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to optimize your ocean potential. Drink up.”

      The teens looked at the bottles of water suspiciously.

      “Oh don’t worry, it is perfectly safe,” Coach said, opening a bottle and guzzling nearly half of it. “See.”

      Coach Fred stood staring at the teens as they opened their water bottles and took a few tentative sips. He then whistled sharply. Far out in the lagoon, two dolphins pirouetted into the air.

      “Many different animals live in the ocean,” Coach announced. “Each has evolved the ability to live and travel about the sea. As you heard last night, you have been chosen to come here because all of you have distant traces of these abilities in your genes.”

      “Excuse me, sir, Coach?” Hugh said. “How do you know that? Because well, I’m not so sure.”

      “Ever heard of the Internet or World Wide Web, Haverford?” Coach asked.

      “Duh! Who hasn’t,” Rosina sneered.

      “People use the Internet as a network for worldwide communication. In the ocean there is a much, much older network—one that sea creatures have been using for millions of years. Dolphins, fish, seabirds . . . really all marine life, communicate on some level. They pass messages among themselves and eventually the news spreads throughout the sea. As it turns out, some humans have the capacity to be part of this undersea network. We call it the “Seanet.” Oceangoing animals can sense when someone has that capacity and they let us know. Seagulls are especially good Sea Camp scouts. We get reports from birds and other animals all over the world about potential campers. But each year only a handful of teenagers are sent brochures and invited to come.

      A dolphin popped up next to the dock and the pelican jumped off its perch, landing in the water next to it.

      “This is Scarface and Henry. I think it is pretty obvious which is which.”

      The dolphin had a long scar running from just below its eye to the tip of its beak. The pelican bobbed its head and swam rapidly around in a tight circle. It must have made the bird dizzy, because when it stopped its head wavered drunkenly and it tilted precariously over to one side like a sailboat blown over by a strong gust of wind.

      The dolphin—Scarface—nodded at the pelican, making a series of short, sharp squeaks. Tristan thought it was laughing at the bird’s crazy behavior.

      “Anybody know what Scarface is saying?”

      Sam raised her hand.

      “Yes, Marten?”

      “I’m not sure, but I think it wants us to come in and play.”

      “What makes you say that?” Coach asked.

      “It’s just a feeling . . . not like I really heard that or anything.”

      “Exactly. When we communicate with marine life, we can do so in several ways. Most often it is just a feeling we get or like hearing someone talking in your head. Body language and behavior are also important.”

      Henry—the pelican—took off, circled the dock, and then landed behind Rosina. Tristan had not realized how big or intimidating the bird was. Its wingspan must have been four feet across and its bill two feet long. The pelican hopped toward Rosina and stuck its long bill out toward her.

      She scuttled backward. “Hey! Watch it!”

      The bird then waddled away and jumped back on the piling.

      “Getting our attention can be the first step,” Coach said. “Scarface show us ‘mad.’”

      The large, gray bottlenose dolphin dove then repeatedly slapped its tail on the surface. It then rushed at the dock and swerved just before hitting it, so that a wave of water splashed the sitting Seasquirts.

      “As you can see dolphins are very powerful animals. One big muscle really. You do not want to mess with them. Ms. Sanchez will teach you more about communication later today. For some of you it will be easier than for others. My job is to help you develop your in-water skills. I assume you all can swim?”

      Coach Fred looked over the group, his eyes pausing on Hugh. “Okay, then. Hustle up, over to the beach. Walk in to about waist-deep and get comfortable.”

      “Easy for him to say,” Hugh whispered to Tristan.

      “C’mon, just try it. Doesn’t look like there’s much to worry about. Look how calm and clear the water is. It’s not like there are any giant piranhas or great whites in there or anything.”

      Hugh did not look convinced.

      “Once you’re waist-deep, lay back and float,” Coach instructed.

      Tristan, Sam, and Ryder were the first ones in the water. Rosina and the twins made their way in more slowly. Hugh lagged behind, standing at the water’s edge. After taking several deep breaths, he cautiously entered the lagoon. Hugh inched his way out into the water until he was about knee-deep.

      “Looks good everyone. Just lay back and think about the warm ocean water all around you,” Coach shouted to them.

      Ryder fell backward, purposely splashing Rosina, who glared back at him. Tristan and Sam lay back in unison and the twins followed. Hugh remained standing where he was.

      “You too young man. Let’s see it,” Coach barked.

      Hugh walked slowly into slightly deeper water, peering down. He was clearly searching for anything living that might be on the bottom or swimming near his legs.

      “Feel the seawater between your toes. Spread your fingers,” Coach said. “Now, inhale and feel your bodies rise up. Exhale and you should sink slightly.”

      Tristan felt completely relaxed in the water. He had learned to swim when he was very young. Floating on his back, the warm seawater put him at ease. At the same time, it made him feel more alive and energetic than he could ever remember feeling. He breathed in and rose up in the water. He exhaled and sank. He had perfect control.

      “Now, I want each of you to turn over, take a deep breath, and kick. Swim toward me, arms at your sides.”

      Tristan rolled over, took a breath, and flutter kicked hard toward the dock. He shot forward like he’d been blasted out of an underwater cannon. He would have smashed headfirst into a wooden piling if Coach Fred hadn’t been there to stop him. Great, I’m a klutz in the water as well, Tristan thought.

      “Excellent Hunt, you’re clearly a swimmer. Just need some practice to get a handle on your speed.”

      Ryder was next to the dock, with Sam following close behind. Rosina then arrived with the identical twins—they were even harder to tell apart in the water. Hugh had not moved.

      “You too Haverford. Let’s see it,” Coach Fred called out.

      But Hugh just stood there thigh-deep, frozen.

      “Just lay down and kick,” Coach continued.

      “Uh, Coach,” Tristan said quietly. “He doesn’t like swimming in water with things living in it.”

      “Son, give it shot. Look, everyone else did it no problem,” Coach said.

      Tristan hated when adults said things like that. Everyone else ran around the baseball diamond, hitting the bases without falling. Everyone else jumped rope for five minutes without tripping. He knew it was only going to make Hugh feel worse.

      “Okay,” Coach said in a slightly kinder tone. “For now, just hang out there and get used to the water. Everyone else hop up on the dock and take a look at your feet.”

      Tristan felt bad for Hugh and could not imagine why Coach Fred wanted him to look at his feet. “Whoa!”

      “Wicked,” Ryder added.

      Sam was too surprised to say anything—and that itself was a surprise.

      There was a thin

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