We approached Raoul Island from the west, which was the opposite side of the conservation station. The blue feeling faded quicker than it had when we approached from the other side. That didn’t bode well for there not being another anomaly close. Would something not blue cancel its influence? I would assume so.

  There was a large bay ringed by steep bush-covered cliffs, like a third of a crater, where the rest was underneath us. Seriously, it would be like the horror story of a novel, but it is real and called Denham Bay. Satellite photos show other craters, such as Green Lake and Blue Lake. It was the Green Lake that erupted in ‘06.

  We anchored Ocean Blue, and Soph and Carla took Murray ashore in the dinghy. Eliza and Barb flew over. Rich stood on the deck looking longingly at them.

  “Sorry, mate,” I said. You won’t fit in the dinghy, and I am not sure how we would get you back on board if you swam.” I had some thoughts about using the winch for the dinghy, but I didn’t want to try it.

  “Oh, shit.”

  Rich decided he wanted to go ashore, so he jumped into the water and swam. Now, I have to work out a way to get him back on board. I should have done it earlier in case he fell overboard. The dinghy winch would lift him, although the weight limit was being pushed. I would need to make a harness to fit.

  What could I use? We had rope, so Ata and I started figuring out how to turn it into a harness. The internet is a big help. Somebody would have to go into the water and get the rope over him, but we didn’t have to lift him far. Fortunately.

  Rich was running up and down the beach like a puppy. The boat was not good for him either. Boats are fucking horrible things.

  Soph and Carla disappeared into the bush. This is not a horror story. It is an overcast day on a deserted Island. The dark and stormy night was two nights ago. Shit. How can I fucking relax now? That is a classic starter for a horror story.

  We had no way to talk with Carla and Soph except our laborious pulsing. There was no cell phone coverage here. We had set up a Wifi on the boat, but we didn’t envision needing it to go further than a standard house signal.

  They still had yet to reappear from the bush. I had not had any pulses, so I didn’t panic. I was unsettled. I went to the locker, got out one of the rifles and checked it, leaving it handy in the helm.

  Ata raised an eyebrow at me. I ignored her. Carla and Soph probably only have knives on them. Raoul Island had no large land predators; it had bird colonies, fish, and turtles. Supposedly. Rich was there. They should be fine. He should be the largest predator on the island.

  About an hour later, Carla and Soph appeared on the beach again. Carla pushed the dinghy into the water and motored out to us. Soph stayed ashore. We were only a couple of hundred meters from shore, so it didn’t take long.

  “There is a monitoring station a few hundred metres back from the beach,” she said. “I am going to grab the camping gear to camp overnight unless there is another bay you prefer.”

  “This is as sheltered as we will get, I think,” Ata said. “The worker's accommodation is on the island's northern side, but I think this is better for the boat.”

  “Great. Do you guys want to come ashore?”

  “I’ll come,” I said. “I can swim back.” I grabbed the rifle and added it to the gear she put into the dinghy.

  “Really?” She asked.

  “I have an uneasy feeling,” I said.

  She let it go.

  “I will stay on the boat for now. I will come for a walk ashore later,” Ata said.

  “Great. Soph and I want to walk to the top of the hills there and see what is around. We will wait for you.”

  “Someone should stay with the boat,” I said. “I will bring the dinghy back, and Ata and I can swap. I don’t feel good about this place.”

  “We need to buy some handheld radios for communication,” Ata said. “We didn’t think of that. Should get some at Fiji.”

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  I went with Carla and helped them set up the tents and a campsite not far from the monitoring station, a building the size of a single garage. I walked around a bit. There was a large swampy area nearby, and none of my senses found anything unexpected. I went into the base of the hill and up and down the beach, and it all looked OK. It smelled OK. I heard nothing but birds and Rich.

  It was too OK.

  After an hour, I took the dinghy back to the Ocean Blue, and Ata went ashore. I made her take one of the shotguns. She could fire it as a signal, if nothing else.

