Fireside Books:  Fireside Books in Parksville now has a second location in Port Alberni, The Bookwyrm. Used books are just $5 or less. The Bookwyrm, on the corner of Redford and Anderson, opens seven days a week from 10:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. Fireside Books, at 464 Island Highway East in Parksville, is a book dragon’s dream come true. Browse their extensive collections seven days a week, or order online at firesidebooks.ca and pick up at either location. Ask about returning books for a book credit.

Eddie Van Haddock & The Rockfish:  In a little town by the sea, where the stories never end, lived Captain Dave and his crew, every child’s favourite friend. With a smile as wide as the ocean and a heart that’s full of dreams, he sails a Mellow Submarine where magic gleams and beams. Every morning at sunrise, when the world awakes anew, Captain Dave and his crew set sail in waters deep and blue. Through the ticking clock of time, where adventures come alive, they laugh and learn and play each day in their underwater dive.

Dave Graham: Captain Dave stood at the helm of the Mellow Submarine, watching the morning light scatter across the water near Nanoose Bay. The sea was calm today, a sheet of pale blue glass stretching out toward the horizon, and a light breeze carried the smell of salt and cedar from the shore.

“Beautiful morning for a cruise, Larry,” he said, adjusting his captain’s hat. Larry the Lobster clambered up from below deck, clipboard tucked under one claw as always, though he had forgotten his pencil again. “Indeed it is, Captain. Calm seas, clear skies. The perfect day for a leisurely morning swim, I should think.”

“That’s exactly the plan,” said Captain Dave. “I thought we’d take a little jaunt up toward Hornby Island today. I hear the water’s beautifully clear this time of year, and there are some lovely sandstone beaches up that way.” Larry’s eyes lit up. “Hornby Island! I’ve always wanted to see those famous sandstone formations. I read about them somewhere, or perhaps someone told me about them. In any case, I’m quite certain they are remarkable.”

“They are,” Captain Dave agreed, steering the Mellow Submarine out into open water. “The waves have carved them into all sorts of strange shapes over hundreds of years. Some look like giant honeycombs.”

“Honeycombs,” Larry repeated thoughtfully, scribbling on his clipboard even without a pencil, out of habit. “I shall make a note to be impressed.”

The Mellow Submarine glided smoothly through the water, her solar panels glinting on deck and her propellers turning lazily beneath the surface. Captain Dave hummed a little tune as they cruised past Lasqueti Island, then angled north through the Strait of Georgia, the water growing bluer and clearer the farther they went.

But the Strait of Georgia is not always as calm as it looks. Tucked between Vancouver Island and the mainland, where channels narrow and currents squeeze through gaps in the seabed, the water can move with surprising strength, especially around the tide changes near islands like Hornby and Denman.

“Captain,” said Larry after a while, peering out through one of the portholes, “is it my imagination, or are we moving rather quickly for a leisurely cruise?” Captain Dave glanced at the instrument panel and frowned. The submarine’s speed gauge was climbing even though he hadn’t touched the throttle. “That’s strange,” he murmured. “We’re not going any faster on the motors. Something else is pushing us.”

He checked the navigation screen, and his frown deepened. A long ribbon of darker blue stretched across the display, curling between Hornby Island and the open strait. “We’ve drifted into a current,” Captain Dave said. “A strong one, by the look of it. The tide must be turning, and it’s pulling water through the channel here faster than usual.”

Larry gripped the edge of the control panel with both claws. “Is, is that dangerous, Captain?” “Not dangerous exactly,” said Captain Dave, keeping his voice calm and steady the way he always did. “But it does mean the Mellow Submarine isn’t quite in charge of where she’s going right now. The current is stronger than our motors. We’re being carried along with it.”

“Carried along?” Larry repeated. “Carried along to where, precisely?”

As if in answer, the submarine gave a gentle lurch and began to turn, swept sideways by the rushing water. Outside the portholes, the scenery blurred past faster than before: kelp beds streaming sideways like green ribbons, schools of small fish darting out of the way, the seabed sloping up and away beneath them.

