First mate's log:

January 6, 1969

Well, Christmas vacation is over and the kids are back in school. Now it's mostly adults on the ferry again. The Skipper and I have talked about how many runs we want to do this year, especially when the island population goes up to 500 this summer. We'll probably go to three times a day— morning, afternoon, and evening— but we don't know about adding weekend runs. Maybe once or twice on Saturdays.

We're going to practice weekend runs soon, because the circus will be on Blenford Saturday the 18th and Sunday the 19th. We'll take families over in the morning and back in the late afternoon, both days. Yeah, the Skipper and I are going to the circus, too, both days. I hope they have lions, since I still miss Leo.

As far as the population going up goes, right now the land is cleared for the new buildings but construction hasn't started yet. More animals are having to flee deeper into the jungle, and Kurt says he will probably move his hut further into the "wilderness." (By the way, we did exchange Christmas gifts, but they were homemade because he likes to live simply and didn't want to give or get anything from a store.) More construction workers will arrive in the spring, after there's more housing for them, so there will be more than 200 people on the island soon. But, yeah, 500 sounds like a lot, especially compared to the sixteen of us less than a year ago.

January 8, 1969

Carol Brady's diary:

Mike was scheduled to meet with the firm of architects on Blenford this afternoon, to receive an award for his designs for our island. However, Marcia insisted on his help with her homework. Obviously, I offered my help, but she preferred his because it was math. Not that I'm bad at math, but Mike is better, as an architect. He sent Greg with a note for Gilligan to take over on the ferry, apologizing that something had suddenly come up and he hoped they could reschedule tomorrow evening. Gilligan brought back the reply that that would be fine and they'd take him out to dinner, too.

On the one hand, I was disappointed, especially since this means we can't have our usual Thursday evening date in Blenford. On the other hand, I thought this was a good sign in terms of us becoming more of a family, Marcia turning to Mike for help and he postponing something he was looking forward to in order to give that help. Our children, mine as well as his, are very important to Mike, and he wants to find time for them, despite how busy he is with work.

In fact, we're going to take them to the circus! It's coming to Blenford the weekend of the 18th, a traveling circus that's willing to come all the way to the South Pacific, at a time of year when most American circuses vacation in Florida. Brady Island's forty-two kids wouldn't be enough of a draw, but children make up one-fifth of the Blenford population, 320. (This works out to about twenty kids per year, from babies to high school sophomores, so every grade has its own teacher, and the junior-and-senior-high is separate from the elementary school.) The Skipper is going to offer special weekend ferry rides to accommodate families from our island.

I haven't been to the circus since I was pregnant with Cindy, and Jan doesn't remember going, although Marcia does. She loved it and in fact was disappointed that Gilligan's plans for a circus, starring Leo the Lion, didn't work out. Of course, she's older now, almost twelve, and sometimes so poised I call her "Miss Protocol." She's a still a little girl in some ways though, calling Mike "Daddy" after he helped her with her homework, and I think the circus brings the little kid out in all of us. I'm looking forward to it myself.

January 10, 1969

Wow, I'm in the middle of intrigue! I don't know if it has to do with why Mr. Brady exchanged his Wednesday afternoon ferry booking for Thursday evening, without Mrs. Brady for a change, but something's going on in that family, again.

Around 8:45 tonight, as the Skipper and I were getting ready for the Friday night run, Marcia came running up with a letter in her hand. Not only that, she was in her pajamas, robe, and slippers!

The Skipper said, "Young Lady, what are you doing out of bed?", but he sounded as much amused as scolding.

"Can I talk to Gilligan in private?"

He chuckled. "OK, but make it quick. We ship out in a few minutes."

She nodded and led me away from the construction workers who were starting to board the ferry. Then she whispered, "Can you take this letter to the Blenford Bugle newspaper office?"

"Can't you give it to Mr. Engstrom to mail on Monday?"

She shook her head. "No, it has to get there by midnight tonight!"

"Why didn't you mail it earlier in the week? Or give it to your stepdad to take over yesterday?"

"It wasn't ready yet. And my dad can't find out!"

"Gee, Marcia, I don't want to do anything your parents wouldn't approve of."

"I'm not doing anything wrong, but it's a surprise. And I'll tell my mom and dad when it's over."

"Gilligan, hurry up!" the Skipper bellowed.

"Please, Gilligan!" She held the letter out again.

"OK," I said, taking it.

"Thanks, Gilligan, you're the best!" She gave me a quick hug and then ran off into the night.

The construction guys teased me about "the little girl having a crush on me and bringing me a love note," but of course it was nothing like that. Not that I know exactly what it's about. I did head over to the Bugle office after we docked, rather than the movie theater like usual. A lot of places on Blenford are closed at night, but a newspaper office has to be open around the clock, in case of breaking stories. There were just a few reporters and other workers around. I gave the letter to the copy boy, who looked a little younger than I am but teased, "So your daddy is the best daddy?"

