by Bobby Akart
“I’m not messing around again. I need you to watch the instruments and the compass. I need to get my gun.”
“Jake, your rifle is on the bench seat,” said Ashby, pointing to the M16.
“No, I need my hunting rifle. It has a better scope, too.”
Jake bounded down the stairs into the salon and opened the upright cabinet where the guns were kept. He reached for his newest hunting rifle, the Browning X-bolt Hell’s Canyon model chambered in .300 Winchester Magnum. He’d used this rifle to take down an elk from one mountain ridge to another.
From the top shelf of the cabinet, he grabbed a bundle of cloth containing his new scope, a Vanguard Endeavor. It provided him consistently clear resolution and was ideal for weather resistance, which worked well today, as the boat was kicking up a lot of sea spray as it raced away from shore.
Jake quickly attached it to the rail and raced back to the sky lounge, where Ashby was watching their pursuers through the binoculars.
She glanced at his gun and then frowned. “They’re getting closer, and I’ve got bad news for you. Their guns are bigger than your guns.”
Jake spun around and dropped to a knee, which allowed him to rest the rifle on the half wall surrounding the sky lounge. He adjusted his rifle’s optics and focused on the two identical boats pursuing them. They were starting to spread apart to avoid the wake produced by the yacht.
“Mexican Navy? Why are they chasing us like this?”
“Do you think it’s because of what happened back at the marina? I mean, we left a pile of bodies behind.”
“Maybe, but this seems like a lot of effort for the Mexican Navy to chase us down over a handful of thugs.”
Jake looked through the scope again, and he saw a Mexican sailor standing on the bow of his response boat. He was studying Jake through his binoculars and then began to wave his arms to his companion boat. They immediately separated and picked up speed.
“They’re gonna flank us!”
“Jake, what do we do? I get it now. Those are real machine guns. We can’t fight them off.”
Jake turned around and walked back to the instrument panel to study the gauges. So far, the Grand Banks was performing up to its full capabilities. Just as he was about to turn around, something glistened in the distance and caught his eye. He raised his rifle once again, but this time pointed it ahead of them, to the west.
“There’s a freighter up ahead. I don’t know what the Mexican Navy wants with us, but we have to be in international waters at this point, or at least close. If they plan on boarding us, or worse, then I want some witnesses on our side.”
“A freighter?”
“Its captain and crew. After what we went through at the marina yesterday, I don’t trust anything related to Mexico right now. Maybe the freighter will intervene somehow if these guys overstep their authority.”
Ashby shrugged and took the rifle from Jake. “It’s all we’ve got. You navigate, and I’ll keep watch on their progress.”
Jake glanced back and muttered, “It’s gonna be close.”
Chapter 23
The Pacific Ocean
Off the coast of Baja California
The Mexican SAR Defenders had closed the gap, but Jake was also getting closer to the enormous container ship, which ran on a southeasterly course in front of them. The massive Panamax, a term given to ships capable of travelling through the Panama Canal, was nearly one thousand feet long. The ship was ambling along, making its way to the canal, but its crew was enjoying the spectacle of the chase. They were lined up along the port-side railing, waving and slapping the top of the rail as if they were cheering on a horse in a race.
Jake turned off the autopilot and steered the Grand Banks slightly to the right in order to cross behind the massive ship. He didn’t dare cross her bow, deciding instead to take his chances with the wake.
“I don’t know for certain, but I’m gonna bet that ship is sailing in international waters.” Jake explained his plan to Ashby. “Without our radar, it’s impossible to tell where we are in relation to the shoreline.”
“If I remember correctly, international waters are twenty-four miles from shore, or something like that. Territorial waters are right along the coastline, but we’re so far out now, I can’t even see the coast anymore.”
Jake guided the Grand Banks to the right one more time. One of the Mexican response boats veered off to the left to cross the bow of the container ship, a move that was sure to anger the captain. The other kept pace with the Grand Banks as she slammed into the first of the container ship’s ten-foot wakes.
“Hold on!” he yelled.
The hull crashed through the water, forcing the bow upward, but it quickly corrected and crashed down. Jake turned the wheel to the left as he prepared to ride the wake on the other side of the Panamax.
Ashby yelled excitedly, “Their boat was in the air! I saw its props!”
Jake glanced over his right shoulder and noticed the smaller chase vessel had lost control momentarily, forcing the crew to slow while they righted themselves. He continued forward toward the aft side of the container ship.
“Here we go again!” he shouted as the bow began to rise up the swale until the hull broke the crest of the wake and slammed down on the other side.
“Jake, the crew is cheering us on like it’s some kind of game.”
Jake leaned forward and saw a dozen or more men waving their arms, encouraging them forward. Jake slowed his speed to mimic that of the container ship. They were riding parallel to one another, barely a hundred feet apart, as the Grand Banks remained in the shadow of the massive vessel.
“They’re behind us again!” yelled Ashby.
“In front, too!” Jake hollered in reply.
Ashby went to Jake’s side and wrapped her arms around his waist as they waited to be intercepted, boarded, and then—
Suddenly, without warning, they were drenched in water.