“Toward Hornby Island, it would seem,” said Captain Dave, watching the navigation screen. “The current’s carrying us right along the shore. Hold on, Larry. We’re not in trouble, but we’re along for the ride for a little while.”

Larry held on to the navigation wheel with both claws, his clipboard wedged firmly under one arm. “I’ve always wanted to see Hornby Island up close, Captain, but I confess I imagined a more dignified arrival.”

The Mellow Submarine swept onward, tugged by the current as it curved around a rocky point. Captain Dave kept a steady hand near the controls, ready to act, but he didn’t fight the current head on. He had learned long ago that submarines, like swimmers, do better working with the water than against it.

“Currents like this happen all through these waters,” he explained, mostly to keep Larry’s mind busy and calm. “When the tide comes in or goes out, all that water has to squeeze through narrow channels between the islands. It speeds up, just like a wide river narrowing into a fast stream.”

“Fascinating,” said Larry, in a voice that suggested he found it considerably less fascinating than frightening. “Could you perhaps explain it to me from somewhere we are not moving so quickly?”

Captain Dave chuckled despite himself. “We’ll be all right, Larry. Just let me...”

Before he could finish, something large and black and white flashed past the porthole. Then another, and another. “Captain!” Larry yelped, claws flying up. “What was that?”

Captain Dave peered out into the rushing water and broke into a wide smile. “Well, would you look at that. Orcas.”

A pod of orcas had appeared alongside the submarine, riding the very same current, their powerful bodies cutting through the water with effortless grace, tall dorsal fins slicing the surface above. They rolled and surfaced together, calling to one another in long, eerie whistles and pulses, seemingly undisturbed by the company in the rushing channel. One orca, slightly smaller than the rest, with a notch missing from the trailing edge of her dorsal fin, swam right up against the main porthole and seemed to peer in at Larry with great interest.

“She’s looking at me, Captain,” Larry said, equal parts nervous and thrilled. “What does she want?”

“I think,” said Captain Dave, watching the orca closely, “she’s curious about us. Orcas are some of the most clever creatures in these waters, Larry. They use currents like this one all the time, for travelling, for hunting together, even just for play. Watch how she moves.”

Larry watched. The orca wasn’t fighting the current at all. Instead, she angled her body just slightly, riding with the rushing water, letting the current do most of the work while she steered with small, precise sweeps of her powerful tail.

“She’s not struggling,” Larry observed. “She looks like she’s enjoying herself.”

“Exactly,” said Captain Dave. “She’s reading the water. See how she stays toward the edge of the current? That lets her control where she ends up instead of just getting swept along.”

The pod circled the Mellow Submarine, rising and rolling together, and the notch-finned orca let out a long, bright call that echoed strangely through the water. “I believe,” Larry said slowly, “that she is showing off.”

“Maybe a little,” Captain Dave laughed, “but I think she’s also showing us something useful. Let’s try it. Larry, ease us toward the right edge of the current, nice and gentle. Don’t fight the water, just nudge us sideways bit by bit.”

Larry took the navigation wheel in both claws, his earlier fright melting into focus and determination. “Easing to the right, Captain. Gently does it.”

Slowly, carefully, the Mellow Submarine angled toward the edge of the rushing current, just as the orca had shown them. The pull of the water lessened bit by bit as they moved out of the strongest part of the flow, and the submarine’s own motors began to make a real difference again instead of being completely overpowered.

“It’s working,” Larry exclaimed. “We’re slowing down, Captain. Well, not slowing down exactly. Gaining control, I should say.”

“That’s it,” said Captain Dave, watching the speed gauge ease back toward something more reasonable. “The current is still helping push us along, but now we’re choosing our direction instead of just getting carried.”

The orcas seemed pleased with this development. They circled the submarine in tight, easy loops, and two of the younger ones rolled onto their sides, slapping the water with their tails so that spray glittered into the sunlight above the surface.

As the Mellow Submarine eased out of the strongest part of the current, the sandstone cliffs of Hornby Island came into view through their portholes, their famous honeycombed patterns glowing golden in the morning sun.

Larry gasped. “Captain, look! The honeycombs. Oh, they’re even more remarkable than I imagined.”

