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SIDNEY
AUSTRALIA
It
was a clear night outside the lecture hall at Brisbane University, the
stars were shining brightly and the smell of wax polished woodwork had
been replaced with a cool moist floral aroma. John
Storm had said his goodbyes and was considering going back to his
hotel for another night, since it was by now rather late. But, he was
restless, not ready to crash. Feeling inspired from the buzz in the lecture hall, he
wanted to do something to round the evening off. He walked for a bit in
the grounds, the evening dew on the short cropped grass making his shoes
wet, then he suddenly made a mental connection that had eluded him for
days: his Uncle; the mysterious note and the key! It must have been
something to do with his work, not any ordinary legacy. It nagged at him,
his natural curiosity
finally got the better of him in a sudden urge to find out what the old
eccentric had hidden away from the world for him to find.
He headed for
the car park.
John clicked the button on his key fob, and the central locking on his
trusty methanol powered Jeep clunked open. He loved his custom four by four, a classic dark blue
number from the 1990s and still going strong. It was solid and reliable, a
workhorse that had been fully restored several times. What’s more, it
could do things most other vehicles would fall far short of, and when he
needed it, it had a turn of speed. Especially, with the all terrain
oversize tyres he’d fitted. Good move that. The only bad news was that
when it was petrol powered it was a guzzler. He turned the ignition key and the
4 litre engine fired with a powerful whoosh. Into gear and off he went. He spoke
the area code into his TomTom, He’d kept the envelope and note in his
glove box thank goodness. The journey distance was calculated as 770
kilometers via Pacific Highway.
The
directions map was a faded nautical chart tucked inside the wooden box,
this led John to a remote stretch of coastline north of Sydney, near Nelson
Bay. He recalled the area was sparsely populated, the rugged terrain a mix of dense
forest and rocky cliffs overlooking the turquoise waters of the Tasman
Sea.
“Take the second exit on the roundabout for twenty miles,” said the
smart little GPS box of tricks in an authoritative female English accent.
“Happy to Ma’am,” said John out loud.
Much of the coast road south was motorway. The first long leg to Coffs
Harbour took almost four hours. Port Macquarie took another hour and
twenty minutes to reach. Nelson’s Bay came into view in record time,
just 135 minutes, necessitating a reverse leg from the A1 motorway to
circumnavigate Port Stephens via Medowie. By all accounts a rapid journey
time and just as well, John was getting stiff and sleepy, sitting so still
in his lecturer’s evening attire.
Fortunately,
the Jeep was also comfortable with heated, and softly cushioned fully adjustable
leather seats, which extended journey times and staved off fatigue; thanks
to cruise control. Now John had to find a hangar in the cove in the dark.
Well, not actually dark; dawn would be breaking in a couple of hours. John
drove around the cove anticlockwise slowly for five minutes. Suddenly,
TomTom announced:
“You have reached your destination.”
"I have?
Thanks TomTom."
NELSON'S
COVE, THE FIRST DAY
Following the map’s cryptic markings, John discovered a secluded
cove, Nelson’s Cove, hidden from view by a natural rock arch. And there,
nestled within a colossal, almost impossibly large hangar disguised as a
boat shed, was what was to become his nautical ally, lay silently waiting
to be discovered.
John
parked and got out, taking a torch from the glove box. He slipped out of
his jacket and trousers, placing on a hanger, and put on a comfortable
pair of jeans and his sheepskin flying jacket, then locked the Jeep. He
took a pair of soft leather gloves from the jacket pockets and pulled them
on. The silence was spooky, the air laden with moisture. He half expected
to find smugglers unloading contraband in the shadows. There was a bright
mist clinging to the shore and the sea was shimmering close to the
horizon. It reminded him of John Carpenter’s film: The Fog. He walked
for about 100 metres warily, coming to a galvanised wire-mesh fence three
metres tall. His first instinct was to climb over it. Then he spotted the
dark thin wire supported in nylon carriers above the wire fence line. An
electrified fence. He came to a gate locked with a large billet steel
padlock through a slide bolt. Would one of his keys fit? The first one he
tried did. This must be the place. John twisted the key to open the
padlock. He closed the gate and slid the bolt back leaving the padlock
open.
