A bit of background:
Palau is an island nation in the Pacific Ocean, about 500 miles east of the Philippines and 2,000 miles south of Tokyo.
Palau was initially settled between 3,000 years and 4,500 years ago, probably by migrants from the Philippines. The modern population, judging by its language, may have come from the Sunda Islands.
British traders became prominent visitors in the 18th century, followed by expanding Spanish influence in the 19th century. After its defeat in the Spanish-American War, Spain sold Palau and most of the rest of the Caroline Islands to Germany in 1899. Control passed to Japan in 1914 and during World War II the islands were taken by the United States in 1944, with the Battle of Peleliu between September 15 and November 25 with more than 2,000 Americans and 10,000 Japanese killed. The islands passed formally to the United States under United Nations auspices in 1947 as part of the Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands.
Four of the Trust Territory districts formed a single federated Micronesian state in 1979, but the districts of Palau and the Marshall Islands declined to participate. Palau, the westernmost cluster of the Caroline Islands, instead opted for independent status in 1978, approved a new constitution and became the Republic of Palau in 1981, and signed a Compact of Free Association with the United States in 1982. After eight referendums and an amendment to the Palauan constitution, the Compact was ratified in 1993 and went into effect on October 1, 1994, marking Palau independent de jure (after Palau was independent de facto since May 25, 1994, when the trusteeship cancelled).
Palau's most populous islands are Angaur, Babeldaob, Koror, and Peleliu. The latter three lie together within the same barrier reef, while Angaur is an oceanic island several miles to the south. About two-thirds of the population live on Koror. The coral atoll of Kayangel is situated north of these islands, while the uninhabited Rock Islands (about 200) are situated to the west of the main island group. A remote group of six islands, known as the Southwest Islands, some 375 miles from the main islands, are also part of the country and make up the states of Hatohobei and Sonsorol.
Palau's natural environment remains free of environmental degradation, but there are several areas of concern, including illegal fishing with the use of dynamite, inadequate facilities for disposal of solid waste in Koror, and extensive sand and coral dredging in the Palau lagoon.
Like the other Pacific island nations, a potential major environmental threat is rising sea levels. Water coverage of low-lying areas is a threat to coastal vegetation, agriculture, and the purity of the nation's water supply. Palau also has a problem with inadequate water supply and limited agricultural areas to support the size of the population. The nation is also vulnerable to earthquakes, volcanic activity, and tropical storms. Sewage treatment is a problem, along with the handling of toxic waste from fertilizers and biocides.
On November 5, 2005, President of Palau, Tommy E. Remengesau, Jr. took the lead on a regional environmental initiative called the Micronesia challenge, which would conserve 30% of near shore coastal waters and 20% of forest land by 2020. In addition to Palau, the initiative was joined by the Federated States of Micronesia and Marshall Islands, and the U.S. territories of Guam and Northern Mariana Islands. Together, this combined region represents nearly 5% of the marine area of the Pacific Ocean and 7% of its coastlines.
On September 25, 2009, Palau announced that it would create the world's first "shark sanctuary". Palau has banned all commercial shark fishing within its EEZ waters. The sanctuary protects about 230,000 sq mi of ocean, a similar size to the country of France.
Saltwater crocodiles are also residents of Palau and occur in varying numbers throughout the various mangroves and even in parts of the beautiful rock islands. Although this species is generally considered extremely dangerous, there has only been one fatal human attack in Palau within modern history, and that was in the 1960s. In Palau the largest crocodile measured in at 15 feet.
Palau’s economy consists primarily of tourism, subsistence agriculture, and fishing. Tourist activity focuses on scuba diving and snorkeling in the islands' rich marine environment, including its barrier reefs walls and World War II wrecks. The government is the major employer of the work force, relying heavily on financial assistance from the US. The population enjoys a per capita income twice that of much of Micronesia. Long-term prospects for the key tourist sector have been greatly bolstered by the expansion of air travel in the Pacific, the rising prosperity of leading East Asian countries, and the willingness of foreigners to finance infrastructure development.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Amanda and the Emails
Palau is located on the opposite side of the world from Bimini. Bimini is located just off the coast of Florida, Palau just off the coast of the Philippines, in a different ocean entirely.
