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Brian MD Ratty. Tillamook Passage
Introduction
Acknowledgments
Chapter One: The Winds of Change
WHARF RATS
PROSPECTS
LADY WASHINGTON
Chapter Two: The Fur Trade
OUTWARD BOUND
CAPE VERDES
THE FALKLANDS
Chapter Three: Cape Horn
PASSAGE TO THE PACIFIC
NORTH BY NORTHWEST
THE LAND OF TILLAMOOK’S
Chapter Four: The Coastal Indians
TURNING POINT
ABOARD THE ORPHAN
COURAGE
OUR FATE
Chapter Five: The Spirit of the Indians
MAKING MY WAY
SCHEMES
PROSPECTS LOST AND GAINED
Chapter Six: The Tillamook People
WINTER FESTIVAL
AWAKENED
THE CABIN
Chapter Seven: Tillamook Culture
NEW CHALLENGES
CRIES OF LIFE
NEW HORIZONS
Chapter Eight: Fading Footprints
SPIRIT JOURNEY
THE LOST YEAR
JOURNEY TO THE SOUTHLANDS
Chapter Nine: Reunited
DARK PASSAGE
BITTERSWEET
SKUNK CREEK
Chapter Ten: Five Cents an Acre
SEASONS
SHIFTING SANDS
CLARK’S HOUSE
Chapter Eleven: Encroachment
FORT CLATSOP
THE TRADING POST
FINAL PASSAGE
Chapter Twelve: Outward Bound
BOSTON
Maps
Отрывок из книги
TILLAMOOK PASSAGE IS MY THIRD BOOK AND a departure from my first two novels. The seeds of this story started many years ago, when I read about Captain Robert Gray and his discovery of a pristine Pacific coastal bay that he named, after the local Indians, as Tillamook. Then, some years later, the story took root after my wife, Tess, and I found an out-of-print book about the culture and rituals of the Tillamook Indians. These two events forged the general premise of a story that is steeped in history while rich in adventure.
Writing historical fiction, in this age of political correctness, can be a tricky enterprise. Some readers wish to overlook the past, pretending that our forefathers were without fault and that the world was always a peaceful, gentle place. Unfortunately, that isn’t how history works. Remember, for example, that the very first ‘cash crop’ shipped back to Europe from the fledging colony of Jamestown, in the seventeenth century, was tobacco. America’s early financial foundation was primarily built upon the growth and sale of tobacco. Then, immediately after the Revolutionary War, ships were sent to the Pacific Northwest for the taking and trading of pelts. Essentially, the Pacific coast frontier was opened because of the skins of small animals like the otter and beaver. At that time, the local Indians, thousands of them, lived peacefully up and down the Pacific coastal plain. Most of them had never seen a ship or a white man, and they had no concept of guns or money. They were a simple people, living off the land and raising their families just as their ancestors had done for over five hundred generations. These Indians became tragic victims of the fur trade and the opening of the frontier. Within a single generation, the culture and lives of these people would be changed forever. No, history isn’t always pretty, but it’s always fascinating, and it is a window to what has already been. For if we don’t truly come to understand our checkered past, we will be doomed to repeat it.
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IT WAS HARD, RETURNING TO MY CLERKING duties with the knowledge that in a few months I would be at sea. And those months seemed to drag on and on, with the only news of the venture coming from Mr. Crumwell. In late June, he told me that both the Columbia and the Lady Washington were receiving extensive repairs and reconditioning in a shipyard up the coast. He added that the work was proceeding on schedule and should be completed by the end of August. That bit of news lifted my spirits and filled my head with visions of what was to come.
On the third of July, I turned nineteen. I mention this for only one reason: it wasn’t our family’s tradition to celebrate birthdays. On this occasion, however, both my brother and father gave me a gift, and we had a gleeful time. My brother had stitched a leather pouch for me, complete with shoulder strap. The inside was for my drawing paper and charcoals, so that I could bring back sketches of where I went and what I saw. He had even added two small compartments that were for my flute halves, so that I might always have my music by my side. It was a heartfelt gift, one I deeply appreciated.
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