“So we do the best we can.”
“And be happy we have your new Garmin.” Jack pointed at the chart. “This is how I see it. When we snagged Maiko’s brother, we were a mile or so east of the fishing buoy over here off the northwest coast of Lanai. I’m assuming Ichiro’s body drifted quite a distance in that current. The Orochimaru’s last know location was in the channel between Molokai and Lanai, headed toward Lanai. I’m all in that she went down somewhere off Shipwreck Beach and ended up on the reef there, along with all the other junk in the water.”
Robert scoffed and tapped the map with his fingertip. “You and I have already talked about this. Several times. Given what we know, her last location and direction of travel could put her anywhere along the coastline up here to the north. And that’s assuming she was under power.”
Jack took a sip of his coffee, and said, “Kimo agreed with me, and I’m betting on it. Otherwise, I don’t think we have a snowball’s chance in hell of finding her. Not in three days, anyway.”
Robert straightened. “If I remember right, you told me Kimo only said it was possible the Orochimaru could end up off Shipwreck Beach, if the yacht didn’t go straight to the bottom, and if it was far enough south in the channel.”
Jack grinned. “That’s why we’ll have to assume she’s there.”
Robert’s expression sobered. “And hope you’re right.”
CHAPTER 45
Jack gripped the edge of the helm. It was going to be a rough ride.
And they had a long way to go.
Bending and straightening his knees to absorb the shock, he held on while Robert piloted Fast Times through choppy seas that were making the ride up the west coast of Maui rough. The bow lurched and dropped and slammed into white-capped swells that rolled under her deep-V hull in a quartering sea. Spray, caught by the wind, flew over the port bow and wet the windows.
“You’ll actually dive in this?” Dana asked from where she sat across the galley table from Kazuko.
Jack turned from the windscreen and directed his attention on her. “If we find anything remotely close to what we’re looking for. It’ll be the only way to confirm the wreck is in fact the Orochimaru.”
“You could always plot the GPS coordinates and return when there’s a more favorable sea.”
He stared through the window, picturing Madam Takahashi holding the Black Star of Africa necklace up in front of her and smiling. And he pictured waking up to Crewcut’s face smiling down at him and the sound of the hammer being cocked on a large-caliber, semi-automatic pistol pointed at his head.
“And run the risk Takahashi’s salvage crew will move in behind us and recover the necklace before we return? No thanks.” He looked back at Dana. “I’ll take my chances underwater. Besides, you experienced far worse weather and ocean conditions than this in Alaska. I would have imagined this is a cakewalk to you.”
“It doesn’t mean I’m not concerned.”
“And we’re all happy about that.” Kazuko added, “Jack is just being Jack. I’ve seen him like this before. You’ll get used to it.”
There seemed to be no end to her gossiping. Something new, he was afraid. He smiled, hoping that was the end of it. “If you two do much more talking, there won’t be a secret of mine left to tell.”
Dana laughed. “She does seem to know them all.”
That made him chuckle. “Maybe not every one of them. But too many, I’m sorry to say.”
They passed the lighthouse, and rounded Papawai Point. From there, they set a westerly course across the ten-mile-wide ‘Au‘au Channel between Maui and Lanai. Robert had to adjust the speed of the sportfisher to match the roll of the swells passing under her bow or risk cracking the hull; or, at a minimum, jarring their teeth loose.
A few minutes into the ride, Kazuko asked, “Have any of you wondered what Orochimaru means?”
Jack hadn’t thought about it. “Sounds ominous.”
“Translated it means, snake boy.”
“Snake boy.” He scoffed. “What kind of name is that for a boat?”
“More than you think. In Japanese mythology orochi is an eight-headed serpent that devours young girls. I’ll let you guess which one of these translations the owner named the boat after.”
He pictured the ominous form taking shape in his mind. And the person who’d name his boat after such a thing. “What does this eight-headed serpent look like, besides having eight heads?”
“The orochi also has eight tails. Moreover, legend says the creature’s eyes glow like lanterns. Moss and trees grow on its body, which stretches over eight valleys and eight hills.”
He exchanged glances with Robert and saw him smile. He figured they were both thinking the same thing. “Sounds like a creature from one of those B-rated Godzilla movies.”
“Hydra,” Robert corrected. “That’s the name of the creature you’re thinking of. Except he only had two heads. And If I’m not mistaken, he breathed fire.”
Kazuko furrowed her brow. “I’m not sure the tacky movie monster and the orochi from Japanese mythology are one and the same. Today, Orochimaru is a character from the Naruto universe created by a well-known manga artist named Masashi Kishimoto. Comics, movies, video games, collectibles—his Naruto series has been in production since 1999, and has sold well over one hundred million copies in Japan alone.”
“Guess that makes the former owner a fan,” Jack said. “Now let’s find that boat and recover that necklace.”
“If it were only that easy,” Robert said.
CHAPTER 46
Jack held onto the hope they’d find better water along the east shore of Lanai.
It took them an hour to make the crossing, but at last Manele Bay came into view less than a half mile away. They needed to make a decision.