In order to sail from Bimini to Palau, the Scylla and Charybis would have had to sail south west, between the islsands of Cuba and Hispaniola (on which are the countries of Haiti and the Dominican Republic) past Jamaica, and into the Caribbean Sea. It was necessary to go to the Panama Canal, and once through, continuing toward the west onward and onward across the Pacific Ocean, past the Marshall Islands and Micronesia, and finally to Palau, just off the coast of the Philippines, and a little less than two thousand miles south of Japan.
Amanda had misspoke when she told Cheryl that she and her two sisters were going to sail to Palau on the Scylla and Charybdis. Oh, he [the Sutton sisters referred to all their craft as males) could have made the trip all right, the Scylla was an ocean going vessel, but it would have taken too long.
On Sunday, therefore, the three sisters found themselves in the business class section of a craft headed for Hawaii, from which they would connect to Japan and then to Palau. Robert Wade was accompanying them.
Wade and Chelsea spent the time talking scuba – Wade asked her how many sites at which she had dived, and to describe them to her. Stacy had brought her laptop and was busy working on a story.
Amanda had her own laptop, and after playing a few games of Galaga, decided to check her email.
Email: Cheyl Kazkowski to Amanda Sutton
Hi, Amanda
Hope you don’t mind, but I gave Teague your email. He’d called me up yesterday and asked me for it. I gave it to him… and I also explained to him about the first time you two had met, and the fact that you hadn’t actually been late. He didn’t say much, just said thanks and hung up.
So…expect an email from him.
Email: Amanda Sutton to Cheryl Kazkowski
Hi, Cheryl
No problems re the email. I’m surprised he’s bothering, but I guess he’s not as much of a jerk as I thought him.
Amanda scanned through her emails…several from oceanographic organizations, a few from friends…nothing from Teague.
She shrugged…she really hadn’t wanted to hear from him anyway.
She clicked through each of her emails, reading them one at a time, then clicked back out to the main page. And there, at the very top, was an email from Teague.
Email: Patrick Teague to Amanda Sutton
Dear Ms. Sutton
I wanted to email you and apologize for the awkwardness of our first meeting. I confess I have a certain obsession about punctuality, as you no doubt realized.
I also wanted to thank you for your help with the swim meet. The children certainly liked you and your help was invaluable.
I heard you were on your way to Palau. I envy you your opportunity to dive there, as it has always been a dream vacation for me.
Safe diving.
Best wishes,
Teague
Amanda contemplated this message for a while. Well. Maybe he wasn't such a jerk after all. Jerks didn't apologize for their jerkiness. Didn't even realize they were jerks.
Email: Amanda Sutton to Patrick Teague
Dear Teague,
Thanks for your email. No apology necessary. It was just a misunderstanding.
I really enjoyed the swim meet and the kids. I’ve worked with special needs kids for a couple of years and always enjoyed their enthusiasm.
I also have long wanted to dive on Palau. I will send you a few photos, just to make you jealous!
Amanda
She re-read the message. Should she really offer to send him some photos? Well, hell, why not. If he wasn’t interested he wasn’t interested. She’d send them anyway.
She clicked the send button.
Then, she pulled out her Kindle and began to read Diving Palau. But as she did so, her thoughts occasionally drifted toward the tallness and handsomeness of Patrick Teague.
In order to sail from Bimini to Palau, the Scylla and Charybis would have had to sail south west, between the islsands of Cuba and Hispaniola (on which are the countries of Haiti and the Dominican Republic) past Jamaica, and into the Caribbean Sea. It was necessary to go to the Panama Canal, and once through, continuing toward the west onward and onward across the Pacific Ocean, past the Marshall Islands and Micronesia, and finally to Palau, just off the coast of the Philippines, and a little less than two thousand miles south of Japan.
Amanda had misspoke when she told Cheryl that she and her two sisters were going to sail to Palau on the Scylla and Charybdis. Oh, he [the Sutton sisters referred to all their craft as males) could have made the trip all right, the Scylla was an ocean going vessel, but it would have taken too long.
