indicated her fitness for the BWA program.

Now all she had to do was ask. She took the same approach with both of them, in person to Mrs. Taylor and in an email to Uncle Jack: "I want to do this so much! Of course I wouldn't ask you to say anything that isn't true-but please try to make me sound good!"

With all of the forms taken care of, there was nothing to do but wait and see. This was the hard part. Waiting and seeing was not Melissa's strong point. It was all she could do to keep her mind on her upcoming midterms. Everything paled in comparison with the adventure that lay ahead. Or that she hoped lay ahead.

A week and a half later, just as she and her family were sitting down to dinner, the phone rang.

"It's Montreal," Eric said, glancing at the Caller ID screen.

Melissa froze, a forkful of spaghetti, her favorite, on its way to her mouth. She sat, staring, until her father picked up the receiver and handed it to her.

"Melissa? h.e.l.lo, it's Kathleen Tutty from Blue Water Academy," a young woman's voice said. "I'm going to be in Toronto next week holding interviews with students interested in our program. I was wondering if we could schedule a time for you and your parents to come."

Melissa responded calmly but was grinning like a Ches.h.i.+re cat and nodding wildly as she scribbled down the date and time of the interview. Mrs. Taylor would have been proud of her.

After the call, Melissa walked over to the family's monthly calendar of activities posted on the refrigerator. On the square for the following Thursday, she drew three big stars, then wrote: 11:30 A.M A.M. BWA Interview.

The interview! Alarm at the thought suddenly registered on Melissa's face. Carol could see what was coming. She moved in quickly, putting her arms around her daughter to ward off panic.

"Mel. You're a bright, intelligent young woman. You are poised and self-confident-at least on the outside-and good with people. You'll be just fine. You have nothing to worry about."

Melissa knew she was right. Not a day had gone by that she hadn't looked at the brochure. She had all of the qualifications-of course she did. There was absolutely no need to worry.

So why couldn't she stop worrying?

3.

The drive from Pickering to Toronto seemed endless. Melissa twisted the ends of her long dark hair into ever-tighter spirals as she gazed out the window at the traffic. She knew, absolutely, that Blue Water Academy was perfect for her and that she was perfect for the program.

But-but what if she fumbled the interview? She had no idea what questions might be thrown at her. What if she made a fool of herself? What if Kathleen saw her as a babbling schoolgirl and not as the resourceful, calm-under-pressure, competent sailor she was inside? And why did they need an interview anyway? Weren't her grades and her physical fitness and her sailing experience enough?

Well, maybe not, she had to admit to herself. The selection process had to be demanding to safeguard those accepted, and good social skills would have to be high on the list of criteria. Just imagine being stuck on a small s.h.i.+p with people you couldn't communicate with!

The only other person in the waiting room was a man who sat reading the newspaper. He seemed too old to be a student. Maybe he was a teacher looking for a job with the academy-or maybe he was just a client of the accounting office where the interviews were being held. After about a ten-minute wait, during which Melissa concentrated on keeping her fidgeting under control, she and her parents were called in.

Kathleen Tutty was as young as she had sounded on the phone. She was an attractive blonde, about twenty-eight years of age, and a Blue Water Academy student herself ten years earlier. Her first job after university was teaching on the Inspiration Inspiration. Promotion to s.h.i.+pboard director and then program director followed.

Kathleen's smile put everyone at ease. She began by showing a twenty-minute video of life aboard the Inspiration Inspiration, which clearly outlined the heavy workload the student crew could expect: Breakfast at seven-thirty sharp; colors, where all meet to review the planned activities for the day, at eight; followed by cla.s.ses, maintenance work on the s.h.i.+p, lunch, more cla.s.ses, more work, maybe a little free time if you were lucky, dinner, still more cla.s.ses, some type of evening program, free time, bed, and night watch. Most crew members slept during free time because their night's sleep was interrupted by the two-hour night watch. And any time sailing conditions changed and sails had to be set or doused, the crew had to drop whatever they were doing, because "all hands on deck" were required.

Melissa realized that her experience sailing a small craft for pleasure was nothing like this.

"What do you look for in a student?" she asked.

"We are looking for a good all-round individual," Kathleen said. "Not a super scholar, necessarily, nor an exceptional athlete; but rather someone who has demonstrated an ability to work hard and who can get along well with others. Those are by far the most important attributes for the program. In short, we want a well-balanced person."

"Do most of the kids already have sailing experience?" Craig asked.

Like his daughter, Craig had quickly grasped the difference between being a savvy leisure-time sailor and crewing a working s.h.i.+p the size of the Inspiration Inspiration.

"Most have none, and in any case they all have to be trained together on the barquentine rig. That's a three-masted boat with a square-rigged forward mast."

"How many students are there on the s.h.i.+p?" Carol asked.

"The s.h.i.+p has a capacity of forty-nine, but we don't usually have a full complement."

"What is the ratio of boys to girls?"

This was from Melissa.

"The ratio fluctuates, but generally there are more boys."

Melissa's face brightened.

Craig hated to be the one to ask it, but someone had to. "How do you handle a problem with a student when you are so far from home?"

"It depends on the incident. Generally, problems are few, but disciplinary action ranges from cancellation of sh.o.r.e leave to being sent home for a week or so, and even, as a last resort, to being expelled from the program. Each of these has happened, although very seldom."

After many more questions and answers from both sides, Kathleen asked Melissa's parents to leave the room so she could speak directly to Melissa.

It was now Kathleen's turn to ask the questions.

"Why are you thinking that you'd like to be part of the Blue Water Academy experience?" Kathleen's warm manner had vanquished Melissa's initial anxiety. She was finding it easy to follow her parents' advice to be herself and answer the questions openly.

"It's something out of the ordinary," she said. "Sailing around the world and studying at the same time is a chance of a lifetime for anyone lucky enough to be selected. Seeing the world is something I've always dreamed of doing."

For her part, Kathleen saw in Melissa something of herself at the same age: a bright and eager young woman whose enthusiasm and determination would get her through any rough patches. She turned to some practical issues-some questions that the academy required her to ask, even though she was confident that, in this case, they were not necessary.

"Have you ever been drunk or tried drugs?"

"No and no, although my parents let me have some wine with dinner on special occasions."

"You know from the brochure that Blue Water Academy has a strict no-alcohol, no-drugs policy. What would you do if you observed a student who was impaired by either?"

"I'd probably help get them to bed so they'd be out of harm's way. If I thought they were a danger to the s.h.i.+p or to anybody else, or even to themselves, I guess I'd report them to a teacher."