So, while Daniel clambered all over Melville, tightening latches and neatening coils, I stretched out on the stern bench and tried to relax enough to nap. Not easy, even rocked by the early swell. Eventually, the Smith launch puttered in, slow and steady, with her empty raft bobbing behind. This good news finally let me sleep.

Next I knew, there was a wet wind gusting up my nose and Daniel shaking me awake.

“What’s up?”

“Not sure yet. Some of Doyle’s core muscle just hammered in, armed to the teeth. The watch went in to get him.”

It was noonish, judging by the angle of light, which was already greenish and storm-heavy. Zephyr and the Zodiac bobbed beside loaded tow rafts at the uptown end of the Lagoon, ready for their next trip. No sign of the Smith launch. Several other rafts were being stocked, but the Lagoon looked emptied and the work frenzy had slowed. Denfolk were sacked out on every horizontal surface.

I sat up, shaking off my drowse. “Where are all the boats?”

“Upriver,” Daniel said. “Since the first group returned safely, Rousseau stepped up the pace. The power boats have made a second round trip. Wind’s with us and the tide just turned, so the guys from Riverhome rigged sails and rudders for the rafts without a tow.”

“Riverhome’s here now?”

“A bunch showed up while you were asleep. They’ve sent their own boats up already, filled with cargo. They’re hoping we’ll have room for passengers.”

“Will we?”

“Better have. Some will crew the rafts.”

A shriek of whistles overlaid sudden shouting from inside Unca Joe.

“I don’t care if he’s sleeping! Get him up! Get him out here! Get them all out here!” Tom Doyle stormed out of the den and dropped down the ladder into his waiting Chris-Craft. But he wasn’t leaving. He pulled alongside the most central float in the Lagoon, carpeted with napping workers, and bounded out, his long vest flapping in the wind.

“Up! Everyone up! We’ve got a situation!” He stalked around, nudging the nappers with his booted foot, then took up a waiting pose. He could shout from there. His recently arrived patrol crews stationed their boats around the perimeter of the Lagoon and sat in idle. Act II of his performance, perhaps?

On the roof, Breakers stirred. “What’s he on about now?”

“Are they keeping others out or us in?” I asked.

Daniel grunted. “Looks like there’s news.”

“Maybe it’s a coup,” Breakers offered snidely.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

“Nah. Tommy doesn’t want to run things. He just wants to make the biggest noise.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure.”

Doyle began to pace. “Listen up, everyone! This is not a test!” He sent broad ripples around the Lagoon as the float shifted with him. “The Stormies are rallying!”