On Sunday, therefore, the three sisters found themselves in the business class section of a craft headed for Hawaii, from which they would connect to Japan and then to Palau. Robert Wade was accompanying them.
Wade and Chelsea spent the time talking scuba – Wade asked her how many sites at which she had dived, and to describe them to her. Stacy had brought her laptop and was busy working on a story.
Amanda had her own laptop, and after playing a few games of Galaga, decided to check her email.
Email: Cheyl Kazkowski to Amanda Sutton
Hi, Amanda
Hope you don’t mind, but I gave Teague your email. He’d called me up yesterday and asked me for it. I gave it to him… and I also explained to him about the first time you two had met, and the fact that you hadn’t actually been late. He didn’t say much, just said thanks and hung up.
So…expect an email from him.
Email: Amanda Sutton to Cheryl Kazkowski
Hi, Cheryl
No problems re the email. I’m surprised he’s bothering, but I guess he’s not as much of a jerk as I thought him.
Amanda scanned through her emails…several from oceanographic organizations, a few from friends…nothing from Teague.
She shrugged…she really hadn’t wanted to hear from him anyway.
She clicked through each of her emails, reading them one at a time, then clicked back out to the main page. And there, at the very top, was an email from Teague.
Email: Patrick Teague to Amanda Sutton
Dear Ms. Sutton
I wanted to email you and apologize for the awkwardness of our first meeting. I confess I have a certain obsession about punctuality, as you no doubt realized.
I also wanted to thank you for your help with the swim meet. The children certainly liked you and your help was invaluable.
I heard you were on your way to Palau. I envy you your opportunity to dive there, as it has always been a dream vacation for me.
Safe diving.
Best wishes,
Teague
Amanda contemplated this message for a while. Well. Maybe he wasn't such a jerk after all. Jerks didn't apologize for their jerkiness. Didn't even realize they were jerks.
Email: Amanda Sutton to Patrick Teague
Dear Teague,
Thanks for your email. No apology necessary. It was just a misunderstanding.
I really enjoyed the swim meet and the kids. I’ve worked with special needs kids for a couple of years and always enjoyed their enthusiasm.
I also have long wanted to dive on Palau. I will send you a few photos, just to make you jealous!
Amanda
She re-read the message. Should she really offer to send him some photos? Well, hell, why not. If he wasn’t interested he wasn’t interested. She’d send them anyway.
She clicked the send button.
Then, she pulled out her Kindle and began to read Diving Palau. But as she did so, her thoughts occasionally drifted toward the tallness and handsomeness of Patrick Teague.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Amanda and the High Dive
It was Friday, and the Swimming tournament had ended in the early afternoon. After the awarding of the medals, the swim teams, their coaches, their families and the rest of the volunteers went to a local restaurant for a celebratory ice cream.
Amanda sat at a table with a group of children and listened attentively, to them as they talked excitedly about their feats during the previous week…meanwhile making inroads on a Large Hot Fudge Brownie Sundae.
After the swimming teams and their families left, the coaches and volunteers remained behind. Amanda ordered another hot fudge sundae – the small size this time – and took it over to her friend Cheryl Kazkowski’s’s table, despite the fact that Cheryl was sitting at a table with Teague, the tournament director with whom she’d had that run-in her first day, and who had snubbed her the next day at the coffee shop.
“Hi, Cheryl,” she said in a low voice. “I’m about to take off.”
“Amanda, thanks for all your help this week,” Cheryl replied, in an equally low voice.
“It was fun. Thanks for asking me.”
“Are you headed back to Bimini?”
“No, I’m off to Palau. We’ve got a pretty exciting gig there.”
“Oh, what’s happening?”
“Well, you know that the waters around Palau are chock full of sunken ships and planes from World War II, right?”
Cheryl laughed. “I know it now.”
“Well, it’s always been a wreck diver’s paradise. And of course every year there’s more and more scuba divers, and a lot of ‘em don’t follow the scuba diver’s code – they dive into these wrecks and they steal things from them. Some of the wrecks are degrading rapidly.”
“That’s terrible,” said Cheryl. She might not know anything about Palau but she knew scuba divers, like tourists to any other location, were never supposed to take souvenirs away from the sites they visited.
