A few days later Hazel came huffing and puffing up the road.
“I forgot how far it was!” she gasped. “I needed the exercise though, just look at me.”
Although she did need the exercise I only smiled and invited her in.
“Oh my,” she said, “the house looks so different from when Bernice lived here. She was always a little stuffy though and had to have everything just so. This is much more comfortable. I feel like I can actually walk on the carpet without taking my shoes off! You aren’t a stuffy housekeeper, are you?”
“I don’t think so,” I answered, unsure exactly how she had intended her comment to be taken. “I still need to do something with the walls. Before Rusty and I moved in we were living in a tiny condo and he hadn’t bothered much with decorating. So I am still looking for ways to personalize the house. Come in and sit down.”
I led her into the living room and sat down on the couch, wondering if I had ever sat on it since having it delivered. Rusty and I always went to the den when we wanted to sit. It was warmer, cozier and more familiar while the living room felt like part of someone else’s house.
“Can I get you anything?” I offered.
“No, I’m fine. I just wanted to tell you what I found out about Mark. He went to Santa Cruz Island a week and a half ago. He got off at Prisoners Harbor and as far as they know he didn’t return with any of their boats. He had bought a camping permit and filed the waiver required to hike through the Nature Conservancy. They wouldn’t tell me any of this over the phone though. I had to take all the documents I could to their office and spoke with them in person. I suppose I’m glad they don’t release information about their visitors to just anybody. I guess it’s a good thing, but I had to throw a royal temper tantrum to get my way.”
I was sure Hazel was quite capable of throwing a royal temper tantrum. In fact, I had been counting on it.
“So Mark has been on the island for a week and a half and he only planned on being there a week?” I asked.
She nodded pitifully.
“The islands are a national park. They have rangers there. Did you talk to any of them?”
“I talked to a nice man in a uniform at the museum. He was trying to be helpful but I could tell he never went out to the island. His job was to sell t-shirts, postcards and nature books. He could answer all kinds of questions about the islands but not about tourists. Oh, I take that back, he did know something about the people but it was the Indians who first lived on the island. He told me a lovely story about the Indians there, the Chumash, but nothing about where Mark could have gotten lost.”
“Mark didn’t get lost,” I said. “It takes talent to get lost on an island that size. The mainland is to the east and the ocean is to the west so that automatically defines north and south. Mark knows his directions and knew the trails even before setting out. He didn’t get lost. Wild animals wouldn’t have attacked him and the scariest animal on the island is a skunk. Maybe he got skunked and wouldn’t board the boat.”
She laughed nervously.
“If he saw a skunk I hope he got a picture of it.” I continued, “Skunks are really cute and the skunks on the island aren’t afraid of people at all so he could get a really good picture of one.”
“I think he was looking for a fox,” Hazel said. “There is a fox that only lives on that island. It’s on the endangered species list and he was determined to find one and photograph it. He had a short list of animals he was looking for but admitted that a week wasn’t much time to find them. He knew he probably wasn’t going to find them all but he really wanted to photograph a fox.”
“So he had food and water for a week? There’s no potable water on the island. His pack would have been heavy if he was carrying a week’s worth of water.”
“How do you know so much about the island?” Hazel inquired suspiciously.
“I don’t. I looked it up on the Internet and I have done a lot of backpacking so I know how much water weighs. I’ve had to pack my own water many times.”
“What should my next step be?” she asked.
“You need to talk to someone who has actually been out there, the rangers or campers. Ask them if they talked to Mark. Find out if anyone has seen him and how long ago it was.”
“I can’t do that. I’m just an old lady. I can’t go hiking around an island. He was staying at a campground three miles from the pier. I can’t manage a climb like that. It’s impossible.”
I agreed, if the walk between our houses had winded her she shouldn’t venture out to the island. I was grateful Hazel was a talker though. She was giving me plenty of information whether she knew it or not. I was planning the search in my head while at the same time vehemently denying that I would go out there at all. Rusty would not be happy. Strict would definitely discourage me. The authorities would not like me taking matters into my own hands, but I planned anyway. My mind was just too active to sit idle with so much fresh information to work with. I had to do something with it so I planned silently while using polite conversation to encourage Hazel to continue talking.
“Oh! And I almost forgot,” she exclaimed, “the nice man at the museum sold me this map! I thought I could figure out where Mark went if I saw a map, but I’m not very good at reading maps and it is terribly confusing to me.”
