The Island of Eden Volume 1
Book 1 The Doomsburg & Book 2 The Dream City
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The fire burned out of control, forcing us to retreat. A hurricane lashed the ship outside, a rampaging fire burned unchecked below, and the Doomsberg bore down on us with a rush as the colossal wind pushed it to its rendezvous with doom! Nothing now, could save the ship. We could only abandon the ship and try to reach our supplies on top of the iceberg. If we could get there through the savage storm. I gathered the people in the dining room for the last time and told them to leave the ship, quickly, without delay, before the boilers exploded, killing us all. The climb up the ice slope in the screaming wind would be almost impossible, but the cold was the real danger. The chill factor was down to at least 70 degrees below zero. We had to reach the top of the iceberg and get out of the wind or freeze and put some distance between us and the coming titanic collision when the Doomsberg struck the Polar Princess and the iceberg she rested on. The roar of the wind drowned out the sounds of the inferno raging below in the engine room. Smoke was beginning to fill the upper parts of the ship. People began to panic and run. The lights went out and we were in darkness. People began to yell and scream in the blackness. People who had them, turned on flashlights. Eva and I turned on both of ours. It was every man for himself now. Eva and I went through the black passageways to our cabin. Quickly, we put on our parkas and mukluks. I got my rifle and all of the ammunition I had for my rifle and my automatic pistol. We stuffed our backpacks full, as we had planned, and left the cabin. The passageways were full of hurrying people, fumbling through the blackness of the unlighted ship. Smoke was getting thicker and making breathing difficult. And with the smoke, we could feel the heat. The ship was getting hotter and hotter. Eva and I went up through the black ship, using my flashlight, to the boat deck where we had hacked out a path through the ice on deck, that led over the side to the trail we had cut through the ice to the slope that would take us to the top of the iceberg. We wanted to check on conditions off the ship so we left the shelter of the ship. The force of the wind hit us with such force we had to crawl. We couldn't stand against that giant wind. The cold struck us and left us gasping. Our faces went numb. Spray from the massive seas flew through the air as frozen pellets of ice which hit us like bird shot from a shotgun! Sand-like snow filled the air, abrasive, stinging the skin. I turned and fought my way back inside the ship, pushing Eva before me. It was going to be very difficult for the people to reach the top of the iceberg. Those people who were not prepared to abandon ship would probably not make it to the top of the iceberg. Once back inside, we stood up. We had face masks and goggles to protect our faces, but before we left I wanted to help the other people get off the ship. It was as black outside the ship as it was inside. The storm clouds hid all light from the sky. The pellets of frozen sea water and the gritty sand-like snow made seeing almost impossible if there had been light. In the polar darkness the people were blind. Speech was impossible. The storm would have drowned out a cannon. As the people came up to us, Eva and I could only point the way with our flashlights and urge them on. They crawled over the side and disappeared into the howling blackness. Those who had ropes, we roped together. We could do nothing for those who did not have ropes. Snaca and Sally arrived and, a few minutes later, Appleton and Ginger. They stayed behind to help as Eva and I were doing. Mike Dollar and Wanda Wintersfield came up, then Perry Phogger and Glenda Hills, Steve Childs and Cherry Quail, Linda Lane, Lorraine Libb, Jingo and Carol, Elaine Lass, and Jean James. Jingo had a portable light that was very bright, which made it easier to get the people off the ship. We could see lights above us on the ice slope now in the blackness as the people fought through the shrieking wind to the top of the iceberg, but it was slow, very slow work. Crawling through the blocks of ice where we had cut a trail, gave some protection from the wind, and the wind was blowing up the slope which made it easier to climb with the wind coming from behind. I finally sent Snaca and Sally out with the portable light Jingo brought so the people could have a light to guide on as they went up the slope and also to find some shelter on top so we could get out of the killing cold until the storm blew out. Something exploded below and shook the whole ship, then another blast went off that blew the deck open.
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About the Author
Robert James Warner was born and raised in Long Beach, California. He went to the local schools. He was drafted into the Navy on March 9th, 1944, during the 2nd World War as soon as he finished his last semester in High School. He was discharged from the Navy on June 16, 1946. Mr. Warner went back to school, Long Beach City College, on the G.I. Bill, taking Mechanical Engineering, then he switched to journalism. After about a year and a half at City College he quit. Mr. Warner had always been interested in writing, but he had huge handicaps to overcome: he couldn't spell (he still can't); and grammar was then and is now a mystery to him. Mr. Warner first began to write when he was about 20. During the next few years he wrote some songs, some poetry, and some short stories; but his output was quite low. From 1947, after Mr. Warner left City College, to 1950, he had a number of different inconsequential jobs, the longest at Douglas Aircraft in Long Beach where he worked in the blueprint department for eight months, then he quit and loafed awhile. In 1950 he enlisted in the Active Naval Reserve as a Weekend Warrior, so he could learn seamanship and get paid doing it. He has had a life long love affair with boats (building his own) and fishing. About three months later, the Korean War started and Mr. Warner was called back to active duty in the Navy Aircorp for a year, getting discharged in August, 1951, serving on three aircraft carriers, operating off of Korea in the China Sea, bombing and strafing the communists! After Korea, Mr. Warner went back to City College for awhile, then he got a job on a freighter as a deckhand, and made two trips to the Hawaiian Islands, about 30 days round trip, hauling bulk sugar for C&H Sugar in Crocket California on the Sacramento River. Leaving the ship in Crocket he went to Santa Rosa, California, where he washed dishes in some restaurants and got a poem published in the local newspaper, a big day in his life. Next, he went to Yosemite, and washed some more dishes then he went home. Mr. Warner has cleaned chicken dung from under the pens; he owned and operated his own auto wrecking yard; owned his own 2nd Store; was half owner of a Yacht Landing; speculated in Real Estate and worked at some other odd jobs, going to work for the Long Beach Fire Department in 1953 for the next 26 years, retiring in October 1979. Mr. Warner got married in 1961, had his son in 1963, then got divorced in 1973. In 1974, Mr. Warner and his son, Jeff, drove to Alaska during the summer. On his return, Mr. Warner wrote his first novel. Since 1974, Mr. Warner has written 15 novels, about 125 short stories, two Civil War books, and two poetry collections.