I'd noticed that Marcia hadn't put a stamp or even a return address on the envelope, just "BLENFORD BUGLE" in big letters. It was like she never expected to mail it and had put all her hopes on my delivering it in person. "No, I'm bringing it for a girl."

He chuckled and said, "Girls make us do crazy things, don't they?"

I couldn't argue with that, considering what I did for Ginger and Mary Ann, but I didn't want to explain that it wasn't like he thought. I just nodded and headed over to the cinema, where I'd missed the opening credits of Barbarella. I'll try to catch them next week.

January 11, 1969

I don't know what's gotten into Marcia. It was a little selfish of her to ask for Mike's help when he was about to leave, but Mike didn't object, and like I said, I was happy about them bonding. But on Thursday night, when he got back from the architect's dinner, he found all three girls up past their bedtime, horsing around in his den!

(Alice and I were drinking coffee in the kitchen and didn't hear them. Cindy's bedtime is eight o'clock, while Jan's is 8:30, and Marcia's is nine. Each boy has a matching bedtime to the stepsister he's closest in age to, to make things simple.)

The children know they're not supposed to be in Mike's den when he's not there, but the girls were giggling and pushing each other. They made a mess, too, which got worse when Mike accidentally spilled white-out on some plans! Mike most blamed Marcia, because she was in there first and her sisters had come in looking for her. Also, she should've known better as the oldest.

Mike and I discussed it when he came to bed, and we agreed we'd give Marcia extra chores, while Jan and Cindy would get a stern talking to. Marcia agreed to the chores the next morning and even called Mike "out of sight," a slangy compliment she's picked up from the radio. However, she neglected these chores, including feeding Tiger, who got so hungry he nibbled on one of Greg's shoes! (Yes, I'll take Greg to Sherwood's Shoe Store this weekend.)

When Mike confronted Marcia in her room, she claimed she was working on something she couldn't tell him about. So he grounded her until a week from Monday, which includes the circus.

In the evening, Mike was reading the paper in the den, while I was mending the boys' clothes. (They're rougher on their clothes than the girls are on theirs, something I never realized as a mother of just girls.) Mike wasn't paying attention to what I was saying, because he was distracted by guilt. He asked me if he'd been too harsh on Marcia. I said that I thought he was fair but maybe we could make Marcia's punishment just a week long, so she could go to the circus next Saturday. I have to admit, it wouldn't be as much fun without Marcia, and the whole family (Alice included of course) hasn't gone over to Blenford since the adoption hearing in November, because I missed the Christmas shopping.

However, when Mike and I went upstairs to check in on the children a little after nine o'clock, and maybe tell Marcia the good news if she was still awake, she was missing! The boys were all in bed, with Greg just drifting off. But Marcia wasn't in her bed, and her sisters hadn't noticed her disappearance because they were asleep until we woke them to ask.

I was terribly worried, because this was worse than when she wanted to go buy the newspaper in the evening. That time, it was earlier and we knew why she wanted to go (although not her specific reason for preventing Mike from buying the paper). Could she have run away, perhaps because of Mike's strictness? Or perhaps this was linked to her other misbehavior this week. I doubted she was abducted right out of her room, since Jan and Cindy would've heard something, but she could've quietly snuck out. After that though, who knows what could've happened to her on her own at night on this island? Yes, we're somewhat civilized now, but anyone or thing could be lurking in the jungle or in the caves. It wasn't that long ago that kidnappers and killers, both white and native, were on this island, not to mention wild animals, some of them very dangerous. Yes, Marcia grew up partly on this island, but I've always done my best to shelter her.

I had to hope that she had simply gone over to the Sherwoods' for the night and they'd bring her back in the morning. Not that we wouldn't check the whole neighborhood if we had to that night, and Mike would comb the island with Officer Carter and maybe a search party when it was daylight.

Luckily, Marcia came in after a few minutes, but not through the door. She climbed up the trellis, which apparently is how she got down. We asked her why she had gone out at night and she said she had to mail a letter. This sounded ridiculous, especially since she wouldn't give us any other details. One, she could've just put the letter in the mailbox in daylight, or walked it across the street to the post office when that's actually open. (There are limited hours on Saturdays.) Two, she was wearing her robe, slippers, and pajamas, odd attire for climbing a trellis. And three, what recipient would need the letter that soon?

"Is this about Dear Libby again?" I asked. I could just imagine her reading another letter about a troubled marriage, perhaps one even worse than "Harried and Hopeless's," so she needed reassurance more desperately.

"No, Mommy, it's not."

"It's a love letter," Cindy said giggling, and I wondered what a kindergartner, especially one who's hardly ever seen a movie or a TV show, could possibly know about love letters.

"Yeah," Jan said a little spitefully, "to that creep Felix Brown."

"Jan!" I scolded. The Brown boy, the only child of the mortician/furniture-maker, as well as one of the two boys in Marcia's grade, brought an urn to show-and-tell one time, so the other children think he's, well, "creepy," which is cruel, if understandable.