He moonwalked aft, across the lurch and fall of the salon deck, and opened the cabin door. With his feet spread wide for support, one inside and one outside, he held onto the aluminum frame of the hatchway and studied the weather and water conditions.
The sky remained gray and threatening with no guarantee they weren’t in for a soaking. Of little concern considering the uncertainties that lay ahead for them. The sea, on the other hand, though choppy had flattened, making travel considerably less bone jarring.
“Water has calmed some,” he said, peering in at Robert who looked very much like Captain Kirk sitting in his Kirkchair. “Rain’s iffy.”
“Won’t matter if we get wet.” Robert turned from the view beyond the windscreen and met Jack’s gaze. “What do you think? Want to try it?”
“I’m certainly game if you are.” He looked at the women. “You don’t mind, do you?”
They looked at each other. Kazuko said, “Are you okay with it?”
Dana shrugged. “It’s just a boat ride for us.”
“That settles it,” Robert said. He spun the wheel and increased speed, putting Fast Times on a northerly course toward Shipwreck Beach.
Jack tightened his grip on the door frame and held on as the boat made the turn, dipping sharply to port in the trough of a swell. He was sure his friend felt the same anger and thrill of adventure he did, and that those emotions caused him to push his boat to its limits.
The air curling back wisps of his hair was cool and clean and refreshing. Scrubbed free of the Big Island’s sulfuric volcanic crud by the rain. He was in no hurry to go back inside.
Settling into the fighting chair, ignoring the dampness seeping through his shorts, he stared at the wake trying to envision what the bottom would look like along Shipwreck Beach. A scrapyard came to mind. Castoffs left to rust away along with all the other discards of the world.
“Care for some company?” Dana asked from behind him.
He swiveled in the seat and saw her standing in the open doorway. “By all means, join me.”
She stepped onto the aft deck, and he made a move to get up so she could have his seat.
“Stay where you are,” she said as she positioned
herself against the gunwale, very much at home on rough water.
“Sure you wouldn’t rather sit?”
She shook her head. “The seat fits you. Do much marlin fishing?”
“Not intentionally.” He settled back into the chair. “Mostly what I catch are sharks. And then I tag and release them unharmed.”
“Of course, your research. And that’s what you were doing when you hooked that poor man’s body?”
“Correct. I hoped to draw in a Great White that has given fishermen in the area problems. Waiting all day to hook a really nice fish and then coming up with half of it tends to piss people off and make them want to shoot at things. NOAA would like to see this shark stay alive. So would I.”
“But you do fish? Other than for sharks?”
“Only when I’m catching something for dinner.”
“Have you caught one? A marlin, I mean.”
“Once. A few years back, I was in Cabo San Lucas with my brother. The one I hooked got away. He landed one that we ate part of that night. The rest went to a bunch of local kids who carried thick slabs of meat home to their parents. But there were way too many fish brought in for photographic reasons, only to end up being dumped meat, skin, bill and all the rest into the bay. It disgusted me to see the terrible waste.”
“So the whole Hemingway thing is a turnoff?”
“Not really. The insanity part of his life is sad. But for the most part he was a man’s man most guys can identify with. Plus, he was a writer; that’s cool. On occasion, I still read his story about the old man who catches a giant marlin and battles sharks and the elements to get the fish back to his village.”
“Interesting,” she said. “I find it strange that you like that book. From the way you talked a moment ago, catching a marlin saddened you?”
“There’s more to the story than that. The old guy could have quit anytime, but he didn’t. He fought exhaustion, starvation, thirst, the sharks—all the odds stacked against him—to finish what he started.”
“Tenacity. A rhino like you.”
“You talk like that’s something bad.”
“Not at all. I admire you for it.”
“And you? Where do you fit in this?”
“You and me, we’re not all that different. Like you, I finish what I start.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“That’s why we’re doing this, isn’t it?”
“I suppose. Does it work for you?”
She smiled and stared out to sea. “I may very well have found something important enough to make my life worth living.”
CHAPTER 47
Jack stared at the foamy path behind the boat, leaving Dana to her thoughts. He knew exactly what she meant. Years back, he had found the answer to what made his life worth living.
And only recently, he realized exactly how important it was to have Dana be a part of it.
We belong together.
Time passed quickly. And finally, the rusted-out hulk of the WWII Liberty Ship and the long jagged lines of white water marking the reef came into view. And with the sight, his heartrate quickened. The wind didn’t appear to have slacked off much, and the sea continued to be rougher than he hoped it would be. But the rain that threatened all morning continued to hold.
Their gamble might pay off.
At least they were dry.
He hurried into the salon, dug into the cabinet at Robert’s feet, and found the Leica Geovid 15x56 waterproof binoculars. They looked brand new.
“Careful with those,” Robert said. “They cost me twenty-five hundred dollars on sale.”
“I promise I won’t scratch the lenses.” He scanned the expanse of water ahead and to the starboard of them not really expecting to see the Orochimaru run aground on the reef but anything was possible. Failing to see the wrecked yacht or any boat other than the rusted-out hulk of the ship that gave the beach its name, he turned the field glasses on the stretch of sand to port. Takahashi didn’t appear to have a salvage vessel out on the water, but she had men watching from someplace. He was sure of it. Still, he didn’t spot them anywhere.
