We're the Pogues, and our mission this summer is to have a good time, all the time.
The Outer Banks, Paradise on Earth.
It's the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses.
Two tribes, one island.
All right. This is Figure Eight, the rich side of the island.
Home of the Kooks. So, guess where we don't live.
And then, this is the south side or the cut.
Home of the working class who make a living busing tables, washing yachts, running charters.
The natural habitat of... drumroll, please...
...the Pogues.
That's us.
Pogues, pogies, the throwaway fish.
Lowest member of the food chain. Okay. So, the downside of Pogue life is we're ignored and neglected.
But the upside of Pogue life? We're ignored and neglected, which means we do whatever we want, whenever we want.
That's JJ, my best friend since the third grade.
He's about as local as they come.
Latest in a long line of fishing, drinking, smuggling, vendetta-holding salt-lifers who made their living off the water.
Best surfer I know. Just don't tell him I said that.
Mild kleptomaniac and a future tax cheat.
And that's Kiara, or Kie, as we call her.
When not saving turtles or listening to Marley, or getting a dolphin tattoo, she hangs out with us.
I'm not really sure why, though.
So, she's a rich kid, actually.
Foot in both worlds.
Her family owns The Wreck, this Outer Banks institution.
Total cash cow with the tourists.
You know, I'm not really sure how her parents feel about us.
We all have a thing for her.
And that's Pope, the brains of the operation... finalist for the Lucas T. Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship.
And the smartest person I know.
Little bit of a weirdo.
His father's this legendary character, Heyward.
Anything you wanted on the island, Heyward could get for you.
Now, I'm not sure Heyward knew what to make of his oddball son, but it didn't matter. He was a Pogue, just like the rest of us.
So, that's my crew.
And that's me, John Booker Routledge.
And this is where I live.
An old fish shack on the marsh. The Château, as my dad used to call it.
There's Dad.
He disappeared at sea nine months ago, looking for a shipwreck.
Who disappears at sea these days?
I miss him.
And then there's Mom. She split when I was three.
Last I heard, she was in Colorado. I think it was Colorado.
That's Uncle T.
Since Dad's vanished, he's supposedly my legal guardian.
At the moment, he's in Mississippi, building houses...
...which means it's just me right now, on my own, hangin' out with my friends.
Three months after my dad was missing, he was officially presumed dead.
I refused to sign the papers.
Until I see a body, I'm not giving up.
And that's where this story starts.
My dad missing, my uncle MIA, and the Bride of Frankenstein threatening foster care.
But I caught a break. Hurricane Agatha continues its steady march towards Kildare Island
Hurricane Agatha, coming in the same day DCS was supposed to do my assessment.
But that, was just the beginning.