Overboard! Read online

  Contents

  * * *

  Title Page

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Author’s Note

  U.S. Coast Guard–Approved Cold-Water Survival Tips

  Acknowledgments

  Sample Chapter from AVALANCHE!

  Read More from the Survivor Diaries Series

  Middle Grade Mania!

  About the Author

  Connect with HMH on Social Media

  Copyright © 2017 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

  Illustrations copyright © 2017 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

  All rights reserved. For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to [email protected] or to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 3 Park Avenue, 19th Floor, New York, New York 10016.

  www.hmhco.com

  Illustrations by Jani Orban

  Cover illustrations © 2017 by Owen Richardson

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Names: Johnson, Terry Lynn, author.

  Title: Overboard / by Terry Lynn Johnson ; with illustrations by Jovan Ukropina.

  Description: Boston ; New York : Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, [2017]. | Series: Survivor diaries ; [book 1] | Summary: Eleven-year-old Travis and twelve-year-old Marina, separated from their families after being thrown into the Atlantic off the coast of Washington, battle hypothermia as they struggle to survive. Includes Coast Guard-approved cold-water survival tips.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016028377 | ISBN 9780544970106 (hardback)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Survival—Fiction. | Lost children—Fiction. | Atlantic Ocean—Fiction. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Action & Adventure / Survival Stories. | JUVENILE FICTION / Nature & the Natural World / Environment. | JUVENILE FICTION / People & Places / United States / General. | JUVENILE FICTION / Animals / Marine Life.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.J63835 Ove 2017 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016028377

  eISBN 978-1-328-69901-5

  v1.0617

  For my fellow officers in the marine unit, past and present. I’ve learned so much from all of you.

  Chapter One

  “Tell me how you survived the whale attack,” the reporter said.

  Not this again. I sank back into the couch cushions and rubbed my face.

  “That’s not the real story,” I told him. I could hardly believe what had actually happened.

  He leaned in. “Then tell me the real story. That’s why I’m here. As I explained, I’m writing a series about survivors—kids like you—who made it home alive after a life-threatening experience. I want to hear about that afternoon while you were on vacation. You and Marina were the only ones who didn’t make it to the life rafts.”

  He glanced over his shoulder toward the kitchen. The smell of peanut butter cookies drifted toward us.

  “I want to hear the truth so young people who read these survivor diaries can learn from you. There aren’t many eleven-year-olds who’ve had an experience like yours.”

  He placed his phone on the coffee table between us and pressed Record. “So, Travis, how did you survive?”

  I stared at the bald man sitting in my living room. He was asking me to talk about the worst moments of my life.

  I blew out a breath. “I didn’t even know what was going on at first. Marina just yelled the warning and then the next thing you know I’m in the water. Everything was crazy loud. You know that bubbly kind of sound you hear underwater? Except not the peaceful kind like when you’re swimming. It was even worse on the surface with the waves smacking me in the face and the wind howling and people screaming and . . .”

  “No, no.” He scratched at his tiny beard on his chin. “I want you to start at the beginning. The whole story. Take your time.”

  I took a sip from my lemonade. “It all started with the whales.”

  Chapter Two

  Four months earlier

  The boat swayed beneath me. I spread my feet apart to balance and lifted my face into the wind. It smelled like seaweed and salt and some kind of animal poop and it was awesome.

  “Put this on, Trav.” Mom ambushed me with a red and black suit. She held it open for me to step into like I was five, and stuffed my arm into a sleeve.

  “What? No, what is that?”

  “An immersion suit. It’s rough today, and it’s going to be chilly on the water.”

  “Stacey’s not wearing one,” I said.

  “Older. And wiser.” My sister didn’t look up from texting, but she smirked for my benefit.

  I let Mom do up the zipper—no point in arguing. Ever since my gym accident, Mom had been hovering. It was my life.

  “And I hid some animal crackers in the pocket in case you want a snack.”

  “Mom,” Stacey said. “I think the last thing Chunky Monkey needs is a snack.”

  “Welcome aboard the Selkie Two,” a man said through the speakers attached to the outside of the cabin.

  The wheelhouse is what Dad had called it. I could see inside through the big windows to where people were sitting on benches.

  “I’m your captain, Alfonso Hernandez. My daughter Marina and I are happy you’ve chosen to come with us this afternoon. July is a great time for whale watching in the Strait of Juan de Fuca.”

  The captain was talking into a microphone while steering the boat from the front of the cabin. A dark-haired girl next to him waved.

  “For the next three hours, we hope to find you some harbor seals and sea lions. If we’re lucky we’ll see orcas, and maybe humpbacks. There’s a ten-knot northwest wind, we’ll have a bit of chop, but nothing our fine vessel can’t handle. Let’s hope the wildlife cooperates. We do guarantee jellyfish sightings.”

  Someone standing next to me at the railing chuckled.