Once inside, John realised that the compound was quite large. Another
fifty metres and he made out a hangar wall. Closing on that, and on came a
security light, which made him feel both vulnerable and clumsy. The light
illuminated a doorway, but curiously the door had no lock. It was a heavy
steel security door. To the right of the doorway was a flap. John lifted
the flap cautiously, which revealed a thumb scanner. No, couldn’t be. He
took off his right glove and placed his thumb on the pad, which sensed the
heat and pressure and initiated a scan, when the pad lit up red for a few
heart stopping moments. The red changed to green and a solenoid activated
the door’s unlock mechanism. It swung open by about 100 millimetres from
inbuilt springs. His Uncle was more unfathomable than he’d anticipated.
But his sense of the dramatic was appreciated. I’d have done the same he
thought smiling to himself.
John was comforted by this thought, as he stepped into the darkness of the
building and was hit be an acrid odor that he vaguely recognized. His body
heat triggered a low wattage light above a bank of switches. Am I ready
for this? John switched on the middle switch. A bank of fluorescent lights
flickered into life in the centre of the building, revealing three long
cylindrical objects covered in a faded white twill cloth and bound by
ropes. The longest was some 35 metres. There were other tubular
structures, what looked like a bit of a crane and two large boat shaped
objects, also covered in cloth and roped tight. John pulled aside some of
the cloth to reveal a shiny silver coloured metal. He could smell that it
was an aluminium alloy. In fact he’d worked with this metal some years
ago. It was a premium quality marine grade alloy, with a high magnesium
content. It did not corrode in seawater. Holy shit, he thought to himself,
I don’t know what it is, but this is great. His heart was pounding –
what had he discovered?
Looking above John noticed some substantial sized bats clinging to the
roof frames, looking down at him with their sienna brown eyes glinting
from the strip lights. They were strangely fox like creatures, and that
explained the acrid odor that of course he recognized from his boyhood
days when he curiously studied a bat in a local belfry, that came out at
dusk every evening to hunt insects. There was no time now for nature
study, no matter how fascinating the upside down mammals were.
Outside, the sun was melting away the morning mist to a glorious new day.
John decided to regroup. He needed to secure the area and be sure of his
ground before getting too stuck into this mystery. It was big. John
reached for his mobile and dialed George
Franks; Franks, Swindles & Gentry. The phone purred. He looked at
his watch, a stunning piece of modern craftsmanship which could do just
about anything but make dinner. The Casio Explorer limited edition showed
six thirty-five Australian time. Whoops! John closed the phone and slid it
back into his coat pocket. Looks like breakfast then before I investigate
further.
Surveying the scene, John noticed that the huge hanger fronted onto the
cove, the sea going right up to the roller shutter doors and underneath,
with concrete sides projecting forward by another twenty metres. The door
was thirty metres wide at least. The hanger building was a good eighty
metres wide in total. The fencing folded back along the side projections
to the roller doors. Hence, to gain entry by this route, would mean
getting seriously wet. John wondered who owned the building. His mobile
played a blues riff.
GEORGE
FRANKS
“G’day.” The words were out almost before the phone was opened.
“Good morning to you John.”
“Is that you Mr Franks?”
“You called me John.”
“That I did, and I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“That’s not important John. More to the point, are you in the Cove?”
“That I am and I’ve got some questions. What is the aluminium
structure? Who owns the building and how long have I got to do whatever it
is uncle wanted me to do?”
“Well John, I know it’s all quite a puzzle at the moment, but the
answer to your second question is rather dependent on what you make of the
first.” “I’d take a week or two if I were you, to assess the
situation. It’s very early, and I know you gave a lecture last night.
