by Sean Blaise
Smith redirected the spotlight on the rescue boat. Jack was sitting up on the bottom of the rescue boat and shielded his eyes when the light hit them. John maneuvered Beagle toward the rescue boat. The wake of the large tanker had momentarily flattened the large Ocean swells, but the storm had redoubled its intensity.
John needed to approach windward of the rescue boat and drift down onto them. With Beagles sails all down, she was rolling hard in the wind. He did not want to make the turn sideways until the last minute to reduce the roll.
“Get the ladder over the port side, get the life sling ready on the rescue halyard in case they need it.”
Charlie rolled down the halyard from the mainmast and clipped in the life sling. It would go around an unconscious or injured person and the students could use the mast winch to pull them back on board.
John could see Jack, but he couldn’t spot Lubanzi anywhere. He felt a lump in his throat as he realized that he was the one who had sent Lubanzi out there. John was responsible if he had died.
Beagle’s stern was caught by a particularly large wave and he felt her surfing down its face. He knew timing would be everything. Just then a red light on his engine readout started blinking an overheating warning. A second later an audible alarm began wailing from the engine gauges.
“Amanda run to the engine room door. Do not open it but tell me what you see.”
Amanda sprinted down the gangway and placed her face on the plexiglass view port to the engine room. She looked back up at John with a surprised look on her face. “I see green fluid everywhere.”
John knew instantly what had happened. One of his main engine coolant hoses had burst and the engine was rapidly overheating. It would auto-shut off in no time.
Terrified, John realized that he was still too far away from Lubanzi and Jack and the rescue boat. He pushed the throttle down and aimed directly for the overturned boat.
When John was a boat-length away the Beagle’s engine shut down. They were now adrift. John had one shot. The wind was still behind him.
John grabbed the life-ring attached to the rescue line and held it. Beagle was still headed right for the rescue boat and would soon run it over. John could see the look on Jack’s face, fear.
John knew only he could throw the ring. He waited and finally swung Beagle’s helm over hard to starboard. The large rudder coupled with the ship’s momentum caused Beagle to round up into the wind, even though the engine was no longer providing power.
John threw with everything he had. The life-ring arced toward the rescue boat, landing on its overturned hull. Jack scrambled forward on the rescue boat and grabbed the ring. He pulled it back along the bottom of the rescue boat. They were still too far apart, and John didn’t want to risk Jack swimming that far in the tossing sea.
“Put it over the engine!” John shouted through the gale. Jack looked confused before he looked back at what John was pointing at. The rescue boat's outboard engine was sticking up out of the water. Jack pulled the ring back and dropped the ring over the engine’s lower unit.
John dropped the end of the rescue line around the main sheet winch.
“Grind, Ben!”
Ben used the winch handle to bring in the rescue line, which was pulling the rescue boat and Beagle closer together. John realized with a sudden pang that there was no sign of Lubanzi. He was gone.
When they got the rescue boat close enough to Beagle, John knew it was time.
“Swim!” John shouted at Jack.
Jack didn’t hesitate as he dove into the water. Hand-over-hand, Jack pulled on the throw rings line pulling him to the rope ladder on Beagle’s port side. Jack climbed up the ladder and collapsed on deck. Just then, John saw a large hand raise itself over the side of the rescue boat—Lubanzi!
Chapter 63
The crew had trouble lugging Lubanzi’s huge frame back on board the Beagle. He was barely responsive, coughing up a seemingly endless amount of water. Now that he was recovered, John had other priorities.
“Bill, take them below and give them first aid. Smith and everyone else, stand by to raise sail.”
Smith moved forward when John grabbed her arm hard.
“We are going to talk about what you did later. Once the sails are back up, get everyone below. They don’t need to hear the message I’m sending to shore.”
Smith yanked her arm away from John, and said nothing as she headed back toward the foredeck to raise sail.
John could easily repair the ship's engine. He had spare parts on board, but there was no time. He needed to get Beagle steady again and moving. And most importantly, he needed to find the oil tanker to get his message back to shore.
John told the crew to raise the reefed mainsail, staysail and the still intact outer jib once more. He picked up his handheld VHF radio and made the call.
“Volk Tanker this is Beagle. We have recovered our man overboard. All persons back on board,” John announced over the radio.
“This is Volk, we are on path to intercept you again. How may we assist, Captain?”
“The is Captain John Otter of the sail training ship Beagle. Our heading is 295 degrees. Please come alongside to leeward and match our course and speed. We are in a distress situation and I need your ship to relay a message to shore and rescue facilities. I have no communications except this VHF radio and need you to maintain a close enough approach to stay in range until the message is transmitted.
“Captain, what is your distress?”
John watched as the last of the students on board went below. He was now alone at the helm, the wind howling in his ear. He turned his head away from the wind and spoke words he never thought he would have to say.
“Someone has been murdered aboard my ship and someone has sabotaged my long-range communications.”
There was a long pause as the oil tanker’s Captain was no doubt digesting what he had heard. Finally, the radio squawked. “Beagle, can you please repeat last transmission.”
