Carol Brady's diary:
August 14, 1972
Once again, I was too upset to write yesterday. Everything turned out all right, but I was very worried for a few hours. The Skipper said he and Gilligan were going to take the boys to some of their old stomping grounds, a guys' only thing, although Mike was working. I trust the two sailors like they're the kids' uncles, so I didn't think anything of it.
But they left at noon and were still gone when it was almost dinnertime. Alice thought they all just lost track of time, but I pointed out that it wasn't like any of them to miss a meal.
I asked the girls about it, but they said nobody told them anything. In fact, Cindy, who has her tomboy side, pouted about being left out of the fun.
Then Mary Ann asked to speak to me privately. She said that Gilligan didn't say where they were going, but he did give her his hotel key and he said, "If I'm real late, you have my permission to go look at the very end of my diary."
I thought this was strange, but then it is Gilligan. And I figured it wasn't an invasion of his privacy if he gave her permission. She invited me along, and of course I went.
I did feel a little guilty about rummaging through the men's dressers, but I was worried about my sons. At least it was easy to tell Gilligan's clothes from the Skipper's, by size.
She's the one who found the diary and she flipped to the back. She found a little hand-drawn map, which she ripped out. It even included the bus the guys took.
Mike was back from work by this point. He got the company car Mr. Howell provided, and he drove me, Mary Ann, and David to the location on the map. Alice stayed behind to look after the girls.
Along the way, Mary Ann told us about the Skipper thinking that Bobby's little tiki statue was "tabu," cursed. He convinced the boys that the tiki caused all the bad things that have happened, including ones I didn't know about, like a wall-hanging almost hitting Bobby! I'm not superstitious, in general, but I could see how all these accidents, and near-accidents, all involving people who were wearing the necklace at the time, would seem to need some sort of explanation, supernatural or otherwise.
David said that his generation doesn't really believe in that stuff, but some of the island elders do. He told us that the Skipper was asking him the day before about where to find sacred ancient treasures, but David thought he just wanted to go to a museum. Then after awhile, he had more of an idea what the Skipper wanted, although not why, so he told him about the burial grounds of the ancient kings of the island, located in a series of caves. The Skipper must've decided they needed to take the tiki to those burial grounds, and convinced the others to go along.
So that's where we headed. When we arrived, we found a trail of popcorn, which Mary Ann thought was left by either Gilligan or Bobby, since they both love popcorn. I said it might've been left by somebody else, but Mike pointed out that birds would've eaten it all after a day or two.
We followed the trail and found the entrance to a cave, with an empty popcorn bucket outside. We went in and called out to the Skipper, Gilligan, and the boys. They all yelled back.
It turned out that they were lost in the caves, but they were able to follow our voices. Mary Ann hugged the Skipper and Gilligan, while I hugged my sons. Mike scolded them all for wandering off like this because of a silly superstition, while David shook his head.
I said, "Well, at least you're all right."
Bobby said, "Yeah, but the Professor sure isn't, after the Skipper punched him out!"
We were of course confused, since Roy Hinkley was back on Blenford. But Bobby meant Hubert Whitehead, an archaeology professor.
Peter said, "He says he turned his back on the academic commune, because they ignored the find he found."
Gilligan added, "Yeah, and some other professor got all the credit."
Greg sighed. "He's a little crazy. He threatened us because he thought we were out to steal what he found in these caves."
David protested, "But these treasures belong to the people of the island, and we've known about them for centuries."
Mike asked, "Where is he? I want to have a word with him."
The five of them looked at each other and then the Skipper admitted, "To be honest, he's probably still passed out. I hit him pretty hard. I was trying to protect Gilligan and the kids."
Mary Ann said, "There's no point in calling out to him. Why don't we head back to the hotel and then we can call the police. On Professor Whitehead I mean."
That sounded like a reasonable plan, so we all headed back to the car. It could of course fit nine of us, since that's the only kind of car Mike drives since our marriage, when he does drive. Well, the Skipper is bigger than Cindy, but we managed.
We got back to the hotel and Mike called the police. Then we all went out to dinner, with Alice and the girls, and had a lot to talk about.
The police haven't found Prof. Whitehead yet, but they'll let us know when they do, since the fellas will have to make statements. I'm glad things didn't turn out worse, but maybe the tiki was bad luck, or at least dealing with it was. (Bobby says he lost it somewhere in the caves.)
First mate's log:
August 15, 1972
Well, we got rid of the tiki, sort of. We went out to the ancient burial grounds and Bobby lost the statue in the set of caves, and we all got lost. I mean, he was dropping popcorn for a Hansel & Gretel kind of trail, so we could find our way back to the bus stop. But the popcorn ran out by the entrance.
And there was some crazy old professor who thought we were there to steal treasures he discovered. He threatened us for that and for trespassing, even though the cave belongs to the local people. So the Skipper hit Prof. Whitehead with a statue! (Not the tiki, but a bigger statue.) The boys and I didn't want him to get in trouble for defending us, so we told everyone, including the police, that he just punched the professor.
It took the police a couple days to find the body. No, he's not dead, thank goodness, but he hasn't regained consciousness. Anyway, I don't want to go into too much detail, in case Mary Ann, or somebody I trust much less, finds you.
I dropped hints about the map before we left to catch the bus, so she, Mr. and Mrs. Brady, and David came to our rescue. I don't think she read any of the actual entries, not this time.
Anyway, unless I have to testify on the Skipper's behalf, I plan to spend the rest of this vacation having romantic walks on the beach with Mary Ann, because we don't do enough of that at home, where she's so busy with the pizza parlor, and I'm off the island and on the ferry a lot of the time.
August 20, 1972
We'll be heading back to Blenford and then our island tomorrow. It's definitely been quite an adventure, for some of us more than others.
Last night, we went to a luau in honor of all of us and Prof. Whitehead! The police found him, and the Skipper spoke on his behalf once he recovered. Believe it or not, there are no hard feelings, on any side. A compromise was worked out, with David representing the islanders. Some of the contents of the cave will be shown in the local museum, while the rest will be left in the caves, out of respect, although pictures were taken for display. Prof. Whitehead has that wing of the museum named after him, but there will be plaques and other information about the local perspectives on the treasures.
The last few days, we've mostly been just trying to be ordinary tourists, including taking in a Don Ho performance at the hotel. Mike's work here is done, so he's been able to see the sights with us this weekend.
And he bought me a jade and coral necklace! I would've rather have had a peaceful vacation, but it's definitely a great consolation prize.