The crew of the Panamax ship was using their water cannon anti-piracy system to send a barrage of water over their bow and behind their stern. The volume of water was so large that it caused the Grand Banks to shudder and veer off course slightly before Jake corrected her.
“What are they doing?”
“They’re giving us cover! They’re trying to help us!” he shouted his reply. Then he pointed to their rear. “Look!”
Another water cannon drenched the Mexican pursuers. Likewise, the cannon used to mask the motor yacht’s presence was turned on the response boat. The same approach was being used against the oncoming vessel.
“It’s working!” shouted Ashby, pointing to their rear. “They’re falling back.”
“The one in front just veered off and is turning around!”
The two of them jumped up and down in the sky lounge, fists pumping in the air, and exchanged high fives. They both ran to the back of the sky lounge and saw the response boat turn across the stern of the container ship and disappear. This elicited more joyous hugs.
Jake broke their embrace and said to Ashby, “Let’s go thank our new friends.” He set the autopilot to match the ship’s pace and direction.
He took Ashby by the hand and carefully exited the sky lounge. They eased around the rail onto the foredeck. It was wet, but they were able to keep their footing. High above them, two dozen Asian men were hollering and applauding. Jake couldn’t understand anything they said, but they were clearly pleased with their water-cannon assault on the Mexican Navy.
Jake waved to them. “We must be in international waters or they would’ve never helped us like that.”
“They’re heroes,” said Ashby as she waved also. Then she turned serious. “Now what?”
“Well, I vote we ride alongside for a while to catch our breath and figure out what our options are. One thing is certain, we just burned up a lot of fuel.”
Chapter 24
The Pacific Ocean
Off the coast of Baja California
The container sh
ip traveled southwest at a slow rate of speed, and the afternoon winds kicked up, making it increasingly dangerous to run alongside the thousand-foot-long vessel. Jake steered away from the ship and slowed the Grand Banks so they could stop and regroup. After confirming there weren’t any Mexican naval vessels lurking nearby, they sat down with a cocktail, the laminated charts, and a notepad.
“I can’t believe how much diesel we wasted getting away from those idiots.” Ashby continued to assist Jake in the calculations, but she couldn’t help but complain about their predicament from time to time. “Other than slowing down, what are our options to conserve fuel?”
“There are so many factors to consider. Weight is one of them. We could toss stuff overboard, but other than furniture, we aren’t carrying anything heavy that would make a difference.”
“Maybe heading due south will help,” added Ashby. “We’re riding the current and the wind is behind us. If you throttle back slightly, we might maintain sufficient speed to take advantage of the conditions and conserve fuel.”
“Yeah, makes sense.” Jake sighed and leaned back. He glanced through the salon’s windows that had been shot out.
Ashby walked behind him and rubbed his shoulders, trying her best to relieve the stress that had built up inside him. “It’ll be all right, Jake. No worries.”
Jake reached back to touch her hands and nodded. Jake was still dejected as he stated the obvious, “It’s gonna be dark soon. Let me take another look.”
He was desperately looking for a bright side to cheer her melancholy mood, and his. He studied the chart and created a makeshift ruler using the cardboard backing of their notepad. He stood over the table and moved the cardboard ruler around, using their approximate location as a point of reference.
“Look at this group of islands.” He directed Ashby’s attention to a small grouping due west of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, and south of their present location.
“I can’t imagine those tiny specks are inhabited islands.”
“I didn’t say it was Hawaii,” he said jokingly. He pointed to the map. “There are four of them and they’re directly in our path to Guatemala. We know we can’t stop in Mexico, but I think there’s a small marina on this island based upon this symbol. We don’t need much fuel to get farther down the coast toward South America.”
Ashby took the cardboard ruler and traced an imaginary line to Guatemala. “We have to sail right past them anyway. Can we make it there before dark?”
“No, we’ll have another night on the open seas,” replied Jake. “We’d be there midmorning tomorrow if we get an early start.”
Ashby stood up and shrugged. “Works for me. Another drink?”
“Sure. It’s all we’ve got to pack on calories. I’m losing weight.”
Ashby pulled out the shorts she was wearing to reveal a two-inch gap from her waist. “These aren’t mine, but I wouldn’t have tried to get in them a week ago. Look, they’re too big for me.”
“We need fuel for our bodies, too,” said Jake. He accepted the refreshed drink from Ashby and they toasted.
“To fair winds and a following sea!” Ashby cheerfully raised her glass.
Jake let out a laugh. “Outstanding! Where did you learn that?”
“I think it was in a shark movie or something like that.”
“Great,” Jake began. “You had to remind me of the sharks.”
“Sorry, it’s the only toast I know. Let’s go topside and enjoy the sunset.”
As the big orange ball began to settle over the western horizon, Jake and Ashby were once again reminded that not everything in the world was falling apart. The sea life of the Pacific Ocean continued to carry on their normal duties, to the delight of their onlookers.
Off the port side, hundreds of mobula rays congregated and swam along the yacht. Occasionally, one would launch itself six feet above the surface before plunging back into the water with a splash. Others quickly joined in the fun—jumping, twirling, and belly flopping as they moved southward through the ocean.