“Captain, there is a killer on my ship.”
For the next three hours, John went back and forth with the Volk tanker over the VHF radio. The tanker had placed a satellite call to the Ocean Exploration School and John had been able to speak to the director.
The relief in his voice was palpable when he heard John’s. The school had feared that Beagle must have sunk in some tragedy as they couldn’t fathom how all three communications could have gone down together. John didn’t know how to break the news of Jennifer’s death.
“Sir I don’t know how to tell you this, but we’ve had a murder on this ship.”
“What?”
“Sir, listen to me carefully. Jennifer has died on this ship and it wasn’t an accident. Someone onboard killed her. I believe that it was the same person who destroyed the communications equipment. I’ve just recovered two man over boards, and I am still a few days from Brazil. I’m sorry but I can’t debrief you entirely like this. What is the plan?”
Much to John’s surprise, Brazil had dispatched rescue planes who had been scouring the area days after Beagle had lost communications. The tanker Captain informed John that he too had been ordered to alter course in order to intercept Beagle’s last route once he had received the report that Beagle was missing.
Now that the authorities had the exact position of Beagle including her course and speed, a Brazilian Naval destroyer would be meeting them in 24 hours and escorting them to port.
It was decided by all parties that since Beagle had lost her engine power, and the storm was still raging, that it was impossible to offload any crew or Jennifer’s body to the oil tanker without risking even more lives.
Since Beagle still had her sails, it was decided that she would continue on her current course. The Brazilian navy was altering their rescue planes to monitor Beagle's progress and position and the Brazilian destroyer would use those position updates to home in on her location.
Once the destroyer arrived, if it was safe, the students would be offloaded
to it and taken to shore, including Jennifer’s body. A compliment of navy police would board Beagle and ride the vessel into port to preserve the evidence.
John realized with relief that within 24 hours, this nightmare would be over for him. He said goodbye to the oil tanker and thanked them for their assistance. Setting the autopilot, John headed below. There was someone he needed to see.
Chapter 64
John found Smith in the chart room, still shaking.
“My cabin now!” John shouted at Smith.
Smith didn’t move. Lubanzi and Charlie and Bill all stood around, unsure what to do.
“You don’t want to do it privately, fine. I’ll do it here. You’re fucking done. Finished! If it’s the last thing I do, I will make sure you never sail again!”
“Captain, what are you talking about?” Bill began.
“Ask her, Bill. Ask her. Smith, what did you do tonight that nearly cost people their lives? Can you tell them?”
Smith started tearing up. Her lower lip, taking on a weak wobble. John’s blood was boiling. He could feel his anger raging by the heat in his face alone.
“No! You don’t get to pull that shit. Command is about consequences! You want to play Captain, without having the crushing weight of the consequences of every action you take on your shoulders!”
Charlie put his hand out to John’s chest to make space between John and Smith. John’s eyes flashed a rage none of the crew had seen before and Charlie quickly retracted his arm.
“I just thought that…” Smith began.
“You thought that what, putting up the ‘fisherman’ would get us to shore faster? What about the risks? Did you think about that? Did you think that your actions in this wind might have taken down the rig?”
“I thought we agreed.”
“We agreed to nothing! You made a decision as if this were your ship, which you have been doing since South Africa. This isn’t your goddamn ship, it's mine! And you know what? If Jack or Lubanzi had not been rescued tonight, their deaths would have been on my command, not yours! You had no right to raise that sail without my command. Goddamn you, Smith!”
Smith’s face hardened and the crying stopped. “I did what I thought I had to do. We have a murderer on this ship, and you have done nothing about it!”
“What would you like me to do? Lock everyone up?”
“Do something. Anything!” Smith screamed.
“I’m doing everything I can. You are confined to your cabin until this is over. You put up a sail without my orders to do so and you nearly killed people as a result. You are finished on this ship. You are not to leave your cabin. I have your watch. Lubanzi, make a note in the logbook that Smith has been officially relieved of all duties on this ship effective immediately. Log that it was due to gross negligence as a watch officer and absolute insubordination of the chain of command that nearly cost you your life. Sign the entry.”
John walked down to the galley door and opened it. Now it was the time to address the students.
Chapter 65
John found all of the students in the Galley. Bill had taken over the helm watch while John had to break the news to the students that they weren’t getting off just yet. Ben was looking out of the porthole and saw the large oil tanker departing. He panicked when he saw John.
“Wait where are they going? We’re getting on that ship, aren’t we?”
“Ben, calm down. It’s too rough and too dangerous to make a transfer. There is a Navy ship coming to meet us. They will be here at some point, in the next 24 hours.”
“What the hell is going on? I want off!” Rosie shouted.
“That’s not possible. And not safe.”
“We aren’t safe. We have a dead body on board,” Amanda said.
“How did she die?” shouted Ben.
“Wait..” John began.
“Stop the lying, Captain, was she killed, or did she die of other causes?” Ben asked again.
John tried to hedge. “I’m not a doctor.”