"Whatever this is about," Mike said, "Marcia, I'm sorry but your punishment stands. You're still grounded and you can't go to the circus next weekend."

Marcia burst into tears and I wished I could comfort her, but I didn't disagree with Mike. Jan and Cindy looked a little guilty for making the situation worse, but it's Marcia's behavior that's the issue.

And then today Cindy came to me and tattled on Marcia, not to get her into more trouble but to explain the trouble that Marcia's in. She claims that "Marcia wants Felikth Brown to athk her to the Valentine's danth."

Valentine's Day is over a month away, and I hadn't realized that Mrs. Whitfield was going to throw a school dance for the older kids, some of them only ten years old. Marcia is far too young to be worrying about boys and dances to the point that she's being disobedient and risking her own safety. And to be honest, if she were going to have a serious crush on a classmate, I wouldn't expect it to be the "creepy" boy, but that nice Alan Anthony, the fireman's son. Also, it seemed odd that Marcia would confide in her baby sister, but Cindy said that Marcia was telling Jan the secret when Cindy walked in.

I gently told Cindy not to be a tattletale but I was grateful for her information. I thought about confronting Marcia, but she doesn't seem like she'd confide in me right now. I'll speak to Mrs. Whitfield on Monday after school and let her know that her little dance, which she probably thought was harmless, is causing strife in our family.

January 15, 1969

Wow, the Skipper and I again took newspaper people over on the ferry! We hardly ever get anyone from Blenford or the outside world going to our island, but this time it was a reporter and a photographer from the Blenford Bugle. They didn't tell me what story they were covering, but they did ask for directions to the Bradys' house, so I think this must have something to do with Marcia's letter I delivered. I think this is good news, which the Bradys could use because Marcia got grounded for sneaking out at night, although she didn't tell them why. I've been worried about getting in trouble for helping her, but I don't think she'll tell my part in it, and I can rely on the Skipper not to rat me out.

I told the reporter that we don't have a hotel on our island, but he said they used their newspaper's telegraph to send a message to the Howells' telegraph, asking to pay for rooms for tonight. I didn't even know the Howells had a telegraph, let alone that they're willing to rent out part of the mansion to visitors. But it's good to know for the future, until we have an actual hotel here, not that we'll get many tourists, even when the population is higher. Even Blenford doesn't get that many visitors at this point.

January 16, 1969

Yesterday evening, we got an explanation for Marcia's misbehavior, something I couldn't have imagined but am truly touched by. I hadn't noticed the Bugle's contest for Father of the Year, but even if I had, it wouldn't have occurred to me that one of our kids would enter it. Not that Mike isn't a wonderful father, but I thought that the kids took him for granted, especially since they haven't in recent years had many fathers to compare him to. Well, Marcia does appreciate him and she wrote a lovely letter about how, although he hasn't been her father for very long, he's special in so many ways. Even if she hadn't won the contest, I would be moved that she had done this.

Not that it was right for her to sneak around and keep secrets, but I understand why now. She might never have confessed, but a Bugle reporter and photographer showed up at the house and announced her win. Yes, Mike and I have forgiven her to the extent that her grounding will be lifted on Saturday and we'll all go to the circus. In fact, the Bugle gave us ten circus tickets as her prize, along with a nice plaque. That's enough for the whole family, including Alice.

To my surprise, Marcia wants to give the extra ticket to Gilligan. I know the children are all fond of the first mate, but it would feel funny to invite him without the Skipper. Still, it is Marcia's prize and she went through a lot for it, so I think we'll go along with this.

By the way, I did talk to Mrs. Whitfield about the "Valentine's dance" and it turned out it's just a party and there's absolutely no pressure on the older children to pair up and date. I was confused by this until I found out that the nonexistent love letter to Felix Brown was just a distraction from Marcia's letter of filial love.

January 18, 1969

Oh boy, I went to the circus today and I got in free! It turns out that Marcia's letter was for the Bugle's Father of the Year contest and one of her prizes was circus tickets. I was flattered that Marcia said I should have the extra ticket, especially since she didn't tell her parents about how I helped. I think it's an OK secret to keep and everything worked out all right. And the circus was really fun, the animals and the food and everything. I sort of wish I'd been able to take Mary Ann, since I could've bought her a ticket, but maybe some other time. It was fun playing uncle to the Brady kids again, while feeling like a little kid myself.

January 20, 1969

We all had a good time at the circus this weekend, although I kept thinking about how we used to see wild animals outside of cages, before the rescue. This was safer but somehow sadder. Still, it was good to see the acts and I let the children eat junk for a day, trying not to have too much popcorn, caramel apples, peanuts, etc., myself.

Richard Nixon is now president and we listened to the inauguration on the radio. It's strange to think that we'll be able to see the next president sworn in on television, probably in color, whether that's in four or eight years. It seems like a century since I watched JFK's inauguration in black and white, when Jan was still a baby, and then the quick swearing-in of LBJ on Air Force One, less than three years later, when Cindy was my baby.