  I got another rifle out and ready. I got out a spear gun and a knife and went for a swim around the Cat. I went down to the seabed. The seabed was steep, dropping quickly out of sight. The water smelled OK. There was nothing unusual I could hear. I did hear some schools of fish and some sharks feeding on them, but nothing unusual.

  I got back on the boat, and I settled in to wait. The sea was calm. It was overcast, but the clouds were high up.

  Everything seemed normal. I was not happy.

  I did doze on the deck. I was still doing the midnight to dawn shift, so I needed to sleep.

  Everything was fine when I woke in the late afternoon. I saw Soph walking Rich along the edge of the beach, and that might be Murray hopping along beside her on the grass. They were back from their hike.

  I check all my senses, with and without essence—no change, but no blue flavour either.

  I swam ashore, and we ate dinner on the beach. Solid ground does have some appeal.

  Ata and I took the dinghy back to the boat for the night. She preferred the boat bed to a camp bed. Murray needed more time to get grounded.

  Because we were anchored, a watch wasn’t needed, but I stayed up anyway, trying to work out what was bugging me.

  I don’t know what is fucking bugging me, and it is bugging me!

  I slept in the main lounge rather than my cabin.

  I woke at dawn, and fog blanketed the bay—eerie fog on a spooky island, which is an active volcano. This is a fucking horror movie. I half expected King Kong to appear. At least there are no natives sacrificing maidens.

  I checked my link with Carla on shore, and she seemed asleep. Was she asleep, or was that like when she was unconscious? Soph is there with all the bonds. They are fine. They are!

  Fucking hell, what is wrong with me?

  The sun rose and started to burn away the fog. It is going to be a glorious sunny day.

  I went for a swim. I might have gone close enough to shore to sense Rich, and he was fine. I had my spear gun and went looking for breakfast. There were mussels on the rocks at the end of the bay, and I levered them off with my knife—Mussel fritters for breakfast. I collected them in the net bag I carried. I swam back to the boat and raised Ata, and we took the dinghy to the shore camp. I started making the fritters as the others rose.

  I spotted Barb flitting around, catching insects for her breakfast. I couldn’t see the evil parrot anywhere. Murray came out of the tent after Soph and started chewing grass. Rich merely raised his head and watched.

  “I want to stay another day,” Soph said. “Murray has just settled down, and it is another three days to Fiji.”

  I stayed silent. A feeling is not a good reason to move on. Or maybe it is. I stayed silent.

  After breakfast, I said,” I want to go and see the other creators, these blue and green lakes.”

  “They are only about 3km that way,” Soph said. “We saw them from the top of the hill but didn’t go down. The island is not that large. It is just steep and bush.”

  “We could sail around,” Ata suggested.

  “A walk will be good for me,” I said.

  “I will come,” said Carla.

  “I will stay here with Murray and the others,” Soph said.

  “I will stay with you for a while, Soph,” Ata said. “Then there are things I want to do on the Ocean Blue.”

  “Like nap?” I said.

  “Yes,” Ata said, “Like nap.”

  Carla and I set off. Barb followed us for a while. Carla showed me where they climbed the hill. It was really a cliff in places and was indeed climbing. The bush was thick and low. I was constantly using my machete.

  I saw the edge of a lake through the trees at the top of the hill. I should call it the edge of the crater, as that is what it was. The lake was steaming. That is not a good sign.

  “It is steaming. Should we go down?” I asked Carla.

  “What is bugging you? Are we likely to find an answer down there?”

  “What’s bugging me is my electroreceptors and the essence of this part of the world. It was blue and getting stronger, but here there is no colour. It is like an empty patch, but a few hours sail away, it is predominantly blue,” I said.

  “Do you want to sail out and check where it changes?” Carla asked.

  “That is a good idea. I don’t think the lakes are going to tell us anything.”

  “It tells us geothermal activity is rising,” Carla said.

  “It does. Have you felt any quakes or anything?”

  “No.”

  “Let’s head back, and we can discuss what to do.”

  We turned back just as the first quake shook the island.