The notch-finned orca swam up close once more, her dark eye seeming to study the submarine’s small round window. Larry, feeling braver now, gave a tentative wave with one claw. The orca let out a low, resonant call, and to Larry’s astonishment, rolled slightly to one side as though acknowledging him.

“I do believe she just greeted me, Captain,” Larry said, beaming.

Now that the Mellow Submarine had found calmer water at the current’s edge, Captain Dave turned his attention to the journey home. “Well, Larry, we came up here faster than planned, but I think we’ve learned something useful. What do you say we put it to work and head back toward Nanoose Bay?”

“By all means,” said Larry, “though I confess I’m rather enjoying our escorts.”

As if she understood, the notch-finned orca gave a sharp call, and the whole pod gathered loosely around the submarine as though preparing to lead the way. Captain Dave eased the Mellow Submarine back toward the channel, but this time, instead of getting swept helplessly into the strongest rush of water, he steered deliberately along its gentler edges, using the current’s push without losing control of where they were headed.

The orcas escorted them for a good stretch of the journey, surfacing and rolling alongside their yellow hull, their tall dorsal fins rising and falling like a small fleet of dark sails, before peeling away one by one to continue their own travels through the strait. The notch-finned orca was last to go, circling the submarine once more, giving a final low call before disappearing into the blue with a powerful sweep of her tail.

“Goodbye, friend,” Larry called after her, waving his claw earnestly. “Thank you for the lesson.”

“I’m sure she’ll remember you,” said Captain Dave kindly, steering the Mellow Submarine back along the familiar waters toward Nanoose Bay.

As the sandstone cliffs of Hornby Island slipped away behind them, the current that had swept them off course was now just a smooth, distant ribbon of darker blue on their navigation screen.

“Captain,” Larry said after a while, settling into his usual spot by the porthole, “I have been thinking about that current. This morning, I was quite certain it was the worst thing that could happen to us, and yet here we are, having seen Hornby Island’s famous cliffs, made the acquaintance of a remarkable pod of orcas, and learned something rather important about currents in the process. It seems the things that sweep us off course are not always so bad as they first appear.”

Captain Dave nodded slowly. “That’s a fine thought, Larry. Sometimes the water has its own plans for us, and the smartest thing we can do isn’t to fight against it with everything we’ve got. It’s to pay attention, find the edges, and steer with what the current gives us instead of struggling against the whole of it.”

“Like the orca,” said Larry.

“Like the orca,” Captain Dave agreed.

The sun climbed higher as the Mellow Submarine cruised steadily homeward, her motors humming quietly. Behind them, somewhere in the blue waters near Hornby Island, a pod of orcas continued their travels, riding the very currents that had brought them a small yellow submarine and her two unlikely sailors on an adventure neither of them had planned, but both would remember for a very long time.

By the time the familiar shoreline of Nanoose Bay came into view, with its quiet coves and cedar-lined hills, Larry had already filled three pages of his clipboard with notes about orcas, currents, and sandstone cliffs, despite still not having found his pencil.

“Home again,” said Captain Dave, guiding the Mellow Submarine gently toward their usual anchorage as the afternoon light turned gold across the water.

“Home again,” Larry echoed contentedly. “Though I shouldn’t mind if the current decided to sweep us off somewhere interesting again sometime soon. Within reason, of course.”

“Within reason,” Captain Dave agreed with a smile and a wink, as the Mellow Submarine settled quietly into the calm waters of the bay, her adventure complete, and her crew already anticipating what the tides might bring next.

Eddie Van Haddock & The Rockfish:  When the night falls softly, and stars light up the sky, Captain Dave tucks his crew in with a gentle lullaby. Dreams of whales and mermaids, of treasures lush and green, await each little sailor aboard the Mellow Submarine.

Fireside Books:  Fireside Books in Parksville now has a second location in Port Alberni, The Bookwyrm. Used books are just $5 or less. The Bookwyrm, on the corner of Redford and Anderson, opens seven days a week from 10:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. Fireside Books, at 464 Island Highway East in Parksville, is a book dragon’s dream come true. Browse their extensive collections seven days a week, or order online at firesidebooks.ca and pick up at either location. Ask about returning books for a book credit.