“Yes,” nodded Amanda. “But there’s no way to stop it short of forbidding scuba divers there, and posting guards underwater to prevent the thefts – and that’s never going to happen, of course.
So, on the one hand we’ve got the fact that scuba divers are going there and destroying the wrecks, and on the other hand we’ve got the fact the fact that most scuba divers can’t even get to Palau…it’s so far away from the US and the UK. It’s even far away from Japan.
So, we’ve got a client who wants to create a “Little Palau” off the coast of Bimini…recreate the wrecks of Palau in an area more easily accessible to the US.”
“How’s the government of Bimini going to take that?” asked Cheryl.
“Well, I don’t know,” laughed Amanda. “That’s our boss’s problem. But he’s paying us to map all these wrecks, and that’s what we’re going to do.”
“So all three of you are going?”
“Yes…we’re leaving on the Scylla on Sunday.”
“You’re going to love it, I know,” said Cheryl. “Now, do you want a ride back to the pool?”
“No, I’ve got my…”
Amanda’s hands dropped to the pockets of her jeans, in the left hand of which was her wallet. She stopped. “Oh, dear. I’ve got my wallet…but I don’t have my purse. It’s back in the locker room at the pool.”
Cheryl laughed. “Not to worry. I’ve got a key to the pool. I’ll take you there.”
Teague watched them leave.
Had he heard right? He wondered. He had thought that Cheryl had said that Amanda didn’t have a job, that all she did was laze around on a beach all day and scuba dive, frittering her life away. But from what little he’d heard of their conversation, she did have a job…indeed, had her own business.
He’d watched Amanda, during the rest of the tournament, and seen how well she got along with the kids, and liked what he’d seen. She’d been so patient, so attentive, and so obviously enjoying herself and cheering enthusiastically for all the kids. And today, at the restaurant, he’d liked the fact that she’d had no scruples about devouring not one hot fudge sundae but two! You didn’t see many svelte women who did that!
Teague looked at his watch. They’d probably left the pool by now…how long did it take to grab a bunch of keys, after all. But perhaps he could catch her in the parking lot and apologize for his behavior when they’d first met.
But as it turned out they’d had plenty of time.
When Amanda and Cheryl had arrived at the building housing the pool, they’d gone in and walked along the pool deck to get to the locker rooms. Amanda had looked up to see the high dive board, and gotten a sudden idea.
“Cheryl,” she said, “I haven’t high dived since I was in college. Would you mind…I just want to try a couple of dives.”
Cheryl had laughed. “If you want. You’d never catch me up there. “
So it was that when Teague arrived at the swimming pool, it was to see Cheryl’s car still in the parking lot. He walked in, and paused in the doorway to the pool. Amanda was on the high dive, lithe and beautiful in a white swimsuit – 30 feet above the water.
Teague stopped in the doorway and watched, as she calmly walked to the edge of the board, bent her knees, and launched herself into space. She wrapped one arm about her waist, the other about her head, and spun around a couple of times before extending her arms and cleaving the water cleanly.
She emerged from the water to the sound of clapping from Cheryl Kazkowski.
For some reason, Teague remained where he was. He watched as Amanda mounted the 30m board again. What she did next really impressed him. It took courage enough to dive forward off a high board – she stood at the edge of the board…backwards. Then she seemed to fall backwards, off the board, somersaulted once, then twice, and then hit the water with scarcely a splash.
As Teague watched, Amanda emerged from the pool once more, laughing. She grabbed up a towel, and the two of them walked back into the women’s locker room.
Teague returned to his car and drove away. It was a pity, he thought, that Amanda Sutton was going to Palau. He’d probably never see her again…and he found himself regretting that.
Amanda sat at a table with a group of children and listened attentively, to them as they talked excitedly about their feats during the previous week…meanwhile making inroads on a Large Hot Fudge Brownie Sundae.
After the swimming teams and their families left, the coaches and volunteers remained behind. Amanda ordered another hot fudge sundae – the small size this time – and took it over to her friend Cheryl Kazkowski’s’s table, despite the fact that Cheryl was sitting at a table with Teague, the tournament director with whom she’d had that run-in her first day, and who had snubbed her the next day at the coffee shop.