“You know the answer and you need to level with us. We have a goddamn right to know!” Rosie said.
“His non-answer is the answer,” Rick concluded. “Obviously, she was killed,.”
“Rick shut up,” John interrupted. Ben leaned in close to John and looked him in the eye. John knew his eyes betrayed everything. Ben’s face changed.
“Oh my God, it's true. We are sleeping with a murderer on board? Is that why you took us out of our cabins, and we have to sleep in the galley?” Ben asked.
“I just thought,” John began but he realized he was running out of hedging answers. It wasn’t his style.
“He did that so the killer couldn’t strike again. Isn’t that right Captain,” Jack said matter-of-factly.
“I did it to protect everyone.”
“Protect us from what?” Amanda asked.
“Protect everyone, from everyone else,” John replied.
“Do you have a suspect?” Rick asked.
“Enough!” shouted Lubanzi. “Let the Captain speak.”
John racked his head for what to say but he realized if he wanted to maintain control, the hedging had to stop.
“Jennifer appears to have been killed.” The students collectively gasped. “She didn’t die of natural causes. We are actively trying to get to shore as fast as possible for obvious reasons. You are all now sleeping together in one room to prevent anyone else from getting hurt.”
“She's in the fridge isn’t she…” Rosie asked her voice trailing off. Jack slowed-clapped as if she had won a prize.
“Finally. She gets it,” Jack finished.
John gave Jack a look. His near death experience had evidently not miraculously changed his personality.
“Your suspects. Who are they?” Greg asked.
“I don’t want to get into that right now. When the authorities get here, they will sort it all out.”
“We know it can’t be the people on that were on watch, so that eliminates Smith, Hanz, Ben, and Amanda. The crew probably voted to eliminate all of themselves, so if I had to guess, I would say the suspects are: Greg, Jack, Rick, Monica, Rosie and me,” Wayland said as if it was the most obvious information.
John couldn’t contradict him and say that Lubanzi was on that list too.
“If I were you, innocents, I would stay far away from all us killers,” Greg said slumping down on the galley bench.
Before John could say anything to stop it, Amanda, Ben, and Hanz all crowded on one side of the room. The crew was even further split now, between the innocents and the suspects.
Chapter 66
Back in his cabin, John collapsed. The night's events had drained him mentally and physically. He couldn’t believe his luck in recovering both his crew. The odds were astronomical against it. He also knew that once he hit the shore, no one would care about it. The only thing that would matter would be that he was the Captain who let a student get murdered.
Lubanzi had saved Jack's life. The guy deserved a medal. His shoulder was dislocated when they recovered him, from the rescue boat's rope. John had to pop it into place, while Lubanzi bit down on a rag to keep from screaming.
John wanted to trust Lubanzi more than anything. He couldn’t believe that a man that would work that hard to save a kid’s life could easily take another.
But Lubanzi, had been hiding something from day one and John couldn’t get past that. He also couldn’t explain why he was in the students’ quarters right before she died. And he had made no effort to try.
After his call with the director, John knew that the media shit storm and police would be a beehive when the ship finally returned to port. Since the incident, John had made meticulous notes, of everything he had done to preserve the evidence of that room. He knew he had to for more reasons than one.
John flipped open Jennifer’s application file once more and realized how bad it would be. Her family was massively wealthy and powerful in England. They were going to go after John, he had n
o doubt unless he could prove who killed her and why. The problem was, he was no detective and had little clue as to how he should proceed.
John laid out the list of names that he had written on post it notes. He had to make some progress and give the police a direction to investigate or it was going to be a ‘free-for-‘all most likely involving him.
John had eliminated everyone on Smith’s watch from the suspect list. They had not left the helm during the entire window, when Jennifer was killed. There was no way into the student's compartment from the deck, as the forward hatch remained locked while underway from the inside. All the kids on Smith’s watch had vouched that nobody had left the helm except Smith. That wasn’t ironclad but John had to assume that they couldn’t all be in on it.
He then thought about strength. Unfortunately, Jennifer was a tiny waif of a girl. He was sure that even Amanda could probably strangle Jennifer to death, so that wasn’t a way to eliminate the killer. On strength alone, anyone on board the ship could have killed Jennifer.
Finally, he thought about motive. Why kill her?
More importantly, why kill her, then? They had been in South Africa for a few days. If it was a hired hit, it could have happened there with far more ways to escape the crime.
The killer could have struck on St. Helena. The island was isolated with a terrible police force, that was more show than substance. The killer could have gotten away even easier there. Why was Jennifer killed when she was killed?
John remembered the diving accident before they left St. Helena. He remembered then that he had a feeling that Jennifer’s gauge line appeared like it had been cut. Maybe the killer had tried to strike then and had failed. But they had sailed on for days without the killer trying again. Why was she killed at the precise time that she was killed?
John leaned back against his bunk and closed his eyes trying to visualize his last interaction with her. He remembered how much her personality had changed since Beagle left St. Helena. She was a mere shadow of her former self. Something had happened on the island that had altered her completely. He had to find out what it was.