You must be tired.”
Crikey, the old duffer knows all.
“Get yourself a nice English breakfast. They do a decent spread 4 miles
up the road. ‘Henriettas’ just off Soldiers Point.”
“Good advice George, now you go back to sleep.”
Without waiting for an
answer, John closed the phone. Henrietta's sounded just the ticket, followed
by a tour of Soldiers Point.
ROO & THE MARY BELLE
He parked up, reclined his seat, pulled his leather hat over his eyes,
determined to get thirty minutes shut eye. In minutes he was in a deep
sleep. Three hours and twenty-five minutes later he woke to a tapping on
his door window. He felt dehydrated, because he was. John wound down his
window with the touch of a button.
A man
greeted him wearing a green checked shirt, a Breton
cap and matching hand-woven wool mix jacket. John liked the jacket. It
reminded him of Basil Rathbone in Sherlock Holmes.
“Howdy mate, I’m the skipper of the ‘Mary Belle’,” the man said
motioning to a well-ordered fishing rig. Obviously, thought John.
“Morning matey.” John looked over to the Mary Belle past the
fisherman’s golden beard. It was a fine looking craft in every respect;
everything neatly stowed and smartly painted in off-white and fern-green
with varnished wooden decks and wheelhouse.
“That’s a fine looking vessel you have.”
“We like things shipshape around here. The bloke owned that hangar was
the same, everything just so. We don’t like strangers neither.”
This guy didn’t mince his words.
“That’s no problem Blue, John’s the name. Now we’re not
strangers.”
“Guess not. I’m Roo” he said with a toothy smile.
The two men shook hands, a hearty clutch that said a lot.
“It’s early for visitors is all? Nice wheels by the way. My granddad
had one of those new.”
“Thanks Roo, I’m having a look around. Someone said Henrietta's was a
fair place to water.”
“That it is, run by a friend of mine. Funny though, only locals know
bout it?”
“As I said a friend of mine recommended it.”
“Guess he must be local,” said the fisherman. That told John that
George had spent some time here. It could only have been with Uncle
Douglas! Roo looked to be around fifty-five. He was ruddy tanned with light
hair; he was of heavy build from years of hauling nets and fish. The fact
that John knew about Henrietta’s was enough for Roo to quit his
interrogation.
“I’ll be off now, good to meet you John.”
“Likewise Roo,” said John raising three fingers in a casual hand salute.
HENRIETTA'S, SOLDIER'S POINT
Roo headed for the Mary Belle and John headed out to Soldiers Point for
what turned out to be the most delicious sweet cure back bacon rashers and
free-range eggs he’d had for many a year; generous portions as well and
a tangy rye bread toast. The coffee was also fresh ground and orange juice
squeezed that morning. He was being spoiled this restaurant was a find.
The manageress, a homely brunette, seemed to know he was coming and
welcomed him with open arms, a charming smile and very few questions.
“That was pucker,” he said to his hostess finally.
“I wondered if you’d come up for air,” said the lady in a broad
country outback accent.
“I’m Henrietta, are you just passing through?”
He had rather tucked in, maybe giving the impression he was starving,
rather than relishing the fare.
“More having a look round; I’m John.”
“How’d you hear of us John?”
“Err….. a friend of mine mentioned Soldiers Point,” said John.
“Well. I’m pleased to cook for you anytime, you should try my spicy
chicken and cheesecake some time.”
John
returned to the cove two hours later armed with supplies of Henrietta’s
spicy chicken, a large portion of chocolate-fudge cheesecake and several
cans of drinks, still thinking on his delicious breakfast. This time he
opened up the gate wide and parked inside the complex, closing up behind
him. No point playing secret squirrel. Roo would see his Jeep parked in
there, so know a little of John’s visit. But at least the ice had been
broken locally. John was sure that Roo would spread the news and save him
a lot of PR work.
