The Green Tourist and the Temple Bell

Log entry, the Catch Scarlet Queen, Philip Carney Master. Position, 10 degrees, 20 minutes north, 107 degrees, 45 minutes east.

Sky fair, wind fresh. Remarks, departed Barria after losing two passengers. Reasonful loss, the green tourist and the temple bell. The port of Barria swelters 10 degrees above the equator on the southern coast of the leg of land that holds French into China. An hour spent there is too long, but I've known unscheduled ships like the Scarlet Queen to lay there for months before a cargo material

eyes out of the dilapidated warehouses that fringe the muddy, unkempt harbor. Due to our connection with the China traders, we were there only three days before we started loading a cargo of supplies for our company's trading station in Port Moresby, New Guinea.

Not two hours after the wine of our winches and the swing of our cargo boom started to tell a harbor that we'd be headed out soon. Two Americans arrived to buy passage across the China Sea to British North Bornean.

Captain Carney? Yeah. My name is Matthias Captain. Edmund Matthias. Oh yeah, China Trade His Office told us to expect you, sir. This was my son Stanley. How glad now you're staying. Thanks, Captain. Might be happy to be aboard.

There were easy people to know. By nightfall when we were loaded and only waiting for the dawn tied to sail, We were sharing our laughs and hopes with them, and had learned that theirs was a journey of leisure after years in Nevada, spent dreaming about the wonders and glory of the Orient.

I was in my cabin that evening, making a final check of my bills of lading, and my chief made Gallagher a take in Stan and his father up into town for a final drink. I got to the end of my list and was halfway into a fresh jumper when I heard feet hit the gangway