Hunt the Wide Waters
The cruising houseboat _Spindrift_ moved sedately across Eastern Bay,
off the main Chesapeake Bay, toward the town of Claiborne. It was a
lovely day with a blue sky dotted with occasional fair-weather clouds.
The temperature was in the low eighties, the wind gentle, and the water
warm.
Rick Brant sat on the bow of the houseboat, with his feet dangling over.
Next to him sat Jan Miller. His sister Barby, with their mother and
father, were relaxing in deck chairs on the sun deck, while Scotty
piloted the boat.
Now and then the bow dipped, and the spray splashed up in a cooling
shower. Rick enjoyed the feeling of the cool spray, and the taste of
salt on his tongue. Jan did, too. Rick thought she made quite a picture
with her white bathing suit and golden tan contrasting with her dark
hair. His one regret was that he couldn't swim with Jan, Scotty, and the
family. Both Jan and Barby were expert Scuba divers, and he had looked
forward to spearfishing with them in the bay. The girls had brought
their own Scuba equipment in the luggage compartment of Hartson Brant's
car.
Rick's bandages had been reduced to a single jumbo-size gauze patch, but
his folks would not allow him to go swimming until his face was entirely
healed. He knew they were right, though he chafed under the restriction.
Even so, swimming was really only a small part of the fun of
houseboating, and the ban on swimming wouldn't last long.
Jan had put on a fresh bandage for him after breakfast that morning, and
remarked in her soft voice, "It will be completely healed in another day
or two, Rick. You can go swimming then."
Meanwhile, he had found an acceptable substitute. Steve Ames was a
subscriber to _Bowhunting Magazine_, and in a back issue Rick had found
an article on fishing for sting rays with bow and arrow. Steve had
loaned a bow, and Rick had invested in fishing arrows and a reel for the
bow. So far, he had found only one sting ray, and in his excitement he
had failed to take into account the refraction of the water. He aimed
where the ray seemed to be--but wasn't.
Rick's pretty, blond sister called down to him. "Rick! There's a sand
bar at the tip of that point."
He looked to where Barby was pointing and saw a good-sized sand bar
extending out under the water. "I see it, Sis. Thanks. It will be a
while before we get there."
Jan smiled at him. "Going to try again?"
"You bet I am. Got to catch up with you somehow."
Jan had bagged a ten-pound rockfish underwater on the day before, and
they had baked it in a driftwood fire on a beach at Poplar Island. Rick
was as proud as though the catch had been his own. He had been Jan's
diving instructor and had taught her how to stalk a fish.
"You can catch up day after tomorrow when the folks will let you dive,"
Jan assured him.
"Can't wait that long," Rick replied. "I'm going to find a fifty-pound
ray right now."
"Go get your bow," Jan said. "I'll join the others and we'll all spot
for you."
Rick got to his feet and gave Jan a hand up. He went down the catwalk to
the cabin while she went up the ladder to the top deck.
The bow was in the closet. Rick checked the string, then strung the bow
and selected two arrows. He went out on deck and stopped at Scotty's
side. "Looks like a good place. Cruise slow and easy and be ready to
maneuver. If there's a ray there, I want it."
"Okay. Go for broke, Robin Hood. What I can't understand is why you
don't shoot for something edible."
"Can't," Rick said cheerfully. "Edible-type fish don't hang around
waiting for boats to bring bowmen close."
He climbed the rear ladder to the upper deck and joined his family.
Hartson Brant smiled at his son. "Next time we let you go off by
yourself don't get involved in mysteries. Then you won't have to bowhunt
inedible sea animals."
"It's fun," Rick returned. "I'd want to do it even if I could spear
fish. Want to take a shot?"
"I'll take a shot after you've boated your first ray."
"Fair enough," Rick agreed.
Mrs. Brant asked, "Where are we going, Rick?"
He pointed to the peninsula. "Around that land. There's a creek on the
other side called Tilghman Creek. The cruising guide says there's a good
anchorage just inside. If it looks all right, well spend the night
there. If not, we'll go across to the Wye River. Tomorrow we'll go down
the Miles River to the town of St. Michaels and put in supplies."
The scientist smiled at his wife. "It's nice to relax and have our
children do the work and the thinking, isn't it?"
"It's too good to last," Mrs. Brant returned.
Barby and Jan were standing far forward, close to where the cabin top
curved downward to the forward deck. Rick joined them.
"This is fun!" Barby exclaimed. "Rick this houseboat was the best idea
you ever had!"
"We all should have traveled down together," Jan said. "Then the whole
family could have been in on the case of the flying stingaree."