SPRING CLEANING
On went the lights and off came the covers with clouds of choking dust
soon filling the building completely. John looked about for the windows
and extractors and found the roof lights that could be opened for
ventilation and natural light. A powered rolling hoist dangled from the
substantial peak ridge ‘I’ beam, directly over the gleaming alloy
fabrications. There was also a function to move objects sideways, with
another substantial pair of ‘I’ beams at ninety degrees to the ridge-mounted
beam. The hanger was divided into flat workspace and dry dock, which could
be flooded, leading out to the cove and the sea. Finally, John found a
bank of extractor fans and switched all of them on full blast, which
cleared the hangar of dust in minutes.
The alloy sections were on rolling supports some of which could be
manually pushed about. John set about trying to sort the sections into
some logical order. He moved the two smaller tubes to the sides of the
building, then used the overhead crane to position the largest alloy tube
in the centre of the flat workshop floor section. That made sense, but the
space-frames and boat hull sections remained a mystery no matter how he
positioned them on the concrete.
THE TABBY CAT
Fatigued, he went outside into the brilliant sunshine. Six hours had just
flown by. A rather beautiful two-tone silver and grey patterned tabby cat sat
atop a pile of pallets cleaning itself; obviously curious at the noises
coming from inside the building.
How’d you get in here
puss, John
thought to himself? He unwrapped some of the spicy chicken and began
eating and cracked a can of Solar
Cola.
The
chicken was mouth-wateringly succulent and very more-ish. The aroma wafted
across the yard making the cat’s nose twitch. The feline got up and paced about
excitedly. Five minutes more and the cat jumped to the floor and padded
over to John. He smiled and watched amused as it slowly worked its way
closer. It couldn’t take its eyes off the chicken wrappings.
“I know what you’re after.” Said John placing some scraps in the
wrapping on the ground.
The cat guardedly moved closer, sniffing the air.
“Bye, bye kitty,” said John as he carefully stood up and went inside
to continue to unravel the giant metal puzzle inside, “knock yourself
out.”
BACK TO WORK
John closed the door behind him, getting back to work. He needed some
clues. He knew it was a marine alloy structure, which meant either a
floating rig or a boat. A computer took centre stage of a control console,
left of centre along the far wall – he switched it on. A few seconds
later a message was displayed: ‘Hello John.’ In a box on screen a
password was requested. He typed in his date of birth which failed. He
typed in his passport number and that failed. Then he typed in his
mother’s maiden name and the computer sprang into life. John searched
the folders for boat drawings, which pulled up several dozen files in CAD
format. Double clicking on the biggest brought up the plans of a vessel
named: ‘Elizabeth
Swann ST.’ He had no idea what that meant, but it had three tubes at
its base, which matched those in the hanger. A huge locked red tool
cabinet was on the right of the console and mounted on the walls at
various key locations were flat locked doors to other board mounted hand
power tools. The other key in the envelope fitted these locks as well.
After carefully studying the plans, John worked out the sequence for
bolting the lightweight structures together. Several hours later and
having demolished all his snacks and drinks, there before him sat a rather
unusual looking boat. It was obviously designed for speed, but he’d not
found the engine yet.
In the southeast corner of the building was a partitioned room in which
John found a pile of wooden packing crates; again covered by dusty sheets.
This time he removed them carefully, folding then stacking. He went to his
Jeep for his general-purpose canvas tool-bag, which contained several
gorilla bars ideal to pry open the boxes. John was rather disappointed not
to find a huge marine diesel in the biggest crate. He did though find some
elegantly machined water-cooled electric motors and a brilliantly
engineered transmission.
He set to work opening the other crates and found they contained solar
panels. It was like a treasure hunt. One case was crammed full of
instruments and computer equipment. Another had glass, another leather
seats and so on. Six more hours slipped by while he was sorting the
fittings out and he was getting thirsty and tired, so he decided to call
it a day for now, locked up and headed back to Henrietta’s.