  “So let’s get to the introduction, and then we’ll be all set. We’ve got twenty-three on board today, including crew. This is a fifty-foot vessel equipped with all the latest safety features.”

  I watched the girl, Marina, through the giant windows. She walked through the cabin pointing at things as her dad talked about where everything was.

  My focus drifted back to the water. White lines raced across the surface. Rolling waves curled at their tops. The waves slapped against the boat as we headed out, directly toward the mountains in the background. I couldn’t believe we were finally here.

  “Think we’ll see a whale?” I asked Dad.

  Out of everything we had planned on our vacation to Washington State, this was what I’d been looking forward to the most. I’d never seen a whale.

  Dad’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the rail. “Uh . . . er . . . maybe. I think I should go sit for a bit. You keep watch.” He was pale already and we’d just started.

  “Aren’t those magic bands working?” I asked, pointing to what he wore on his wrists to stop seasickness.

  “Come on, Travis,” Mom said. “We’ll all go inside.”

  “But I want to see the whales,” I said. “Look, I’ve got my suit on.”

  “Leave him be, Mandy,” said Dad, as he lurched toward the cabin.

  “I’m going up,” Stacey said, and she headed for the stairs to the platform on top of the cabin. “Better cell reception.”

  I started to follow but Mom pulled me back. “No, I don’t want you to slip.”

 
Once I got closer to the stairs, I could see Mom was right. They were steep, and that platform looked high. I was glad she’d said no, but I pretended to be disappointed.

  Mom glanced back at me with worried eyes before she helped Dad into the cabin. I walked to the other side of the boat.

  Freedom! The wind blew through my hair. With the suit on, I wasn’t cold at all.

  “Harbor porpoises!” a voice said beside me.

  I turned and saw Marina pointing out into the water. Her wide-brimmed hat was attached with a chin strap. A blue-checkered bandanna flapped around her neck, making her look like an adventurer from a magazine.

  “There’s a pod of them following the current line! Do you see?”

  I searched the water and saw nothing but waves.

  “You can tell they’re harbor porpoises because their dorsal fins are shaped like chocolate chips.”

  A small black fin popped out of the water and dipped back in again.

  “There! I saw it,” I said. “They swim so fast.” I looked at her and grinned.

  She wore a short red life jacket over her Windbreaker. The life jacket had things attached to it, including a small knife sheath.

  “That’s cool,” I said, pointing to the knife.

  “It’s my marine knife. I always keep it on my guide vest. All mariners wear them in case we have to cut a line real quick.”

  “You’re a guide? How old are you?”

  “Twelve. But you don’t have to be old to know stuff. I’ve been doing this my whole life.”

  I tried to think of a way to change the subject because I didn’t want her to ask how old I was next and find out that I was younger than her. But she wasn’t looking at me; she was gazing across the waves.

  I followed her gaze and saw what she was looking at. More fins sticking out of the water, but these were long. Some of them looked as tall as Mom.

  Marina waved to her dad through the window and pointed.

  “J-pod,” she yelled. “Starboard side.” Then to me she added, “That’s marine-speak for the right side of the vessel. The left side is called port.”

  I nodded as if I knew that because I didn’t like the way she said it to me, as if I didn’t.

  The boat slowed down and it seemed as if all the people who had been inside were running out of the cabin and up the stairs to the viewing platform.

  Black fins that looked like sharks’ sliced through the water directly toward us. They were all clumped together. “What did you call them?”

  “They’re orcas, also called killer whales. They live here in the Salish Sea. All the whales in a family that swim together are called a pod. This pod has Granny, the oldest killer whale. She’s over a hundred years old!”

  “But how can you tell which pod this is?”

  “They all have a unique saddle patch on their dorsal fin.”

  I couldn’t see the difference at all, except that some of the fins were longer than others. One of the orcas lifted its head out of the water and I glimpsed the white markings for a moment before it disappeared.

  A gust of wind pushed me forward. The boat rocked harder with the waves and I gripped the railing to steady myself.

  Almost everyone was up top taking pictures. I peered over to the other side of the boat, to the port side. The biggest whale I’d ever seen in my life leaped out of the water, its body arched. Long fins on its side stuck out like airplane wings. It splashed back down with a loud slap.

  “Humpbacks!” Marina squealed. “That was a juvenile breaching. A young one.”

  A line of mist suddenly shot out of the water, and I heard a sound like Grandpa blowing his nose real loud.

  “The mom whale is coming beside it!” Marina hopped. “They’re going to pass right in front of us!”

  I caught a whiff of something like bad breath. Fishy. “That was a young one?”

  “Yeah, adults are almost fifty feet. That’s longer than a school bus!”

  I couldn’t believe our luck. I searched the cabin to see if Mom and Dad were watching, but I couldn’t see them.

  “I should go get my parents,” I said.

  “Where—?” But before she could finish, she gaped at something behind me, her eyes growing wide.

  “DAD!” she screamed.

  I didn’t have time to look. The boat rocked violently out from under my feet, and then hurtled me into the air.