“Hi, Cheryl,” she said in a low voice. “I’m about to take off.”
“Amanda, thanks for all your help this week,” Cheryl replied, in an equally low voice.
“It was fun. Thanks for asking me.”
“Are you headed back to Bimini?”
“No, I’m off to Palau. We’ve got a pretty exciting gig there.”
“Oh, what’s happening?”
“Well, you know that the waters around Palau are chock full of sunken ships and planes from World War II, right?”
Cheryl laughed. “I know it now.”
“Well, it’s always been a wreck diver’s paradise. And of course every year there’s more and more scuba divers, and a lot of ‘em don’t follow the scuba diver’s code – they dive into these wrecks and they steal things from them. Some of the wrecks are degrading rapidly.”
“That’s terrible,” said Cheryl. She might not know anything about Palau but she knew scuba divers, like tourists to any other location, were never supposed to take souvenirs away from the sites they visited.
“Yes,” nodded Amanda. “But there’s no way to stop it short of forbidding scuba divers there, and posting guards underwater to prevent the thefts – and that’s never going to happen, of course.
So, on the one hand we’ve got the fact that scuba divers are going there and destroying the wrecks, and on the other hand we’ve got the fact the fact that most scuba divers can’t even get to Palau…it’s so far away from the US and the UK. It’s even far away from Japan.
So, we’ve got a client who wants to create a “Little Palau” off the coast of Bimini…recreate the wrecks of Palau in an area more easily accessible to the US.”
“How’s the government of Bimini going to take that?” asked Cheryl.
“Well, I don’t know,” laughed Amanda. “That’s our boss’s problem. But he’s paying us to map all these wrecks, and that’s what we’re going to do.”
“So all three of you are going?”
“Yes…we’re leaving on the Scylla on Sunday.”
“You’re going to love it, I know,” said Cheryl. “Now, do you want a ride back to the pool?”
“No, I’ve got my…”
Amanda’s hands dropped to the pockets of her jeans, in the left hand of which was her wallet. She stopped. “Oh, dear. I’ve got my wallet…but I don’t have my purse. It’s back in the locker room at the pool.”
Cheryl laughed. “Not to worry. I’ve got a key to the pool. I’ll take you there.”
Teague watched them leave.
Had he heard right? He wondered. He had thought that Cheryl had said that Amanda didn’t have a job, that all she did was laze around on a beach all day and scuba dive, frittering her life away. But from what little he’d heard of their conversation, she did have a job…indeed, had her own business.
He’d watched Amanda, during the rest of the tournament, and seen how well she got along with the kids, and liked what he’d seen. She’d been so patient, so attentive, and so obviously enjoying herself and cheering enthusiastically for all the kids. And today, at the restaurant, he’d liked the fact that she’d had no scruples about devouring not one hot fudge sundae but two! You didn’t see many svelte women who did that!
Teague looked at his watch. They’d probably left the pool by now…how long did it take to grab a bunch of keys, after all. But perhaps he could catch her in the parking lot and apologize for his behavior when they’d first met.
But as it turned out they’d had plenty of time.
When Amanda and Cheryl had arrived at the building housing the pool, they’d gone in and walked along the pool deck to get to the locker rooms. Amanda had looked up to see the high dive board, and gotten a sudden idea.
“Cheryl,” she said, “I haven’t high dived since I was in college. Would you mind…I just want to try a couple of dives.”
Cheryl had laughed. “If you want. You’d never catch me up there. “
So it was that when Teague arrived at the swimming pool, it was to see Cheryl’s car still in the parking lot. He walked in, and paused in the doorway to the pool. Amanda was on the high dive, lithe and beautiful in a white swimsuit – 30 feet above the water.
Teague stopped in the doorway and watched, as she calmly walked to the edge of the board, bent her knees, and launched herself into space. She wrapped one arm about her waist, the other about her head, and spun around a couple of times before extending her arms and cleaving the water cleanly.
She emerged from the water to the sound of clapping from Cheryl Kazkowski.