From the first time he clapped eyes on it, the sheer scale of the vessel
took John’s breath away. It was a sleek, futuristic design, its hull
gleaming aluminium
under the hangar’s dim lights. He recognized the hydrogen
fuel
cells, a hallmark of his uncle’s engineering genius. The Elizabeth
Swann was clearly designed for extended blue water voyages.
Assembling the hull components, which were neatly stored and labeled,
proved surprisingly straightforward, thanks to Douglas's meticulous
planning. It was as if his uncle had anticipated every step, leaving
behind a trail of breadcrumbs for John to follow. But the real surprise
lay within.
As
he drove off for the night, the silver-grey cat meowed from the yard pallets as it
watched John disappear into the distance.
SECOND
DAY REVELATIONS
Returning to the hanger the next morning, John was eager to learn more. He
opened up and there on a pallet was the attractively marked tabby cat.
"Morning
puss."
The
cat meowed appreciatively, following John inside the hangar.
"Oh,
okay then," John said to the cat, "but keep out of
trouble."
Deep inside the ship, John found it: a vast, climate-controlled chamber
housing a complex network of computers and scientific equipment. At the
heart of it all was HAL, the ship's AI, its presence announced by a soft,
pulsating hum. And then, John saw it. "The Ark."
He’d known about his uncle’s work on digital DNA
archiving. He’d
even seen prototypes on his weekend visits. But this… this was beyond
anything he could have imagined. It had become a vast library of DNA
samples, as he'd been supplying them to his uncle, meticulously catalogued
and stored digitally.
But
that wasn’t all. Connected to The Ark was a device that defied all known
scientific principles: a machine capable of converting digital DNA code
back into a living, breathing biological strand. John watched in stunned
silence as the machine whirred to life, synthesizing a strand of DNA from
a digital file. He couldn't believe his eyes, even as he saw it happening.
Shaken, John called George Franks.
“George,”
he said, his voice trembling slightly, “I… I found it. The Elizabeth
Swann. And… and something else. A device. It… it recreates DNA.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then, George’s voice,
calm and measured, “Yes, John. I know.”
John was taken aback. “You knew? All this time?”
“Douglas confided in me, John. He knew you’d find it eventually. Made
sure you would. He knew you were the one person he could trust with it.”
“But… the implications, George! It’s… it’s revolutionary!”
“Indeed,” George replied. “Your uncle was a visionary, John. He
understood the importance of preserving life, not just on Earth, but with
interplanetary implications as his ultimate objective. He designed The
Ark, and the conversion device, specifically for you.”
"Interplanetary?" John was speechless. “For me? But why?”
“He knew about your passion for anthropology, your dedication to
collecting and archiving the planet’s genetic history. He wanted to give
you the tools to take that work to the next level. He envisioned you as a
kind of… Noah,
safeguarding the genetic heritage of Earth for future generations, perhaps
even seeding it on other worlds.”
The revelation hit John like a ton of bricks. His uncle hadn’t just been
a scientist; he’d been a guardian, a protector, entrusting him with a
power that could change the course of life itself. The weight of that
responsibility settled heavily on John’s shoulders.
“He also knew,” George continued, “that you were… naive, John. Too
trusting. He knew that this technology would be coveted by many, and he
wanted to make sure it was in the hands of someone who would use it
responsibly, someone who understood the true value of life.”
John looked around the vast hangar, at the magnificent ship and the
incredible technology it contained. He realized that his uncle’s
disappearance, the cryptic note, the keys – it was all part of a plan, a
final act of trust from a man he’d admired and loved. He was no longer
just John Storm, the anthropologist. He was John Storm, the inheritor of a
legacy, a guardian of life, and the unwitting player in a game far bigger
than he could have ever imagined.
This
would take time to come to terms with.
SELF
DESTRUCT SAFEGUARDS
The weight of his newfound responsibility pressed heavily on John. He
spent the next few days familiarizing himself with the Elizabeth Swann,
marveling at its advanced technology and the sheer audacity of his uncle's
vision. He ran simulations with HAL, the AI's calm, measured voice a
constant presence in the ship's control room. He explored The Ark, its
vast database of DNA sequences a testament to his uncle's dedication to
preserving life. But the more he learned, the more uneasy he felt.