That bothered him more than if he had.
Lowering the field glasses from his eyes, he turned to Dana, and said, “You’re probably more qualified than any of us to operate this tub of Robert’s. Yet, other than your idle chatter with Kazuko about my personal life, you’ve pretty much kept any comments you’ve had about what we’re doing or how we’re going about doing it, to yourself. I’m interested in hearing what you have to say.”
She joined him at the windscreen and directed her gaze at the glass. “You mean besides you needing more sophisticated sonar equipment?”
“We know that,” he said. “But we’ve got what we’ve got and we’ll make it work.”
She turned to him. “Then I say you’re doing all you can do given the circumstances. Just keep your distance from that reef. It’d be awfully embarrassing for me to have to call my captain and have him send a boat out to rescue us.”
He offered a smile of reassurance. “We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
Raising the binoculars to his eyes, he studied the shoreline. The yacht wasn’t run aground on the coral, but there was a chance he’d catch a glimpse of flotsam with the yacht’s name on it, a life ring, something washed up on the sand that indicated the boat went down in the area.
That they even had a chance of finding it.
A needle in a great big ocean haystack.
“The Orochimaru isn’t stuck on the reef,” he said, turning to look at his friends. “So if she’s here, she’s on the bottom. I’m thinking we make our first pass in about thirty feet of water and go from there. You have the coordinates for where we hooked the body, aim for that. We’ll reverse our course when we reach that setting. It’d be futile to look any farther west.”
Dana nodded. “That much water under the keel should provide us with a more than adequate safety margin.”
“That’s good by me.” Robert shot a smile in her direction. “Hard to disagree with the Coast Guard.”
The next minutes were spent in quiet anticipation. Robert reduced speed and switched on the depth finder. Kazuko stood behind him holding onto the back of his seat. Jack and Dana stood to the side with Jack braced against the console. Dana held onto him. All four sets of eyes were focused on the color monitor.
Almost immediately, a sharp outline of rocks and small debris showed up on the screen. Jack was amazed at the clarity of the images. He pictured the Orochimaru a derelict sitting askew on the bottom. And knowing they were looking for a dead ship with a dead crew left him with an eerie feeling.
Men’s souls condemned to the briny depths.
He blinked away the image, and said, “Keep in mind, we don’t have any idea what the yacht looked like before it went down or if it’s even still in one piece, so we’re looking for anything that resembles a large boat of any kind.”
Time slowed as large and small images materialized on the screen. Fish, too, of all sizes.
“Kimo was right,” Robert said. “There’s a lot of junk on the bottom.”
Jack had imagined a scrapyard. He was right on.
“What’s that?” Kazuko pointed. “Right there.”
Jack exchanged glances with Robert.
“It just might be,” he said.
CHAPTER 48
The green, mud-spattered Jeep ground up the slippery dirt road on the remote mountain slope overlooking Shipwreck Beach. Rainwater from the night before added to the normally treacherous driving conditions. Now the driver understood why the path was closed to vehicles.
A restriction he chose to ignore.
Nobuyuki Fujita rounded a bend and stopped. He couldn’t help taking in the view. From his location he could see Maui and Molokai and any boats cruising the channel. His reason for being on that end of the island.
He spied a level spot a hundred feet ahead and pressed
his foot on the gas.
A perfect vantage point.
The ominous cloud cover pressed down on his vehicle. A thick mist formed on the windshield. Rivulets of water, driven by the wind, streaked the glass. He turned on the wipers and narrowed his eyes to see through the film of condensation blurring the trail ahead. The window cleared, but a second late. The rugged 4x4 plowed axle-deep into muck and stopped abruptly, even though the tires continued to spin.
Mud flew into the air.
He shook his head in frustration. The deep sludge he’d driven through had made driving practically impossible.
Now this.
He tried reverse. The Jeep moved a couple of feet and stopped. More mud flew, spattering the rearview mirrors on the doors.
Shoving the automatic transmission into drive, he floor-boarded the gas pedal and gained a foot. He tried reverse again and this time the 4x4 only moved a few inches. Once more he shifted into drive. The tires just spun muck into the air.
The SUV was stuck.
He hammered his fist against the steering wheel.
There was little choice. He reached across the console and grasped the handles on the nylon bag sitting on the passenger’s seat. It contained his field glasses, food, water, and most importantly the satellite phone. He pulled it onto the center console next to him and grabbed the rifle case. He’d continue on foot. Something he did not look forward to.
Not in this weather.
The red earth looked solid next to the line of brush a few feet away. He opened the driver’s door, planted his foot, and leaped to the side of the track in an effort to clear the bog. He landed on the soles of his shoes, slipped, and fell hard onto his hands and knees. The duffle slammed to the ground.
He cursed his assignment.
His grandfather had flown an A6M Zero in the bombing attack on Pearl Harbor. And in the last years of the war, he flew a Mitsubishi Ki-51. He died kamikaze: ‘divine wind.’ A supreme sacrifice in the tradition of the samurai, the Bushido code: loyalty and honor until death.
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