For some reason, Teague remained where he was. He watched as Amanda mounted the 30m board again. What she did next really impressed him. It took courage enough to dive forward off a high board – she stood at the edge of the board…backwards. Then she seemed to fall backwards, off the board, somersaulted once, then twice, and then hit the water with scarcely a splash.
As Teague watched, Amanda emerged from the pool once more, laughing. She grabbed up a towel, and the two of them walked back into the women’s locker room.
Teague returned to his car and drove away. It was a pity, he thought, that Amanda Sutton was going to Palau. He’d probably never see her again…and he found himself regretting that.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
An Evening At Home
It was ten o’clock when Chelsea returned home that night. Her parents were in the living room. Her father was engrossed in the newspaper, her mother was reading a mystery novel…probably something by Agatha Christie.
She stuck her head through the door. “I’m home.”
“Hi, darling,” said her mother. “How’d it go?”
“It was fun, as usual. I always enjoy myself there.”
“Good.”
Her father lowered his paper to smile his approbation, then returned to his reading.
Chelsea next paused by her sister’s room. Stacy was seated at her desk, arms folded across her chest, staring at her computer screen.
“You don’t look like you’re having fun,” Chelsea said.
Stacy sighed. “I’ve been sitting here for two hours. I think I’ve written about a hundred words.”
“Well, a hundred words is a hundred words. Write a hundred words a day, and at the end of the year you’ll have written ….36 thousand words.”
“That’s only a third of a book,” Stacy pointed out. “These days, you have to write 90 thousand words.”
“Well, so it will take you three years.”
“Yeah…three years. Elizabeth Peters can write three books in one year.”
“Well, that’s Elizabeth Peters. You’re you.”
“You’re so comforting, Chelsea.”
“I try. By the way, we’ve got a meeting with Robert Wade tomorrow. Apparently he’s got another job for us.”
“Oh, really? That sounds promising. We’ve just about exhausted the scuba diving around here. Maybe he’ll want to go over to Grand Bahama, or maybe the Turks and Caicos.”
“Yeah, let’s hope so. Well, I’ll let you get back to your writing. Night.”
“Night.”
Chelsea went to her own bedroom. She undressed and ran a nice, hot bath for herself. She spent several minutes soaking in the tub, reading Six Who Found Treasure, by Roger Burgess. Her sister was more likely to read environmental books, like Saving the Turtles or Saving the Whales…even Saving the Sharks, but her interest had always been in finding sunken treasure…whether it be gold or silver bars from a Spanish galleon or a sunken Greek temple, like in one of her favorite movies, For Your Eyes Only.
It would be interesting to see what tomorrow would bring.
She stuck her head through the door. “I’m home.”
“Hi, darling,” said her mother. “How’d it go?”
“It was fun, as usual. I always enjoy myself there.”
“Good.”
Her father lowered his paper to smile his approbation, then returned to his reading.
Chelsea next paused by her sister’s room. Stacy was seated at her desk, arms folded across her chest, staring at her computer screen.
“You don’t look like you’re having fun,” Chelsea said.
Stacy sighed. “I’ve been sitting here for two hours. I think I’ve written about a hundred words.”
“Well, a hundred words is a hundred words. Write a hundred words a day, and at the end of the year you’ll have written ….36 thousand words.”
“That’s only a third of a book,” Stacy pointed out. “These days, you have to write 90 thousand words.”
“Well, so it will take you three years.”
“Yeah…three years. Elizabeth Peters can write three books in one year.”
“Well, that’s Elizabeth Peters. You’re you.”
“You’re so comforting, Chelsea.”
“I try. By the way, we’ve got a meeting with Robert Wade tomorrow. Apparently he’s got another job for us.”
“Oh, really? That sounds promising. We’ve just about exhausted the scuba diving around here. Maybe he’ll want to go over to Grand Bahama, or maybe the Turks and Caicos.”
“Yeah, let’s hope so. Well, I’ll let you get back to your writing. Night.”
“Night.”
Chelsea went to her own bedroom. She undressed and ran a nice, hot bath for herself. She spent several minutes soaking in the tub, reading Six Who Found Treasure, by Roger Burgess. Her sister was more likely to read environmental books, like Saving the Turtles or Saving the Whales…even Saving the Sharks, but her interest had always been in finding sunken treasure…whether it be gold or silver bars from a Spanish galleon or a sunken Greek temple, like in one of her favorite movies, For Your Eyes Only.