  Chapter Three

  Darkness. Black and cold. I didn’t know which way was up. How deep did I plunge? Weird hollow noises. Must get air!

  Up, up, my suit pushed me up like a beach ball.

  I broke the surface and gasped a loud sucking noise. Freezing water filled my lungs. I coughed and coughed.

  Chaos.

  Waves slammed my face. Wind screamed. The ocean spun around me. Cold water everywhere. Something shrieking. What was that noise?

  “Mom!” I tried to yell, but my mouth filled with salty water. I gagged and wiped my eyes. Turning my head from the waves, I tried to look around. My breathing was fast and choppy. Something was in the water off to my right. What was that? A whale?

  “The whale attacked the boat,” someone behind me sobbed.

  Waves crashed against the thing in the water. People screamed all around me.

  “Help! I can’t swim!”

  “Hailey! Where’s Hailey?”

  “Dad!” I yelled, just as a wave broke over my head. I tried again, pushing myself higher in the water. “DAD!”

  Where were they? Where was my sister?

  Someone was climbing the thing in the water. I realized it was the bottom of the boat. It looked so wrong upside down. I flailed my arms, trying to swim closer.

  “Get away from the boat,” I heard someone yell. “It’s going down.”

  “Help!” Someone close by yelled.

  I turned and saw Marina barely bobbing on the surface. She was thrashing weakly with one arm, trying to twist her face away from going underwater. She moaned, holding her arm close to her body.

  I spun back toward the boat, but heard Marina moan again. A wave broke over her face.

  The panic cleared from my mind. I had to get her! I swam toward her and grabbed the back of her jacket.

  She clung to me, screeching, “I can’t move my arm.”

  The wind was blowing us farther away. There was something red in the water next to the boat. It grew on the surface like a balloon. People were helping each other climb in. A life raft.

  “Come on,” I said, trying to kick toward it. Cold waves washed over my face. The salt stung my eyes. I couldn’t see. Suddenly, it seemed impossibly far to swim.

  “Mom! Dad!” I yelled. “Stacey!”

  “Hu-huddle with me,” Marina said. “Get into the HELP position.”

  “What?” I yelled at her.

  “Tuck your arms to your sides. Hug yourself. Bring your knees toward . . .” She coughed as a wave filled her mouth. “. . . chest. Keeps your heat in. Heat. Escape. Lessening. Position.”

  It was getting harder to hold her up. I kept kicking toward the life raft, but it was so far now. How did it get so far away?

  “We have to kick toward the island,” Marina said, nodding her head toward a small island behind us.

  The wind and waves were pushing us in that direction, so it was easier to turn away from the waves that were breaking over my face. Something bumped me in the back. I screamed, thinking it was a whale.

  Marina yelled, “Grab it!”

  It was a long piece of plywood, just barely on the surface of the water. When we both grabbed it, it didn’t sink far. It was such a relief to have something to hold on to.

  Marina stretched across it as if it were a surfboard and started kicking toward the island. “Come on! Kick!”

  I draped my body next to hers on the board, and we both kicked like motorboats. But it was tough to make the board go where we wanted. It was square and didn’t move through the water well.

  Waves crashed along the shoreline. Big spla
shes of water shot up from the rocks straight into the air. I kicked as hard as I’ve ever kicked in my life, but we were still too far away to swim to shore. The waves were going to sweep us past the tip of the island.

  “Should we try to swim?” I yelled.

  Marina shook her head. “Too much energy. And I think my wrist is broken.”

  My heart pounded in my head. I panted big gulps of air as we surfed on top of the waves. We sailed past the island and watched it go by. I didn’t think I’d make the swim anyway.

  “We lost too much body heat with all that kicking,” Marina said. “Get as much of your skin out of the water as you can. The water sucks out your heat faster than the air.”

  We crawled farther up on the board, but it started to sink with my weight. I slipped off a bit.

  “Here, I’m wearing the suit, you stay on the board,” I said. I craned my head as high as I could to look behind us. But I couldn’t see over the waves. I’d lost sight of the boat and the life raft. I looked around at where we had drifted.

  There was nothing but endless water. We were all alone out here.

  Chapter Four

  We weren’t entirely alone. Long ships passed in the distance, too far away to see us.

  “We have about an hour,” Marina said. “Then we’ll probably lose consciousness.”

  “What?” I didn’t want to die. I started breathing faster again, searching around for my parents. For anyone.

  “After you fall into cold water, a bunch of things happen. The big thing is, it makes you gasp. You can’t help it. And if you’re underwater, that’s bad. The first minute is where you panic and hyperventilate. You breathe too fast and suck in water and drown.”

  We tucked in our chins as a wave pushed us from behind. I remembered panicking. But I saw Marina and it made me think about something else.

  “But if you don’t panic,” she continued, “then you have about ten minutes to set up your life raft before you start to lose feeling in your fingers. Our arms are going to stop working properly.”