"That will be the day," Barby replied. "When Rick Brant lets us in on
any real adventures, I'll know the world is coming to an end." Her tone
changed suddenly. "Look, we're getting into shallow water. Keep a sharp
lookout!"
Rick went down the ladder to the foredeck and tied his arrowhead to the
fish line wound in the reel on his bow. He nocked the arrow and got
ready to shoot. He looked up at the two pretty girls standing above him.
"Let out a yell if you see a dark blot."
Barby gave him a scornful look. "Of course we'll yell. Did you think we
were standing here waiting for flying saucers to land?"
The houseboat plowed through a patch of sea grass and emerged over sandy
bottom. Rick kept careful watch, but he knew the girls would see the
first sign of a ray before he did, because of their higher vantage
point.
Steve would enjoy this, he thought. The JANIG agent was back in
Washington, his vacation interrupted again because of the work that
remained on the case of Lefty Camillion. Lefty was in jail, too, along
with his friends.
Rick shook his head. He was still amazed at the mobster's stupidity in
creating such an elaborate setup to get data that was his for the
asking. Apparently it just hadn't occurred to Lefty that a rocket range
could be without secrets.
If there _had_ been secrets, though, the system was a good one. By using
the combination of a balloon and a rocket, Lefty got his equipment high
enough to intercept Wallops Island telemetry, and he did it without
anyone suspecting he was launching rockets. The rockets and balloons
dropped into the ocean, unseen--or, if seen, the first thought would be
that they had come from Wallops. The shape of the balloons also kept
anyone from suspecting that the theft of data was the real purpose. It
was a fine scheme, even though it had all been unnecessary.
The girls let out a yell that startled Rick from his reverie. Scotty
immediately throttled back, and the boat's momentum carried it forward.
Rick watched the water, and finally saw a dark blur on the sandy bottom
ahead and to the left. He drew, then waited until he saw the dark patch
move. This time he allowed for the water's refraction. He loosed the
arrow.
The stingaree felt the impact and reacted violently. Its tail lashed up
to strike with sharp barbs at the intruder. The tail lashed the arrow
shaft without effect. The ray's wings moved in a rippling motion like
that of some weird flying carpet. It flashed upward, and into the air,
then crashed back on the surface of the water again. It dived, heading
for the bottom.
Rick kept the drag on his reel, letting the ray fight against the
braking action. The fish didn't give up easily. It had the primitive
nervous system and great vitality of its relatives, the sharks, and it
fought long after an edible fish, like a rockfish, would have given up.
When the ray moved toward the now stationary boat, Rick reeled in line.
When the ray showed a new burst of energy and started away, Rick let it
fight against the drag, pulling out line.
The girls were down on the foredeck with him now, and Scotty had joined
the Brants on the upper deck in order to get a better view of the fight.
Finally, the ray tired. Rick drew it in close to the hull and waited
while the vicious tail lashed futilely. Jan took the gaff that Scotty
handed down to her and gave it to Rick. He hooked the sea beast and
lifted it from the water.
"Stand clear!" he warned. "I don't want either of you getting hit with
that tail!"
The girls hurried up the ladder to safety, and Rick lifted the stingaree
to the deck.
It was a small one, weighing about fifteen pounds. The wet, leathery
body glistened, and the kite-shaped wings flapped like those of some
fantastic bird.
Scotty looked down at the ray. "You caught a cripple," he said. "There's
something wrong with it."
Rick looked up. He knew the answer, but he asked the question anyway,
grinning. "Yes? What's wrong with it?"
"It can't fly," Scotty said.
* * * * *
RICK BRANT SCIENCE STORIES
[Illustration: RICK BRANT]
Rick Brant is the boy who with his pal Scotty lives on an island called
Spindrift and takes part in so many thrilling adventures and baffling
mysteries involving science and electronics. You can share every one of
these adventures in the pages of Rick's books. They are available at
your book store in handsome, low-priced editions.
THE ROCKET'S SHADOW
THE LOST CITY
SEA GOLD
100 FATHOMS UNDER
THE WHISPERING BOX MYSTERY
THE PHANTOM SHARK
SMUGGLERS' REEF
THE CAVES OF FEAR
STAIRWAY TO DANGER
THE GOLDEN SKULL
THE WAILING OCTOPUS
THE ELECTRONIC MIND READER
THE SCARLET LAKE MYSTERY
THE PIRATES OF SHAN
THE BLUE GHOST MYSTERY
THE EGYPTIAN CAT MYSTERY
THE FLAMING MOUNTAIN
THE FLYING STINGAREE
THE RUBY RAY MYSTERY
THE VEILED RAIDERS
RICK BRANT'S SCIENCE PROJECTS
End of Project Gutenberg's The Flying Stingaree, by Harold Leland Goodwin