It would be interesting to see what tomorrow would bring.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Chelsea and the Piano Bar, Part 2
Chelsea performed one more song...The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, which apparently was another favorite of the crowd's, for they clapped loudly at the end of that one too.
Then she went back to tinkling the ivories as background music and they went back to their interminable chattering.
Wade took a deep breath and took a seat at one of the stools lining the bent side of the piano.
"Hello," he said.
"Mr. Wade," said Chelsea, surprise in her voice.
"I enjoyed your...set, I think it's called?"
"Yes, set," nodded Chelsea with a grin. "Thanks."
That had done it, Wade thought ruefully. He knew it was called a set, he should have just said it. Instead he'd made it sound like what he really was...an observer who knew words out of books, not out of actual experience.
"So you're enjoying the night life of the island," she continued, her hands moving gracefully over the piano keyboard.
"Yes. I ... I didn't realize you were a professional piano player, as well as a scuba guide."
Chelsea smiled. "At one point, when my sisters and I were very young, we were going to form a rock band - like the Pointer Sisters. Our whole family is musically inclined. But we learned that we all preferred scuba diving to singing in front of an audience. So this is a hobby now."
"You're very talented."
"Thank you."
Wade sipped his Pepsi.
"I've enjoyed diving with you," he said at last.
"I'm glad."
"And I have a proposition for you." Chelsea raised her eyebrows at him and he said quickly, "A business proposition, I mean. Scuba business."
She chuckled. "I'm glad to hear it."
"I'm glad that you're glad," Wade said with a smile. "We can't discuss it here. Can I meet with you and your sister tomorrow? At the dock, at noon?"
"Sure," said Chelsea.
"Very good. I shall leave you now."
He stood up, nodded at her, and quickly threaded his way through the tables and out of the room.
Chelsea stared after his retreating figure, a slight grin on her face. He certainly was...what was the term...abrupt. Not too aware of the social niceties. Kind of like Mr. Darcy, as played by Colin Firth in Pride and Prejudice.
Absent-mindedly, Chelsea began playing the theme song of that TV production.
Then she went back to tinkling the ivories as background music and they went back to their interminable chattering.
Wade took a deep breath and took a seat at one of the stools lining the bent side of the piano.
"Hello," he said.
"Mr. Wade," said Chelsea, surprise in her voice.
"I enjoyed your...set, I think it's called?"
"Yes, set," nodded Chelsea with a grin. "Thanks."
That had done it, Wade thought ruefully. He knew it was called a set, he should have just said it. Instead he'd made it sound like what he really was...an observer who knew words out of books, not out of actual experience.
"So you're enjoying the night life of the island," she continued, her hands moving gracefully over the piano keyboard.
"Yes. I ... I didn't realize you were a professional piano player, as well as a scuba guide."
Chelsea smiled. "At one point, when my sisters and I were very young, we were going to form a rock band - like the Pointer Sisters. Our whole family is musically inclined. But we learned that we all preferred scuba diving to singing in front of an audience. So this is a hobby now."
"You're very talented."
"Thank you."
Wade sipped his Pepsi.
"I've enjoyed diving with you," he said at last.
"I'm glad."
"And I have a proposition for you." Chelsea raised her eyebrows at him and he said quickly, "A business proposition, I mean. Scuba business."
She chuckled. "I'm glad to hear it."
"I'm glad that you're glad," Wade said with a smile. "We can't discuss it here. Can I meet with you and your sister tomorrow? At the dock, at noon?"
"Sure," said Chelsea.
"Very good. I shall leave you now."
He stood up, nodded at her, and quickly threaded his way through the tables and out of the room.
Chelsea stared after his retreating figure, a slight grin on her face. He certainly was...what was the term...abrupt. Not too aware of the social niceties. Kind of like Mr. Darcy, as played by Colin Firth in Pride and Prejudice.
Absent-mindedly, Chelsea began playing the theme song of that TV production.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)