He
needed more assurance.
"George," John said, his voice tight with worry as he called his
uncle's friend again, "this technology... it's incredible. But it's
also dangerous. What if someone tries to steal it? What if they try to use
it for... for harmful purposes?"
George's voice was reassuring. "Douglas anticipated that, John. The
Elizabeth Swann is equipped with state-of-the-art security measures."
"What kind of measures?" John asked, his anxiety growing.
"For starters," George explained, "the ship has a
sophisticated Taser system that can incapacitate any intruders. It's
non-lethal, of course, but it'll give you time to escape or call for
help."
"And what about HAL?" John asked. "Can't someone just hack
into the AI and take control?"
"HAL is protected by advanced cybersecurity
measures, John. It would take an incredibly sophisticated hacker to even
attempt a breach. And even if they did manage to get through, HAL has
protocols in place to lock down critical systems and protect the
data."
John felt a surge of relief. "That's good to know."
"But that's not all, John," George continued. "The most
important safeguard is built into the DNA
conversion device itself."
"What do you mean?"
"The decoding chip, the heart of the conversion process, an EPROM,
has a self-destruct mechanism. It's hardwired, John. If anyone tries to
tamper with it, or if the ship's security is compromised beyond a certain
point, the chip will destroy itself. The data will be completely
unrecoverable."
John was stunned. "He... he really thought of everything, didn't
he?"
"He did, John. He knew the risks. He wanted to make sure that this
technology wouldn't fall into the wrong hands, no matter what."
John took a deep breath. He understood now. His uncle had not only
entrusted him with a powerful legacy, but he had also given him the means
to protect it. The Elizabeth Swann was more than just a ship; it was a
fortress, a sanctuary for the genetic heritage of Earth. And John, the
once naive anthropologist, was now its guardian, preparing himself to
defend it against any threat.
He looked out at the tranquil waters of Nelson's Bay, the setting sun
painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. He knew that his journey
was far from over. There would be challenges, dangers, and temptations.
But he was readier now that ever before.
Forewarned
is forearmed. He had the Elizabeth Swann, he had HAL, he had The Ark, and
he had the memory of his uncle, guiding him every step of the way.
THE ARSENAL: PENDRAGON MERLIN & EXCALIBUR
John spent days exploring the Elizabeth Swann, uncovering its secrets
layer by layer. Interspersed by trips to Henrietta's. The diner at
Soldier's Point, where they served the most delicious maple bacon and eggs
fry up.
On each return, John felt a growing sense of awe at the ingenuity of his
uncle’s designs. The ship was not just a scientific marvel, but a marvel
of engineering, a testament to Douglas Storm's foresight and his
commitment to protecting his creation.
"HAL," John said, his voice echoing in the ship’s control
room, "I'm still discovering new systems. It's… overwhelming."
"My purpose is to assist you, Captain Storm," HAL responded, its
voice calm and measured. "Please specify your area of inquiry."
"Security," John said. "George mentioned some security
features, but I'd like to understand them in more detail."
"Certainly," HAL replied. "The Elizabeth
Swann is equipped with multiple layers of defense. The first layer is
'Merlin,'
a comprehensive surveillance system that monitors a wide perimeter around
the ship. It utilizes a combination of radar, sonar, and visual sensors to
detect and track potential threats."
"And what happens when Merlin detects a threat?" John asked.
"That depends on the nature of the threat, Captain. For unauthorized
personnel attempting to board the vessel, the first course of action is a
verbal warning, broadcast through external speakers. If the warning is
ignored, the next level of defense is 'Pendragon.'"
"Pendragon?"
John echoed.