Their winglike fins extended to sixteen feet, which helped them rocket upward as they flew into the air.
“This is incredible,” said Ashby in awe of the display. “Why do you think they’re jumping out of the water like that? They don’t appear to be going after smaller fish or birds.”
Jake stuck his head over the backrest of the sky lounge. “They’re showing off. It could be a mating thing.”
“Look!” exclaimed Ashby, pointing to a very small mobula. “It’s a baby ray. It’s adorable!”
“They’re faster than we are,” observed Jake as the school began to take the lead. “Look at them go. Hey, they’re turning!”
Jake ran to the front of the sky lounge and looked ahead of the boat. He was afraid they were about to run up on something. He was right.
A hundred yards in front of them, a gigantic humpback whale leapt out of the water and crashed downward, creating a huge splash. Jake grabbed for the throttles and slowly pulled them backward until the yacht was drifting on its wake.
“It’s a pod!” yelled Ashby as she pointed to a smaller female whale with her calf by her side. “This is beautiful to watch. Listen.”
Jake turned off the engines and they were surrounded in silence except for the waves lapping against the side of their boat. Another humpback emerged, his stocky black dorsal coloring blending in with the horizon.
“They’re singing,” whispered Jake as he pulled Ashby close to him.
“I’ve never heard anything like it.” The male humpback emitted a series of long, higher-pitched whistles, followed by several short, baritone chatters.
“Another one, Jake. They’re singing together.”
Tears began to flow down Ashby’s face as she became overcome with emotion. Then she made a profound statement, which was a reminder that everything in life happens for a reason.
“I hate what has happened to us because of Yellowstone. But without Yellowstone, you and I wouldn’t be standing right here, right now, and witnessing this wonderful part of the world we live in.”
“And,” Jake added, “we might not have found each other.”
PART THREE
Isla Socorro, a new adventure
Chapter 25
The Pacific Ocean
Revillagigedo Archipelago
Jake yawned as daylight greeted them for another day at sea. He checked on Ashby and then took a look at the makeshift plug in the hull, shaking his head in amazement at the resiliency of their repair. As he entered the salon and made his way to the helm, the sun was peeking over the horizon, its angle of ascent creating a bright glare off the port side of My Wet Dream. Jake fired the twin diesel engines. The roar and subsequent rumble shook the motor yacht to life.
“It’s a beautiful day for an adventure,” Jake said to himself with a renewed sense of purpose as he chose to make his way topside to the sky lounge. The vast Pacific Ocean spread out in all directions, with the water to their south and east sparkling with thousands of twinkles of light reflecting off the waves.
Thus far, the proverbial rocky seas had not been caused by the power of mother nature, but rather by their fellow man. Jake brought the throttles up to a steady ten knots and set the autopilot on a due south course. The twin diesels hummed along, pushing the yacht’s bow through the water with a continuous swishing sound.
Jake was relaxed, yet excited about the prospects for their day. In the open water, away from shore, he felt safer and more at ease. Thus far, their troubles had been due to encounters with other people. Not surprisingly. His mind wandered to what the day would bring.
By their calculations, they’d be approaching the Revillagigedo Islands within just a couple of hours. The charts and maps indicated a boat launch, not a marina, was located on the largest of the four islands—Isla Socorro.
The small archipelago was made up of four islands in the Pacific approximately two hundred fifty miles southwest of Cabo San Lucas and six hundred miles
west of the Mexican mainland. By their calculations, it was the closest land to where they’d encountered the Mexican Navy.
The largest of the four islands, Isla Socorro, pronounced so-KO-ro, took its title from the Virgin María del Socorro, which translated to Mary of Perpetual Succour, the Spanish word for help and relief.
Jake and Ashby had escaped the clutches of the Yellowstone supervolcano and searched for a safe haven ever since. Their hopes were dashed every step of the way, so their journey continued southward toward an unknown destination in South America, where the impact of the ash fallout would be less.
Jake looked through the binoculars and adjusted his vision to concentrate on the first land mass far off in the distance. Jake visibly shook his body to shake off the past and focus on the future. He allowed his mind to daydream for a moment. Could a deserted island in the Pacific be a safe place to ride out the apocalypse?
“Hey, Captain! Now that we’ve crossed the Tropic of Cancer, I come bearing gifts from the coffee belt,” said a cheerful Ashby as she bounded up the stairs to join Jake. She stood on her toes to give him a kiss before handing him a tumbler of coffee. “I’m surprised you didn’t make it already. You feelin’ okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Jake hesitated as he replied, “I guess, well, I was saving it.”
“Saving it for what?” asked Ashby.
“Well, just in case we couldn’t get any more,” said Jake as he tapped the ship’s wheel nervously.
“Listen, the last time I heard, South America was full of coffee beans. We may run out of food, but coffee will be everywhere to keep us jacked up!”
Jake laughed and took another sip. “Take a look. One of the islands is coming into view.”
Ashby brought San Benedicto into focus. Her geology background identified its origin immediately—volcanic.
“Can you imagine what it was like for the early explorers who ventured out into the unknown? They would sail until they discovered land. They’d chart the islands, plant their flag, and maybe even establish settlements.”
