A Story of the People of the Sea The adventure begins when Johnny, who has run away from home and hidden aboard an intercontinental hovership, is shipwrecked in the middle of the South Pacific Ocean. Stranded on a raft, and in an apparently hopeless situation, he is propelled by a pack of dolphins towards an island in the Great Barrier Reef, a famous centre for Dolphin Research. Professor Kazan, the director of research, shares Johnny's bewilderment as to the reason for the dolphin rescue operation and arranges for Johnny to stay on the island to assist in unravelling the mystery. In the chapters that follow, Johnny learns how to communicate with dolphins, explores the coral reef, goes skin-diving at night, survives a fearful hurricane, unearths a horrifying underwater conspiracy, and, in an intensely exciting final episode, makes a dangerous 100 mile tip on surfboard towed, turn and turn about, by his two closest dolphin friends.
Johnny Clinton was sleeping when the hovership raced down the valley, floating along the old turnpike on its cushion of air. The whistling roar in the night did not disturb him, for he had heard it almost all his life. To any boy of the twenty-first century, it was a sound of magic, telling of far-off countries and strange cargoes carried in the first ships that could travel with equal ease across land and sea.
No, the familiar roar of the air jets could not awaken him, though it might haunt his dreams. But now it had suddenly stopped, here in the middle of Transcontinental Thruway 21. That was enough to make Johnny sit up in bed, rubbing his eyes and straining his ears into the night What could have happened? Had one of the great land-liners
Well, there was one way to find out. For a moment he hesitated, not wishing to face the winter cold. Then he plucked up his courage, wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, quietly eased up the window, and stepped out onto the balcony.
It was a beautiful, crisp night, with an almost full Moon lighting up every detail of the sleeping landscape. Johnny could not see the turnpike from the southern side of the house, but the balcony ran completely around the old-fashioned building, and it took him only seconds to tiptoe around to the northern face. He was especially careful to be quiet when passing the bedrooms of his aunt and cousins; he knew what would happen if he woke
But the house slept soundly beneath the winter Moon, and none of his unsympathetic relatives stirred as Johnny tiptoed past their windows. Then he forgot all about them, for he saw that he had not been dreaming.
The hovership had left the wide lane of the turnpike and, with lights blazing, lay on flat ground a few hundred yards to the side of the Thruway. Johnny guessed that it was a freighter, not a passenger liner, for there was only one observation deck, and that ran for only part of the vessel’s five hundred feet of length. The ship looked, Johnny could not help thinking, exactly like a giant flatiron—except that instead of a handle running lengthwise, there was a streamlined bridge crosswise, a third of the distance back from the bows. Above the bridge a red beacon was flashing on and off, warning any other craft that might come this way.
She must be in some kind of trouble, thought Johnny. I wonder how long she’ll be here? Time for me to run down and have a good look at her? He had never seen a hovership at close quarters—at least, not one at rest. You didn’t see much when they roared past at three hundred miles an hour.
It did not take him long to make up his mind. Ten minutes later, hurriedly dressed in his warmest clothes, he was quietly unbolting the back door. As he stepped out into the freezing night, he never dreamed that he was leaving the house for the last time. And even if he had known, he would not have been sorry.
The closer Johnny approached it, the more enormous the hovership appeared. Yet it was not one of the giants like the hundred-thousand-ton oil or grain carriers that sometimes went whistling through the valley; it probably grossed only fifteen or twenty thousand tons. Across its bows it bore the words SANTA ANNA, BRASILIA in somewhat faded lettering. Even in the moonlight, Johnny had the distinct impression that the whole ship could do with a new coat of paint and a general cleanup. If the engines were in the same state as the patched and shabby hull, that would explain this unscheduled halt.
There was not the slightest sign of life as Johnny circumnavigated the stranded monster. But this did not surprise him; freighters were largely automatic, and one this size was probably run by less than a dozen men. If his theory was correct, they would all be gathered in the engine room, trying to find what was wrong.
Now that she was no longer supported by her jets, the
Johnny looked thoughtfully at these openings. Of course, they were probably locked; but what would happen if he
He did not hesitate any longer, but started to climb the nearest ladder. About fifteen feet from the ground he had second thoughts, and paused for a moment.