"Yes, Captain Storm. Pendragon is our non-lethal deterrent system. It
utilizes directed-energy tasers, capable of incapacitating individuals
without causing permanent harm. The system is named after the legendary King
Arthur, and its purpose is to protect the ship and its contents, much
like Arthur and his knights protected their realm."
John nodded, understanding dawning. "So, Pendragon is a last resort,
a way to subdue intruders without resorting to lethal force."
"Precisely, Captain. However, for more serious threats, such as
hostile vessels, the Elizabeth Swann possesses a more… decisive
deterrent."
"And that is?" John inquired, a hint of apprehension in his
voice.
"’Excalibur,’ Captain Storm,” HAL announced.
John felt a chill run down his spine. “Excalibur?”
he repeated. "The mythical sword?"
“Yes, Captain. 'Excalibur' is a directed-energy weapon, a high-powered
pulsed laser cannon capable of breaching the hull of enemy vessels. It is
a last line of defense, to be used only in extreme circumstances when all
other options have been exhausted.”
John was silent for a moment, absorbing this information. The Elizabeth
Swann was not just a scientific vessel; it was a heavily fortified ship,
capable of defending itself against a wide range of threats. He understood
now the true extent of his uncle's foresight. He had not only created a
vessel capable of exploring the vast ocean free of pollution, but he had
also equipped it with the means to survive in a dangerous and
unpredictable political tangle.
"HAL," John said finally, "thank you. This… this is a lot
to take in."
"My purpose is to serve you, Captain Storm," HAL replied.
"The security protocols are in place to ensure your safety and the
preservation of the Elizabeth Swann and its invaluable cargo."
John nodded and could not help smile to himself.
"Oh,
and Hal."
"Yes
Captain Storm."
"I
would prefer to be addressed as 'John' in all informal
conversations."
"Duly
noted ... John."
John
smiled. "I wouldn't want to be the pirate
taking on this ship."
.....
>>>>>
V
2.0 CHAPTER DESCRIPTION - ILLUSTRATED SPECIAL EDITION
Tanzania
- A young John Storm finds a
Homo Erectus skull and becomes a modern
Noah
Shard
Protest - England, the city of London, John scales the
glass icon, unfurls a banner
Whale
Sanctuary - The Aleutian
Islands, N. Pacific migration begins
to warmer waters
Sydney
Australia - Storm Legacy, Will reading, John meets George Franks
Bat
Cave - John at Nelson's Cove, discovers the
Elizabeth Swann, Hal, Ark,
& befriends tabby cat
Pirates
- Shui Razor and Stang Lee,
whalers leave Nagasaki to hunt
Solar
Race - Hawaii, the venue for a race around the world for
the Solar Cup
Six
Pack - The solar boat race begins, starting line, Sand
Island yacht club
Whaling
Chase - Shui Razor kills Kana, Kulo Luna sinks
'Suzy
Wong' whaling ship & is harpooned
$Billion
Dollar Whale - BBC Jill
Bird hears of the story and online betting begins - Ladbet
Rash
Move - Miles in the lead,
John abandons the solar race to save the wounded whale
Off
Course - Kulo
Luna swims the wrong way, into the South Pacific
Shark
Attack - Trapped in
ghost fishing nets, Kulo Luna is surrounded by hungry great whites
Sick
Whale - Kulo Luna is
bandaged, but is not well, John and Dan are concerned
Medical
SOS - They
radio for Suki Hall,
marine biologist, cetacean expert
Whale
Nurse - Suki Hall
pumps out plastic from Kulo's stomach
The
Coral Sea - Shui and
Stang Lee chase Kulo past the Solomon Islands
K'gari
Island - Kulo
Luna sinks the Jonah
whaling ship near Hervey
Bay, strike two, gives birth
Hervey
Bay - Shui and John
rescue Kuna from
ghost fishing nets
Congratulations
- Shui wins half a $billion
dollars, betting on Kulo Luna to win
John
Storm
with his Homo Erectus
skull, Olduvai Gorge, Tanzania
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