Now this interested me. This was something I could work with!
“Can I see it?” I asked enthusiastically. “Let’s go to the dining room where we can spread it out.”
Yes! I thought as I saw the details unfold. I found Prisoners Harbor and located a couple of camps that were about three miles from the pier. I then pinpointed where the ranger stations were located. This was doable, I thought. It was a lot of land to cover and the tracking would be next to impossible but I wanted to try it. I could talk to the rangers. I could hike the trails. I was fairly certain I could spot where a person had left the trail. The only thing that I didn’t like was that I had expected Mark to head for the interior of the island in the Natural Conservancy while all the ranger stations were in the national park area of the island. It would be a long hike for help if I needed it. In fact, as I studied the map the trails in the two sections of the island didn’t appear to connect. I would be cut off from help by a half hour boat ride and the boats only came twice a day.
“Tell me about Mark,” I said. “If he were photographing animals where would he go? Would he take his time in one area or would he try and cover as much territory as he could in the hopes of stumbling across more animals?”
“He would find a central location, away from people, where he thought there might be animals, and then stay there unless someone pointed him in another direction.”
“What about the coastline? Do you know if he was planning on investigating the coast, maybe photographing the seals and sea lions?”
“Anything is possible with Mark. If he did photograph the sea lions he would rent a kayak to get in closer but he wouldn’t spend a lot of time with them since he can take pictures of sea lions and harbor seals any time. He was looking for animals that were harder to find and possibly endangered.”
“Can I borrow the map? I want to show it to a friend of mine and see what he thinks.”
“Of course, if I need it I know where to find it.”
Rusty sat patiently while I explained my thoughts.
“My plan is to get on the boat in Ventura and get off at Scorpion Canyon. I can talk to campers and rangers there. If Mark rented a kayak to photograph sea life he probably did it at Scorpion landing. There are a couple of miles of coast right near the pier where sea lions and seals hang out. I’d rent a kayak and paddle up and down the sea lion rocks for a day. Then the next day I’ll hop on the boat and go to Prisoners Harbor. Hazel said he was planning on staying at a camp three miles from the pier at Prisoners Harbor. There are only two camps and the one in the central valley has several trail loops he could have taken to look for wildlife. The other one is on a trail by itself and there aren’t as many options there as there are in the central valley. Plus the vegetation is more varied in the central valley. You have woods and grasslands both. I think if he were looking for animals that’s where he would go. Look,” I said, pointing out the area on the map, “four days worth of loops right from this one camp. If I were him that’s where I’d go.”
“But you’re not him,” Rusty pointed out.
“Okay,” I countered, “what would you do?”
“Okay, that’s what I would do too. But on the way back I would take this longer trail back to cover more ground.”
“What should I do if he needs help?” I asked. This was a major concern for me. It looked like help would be a long time coming.
“All you could do, unless the rangers can outfit you with a radio, is catch the next boat, make arrangements with the authorities and then lead them back.”
“But that could take a whole day if the boat isn’t going back to Scorpion landing!”
“Exactly. That’s what makes this whole search a complicated mess. That’s why you should leave it to the teams there.”
“Can’t we just go to Scorpion Canyon, talk to the rangers, and see what can be done? If we can’t do anything at least we’ll be able to rent kayaks and have fun. We can see some nice coastline and maybe some seals and then have lunch at the picnic grounds. Hazel can’t go over there. She barely made it to our house when she walked over. I’d feel better for having done something and maybe we can get the ball rolling. Then we can at least say we tried to help them and it might turn into a fun day.”
“Cass, if they say ‘no’ then you won’t have a fun day, and if they decide to do something you’ll want to be in on it. You won’t patiently kayak up and down the coast. As long as there is a chance you can help, you’ll want to be in on the action.”
“Well, can we just kind of wander over there as tourists and do some looking around?”
“You’re talking about a seven day trip. No, I can’t take off seven days on short notice right after a two week honeymoon. It can’t be done.”
“Can you take off one day, kayak Scorpion Point with me until I leave from Prisoners Harbor? You can pick me up in six days.”
“You’re really set on this, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry, Rusty, I can’t just let this drop. I need to at least try. There’s nothing there that can hurt me. There’s no way to get into trouble on the island. I don’t know how to scuba dive so I won’t become shark bait.”
“Then what happened to Mark?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”