by Larry Dodson
The boats slowly started making way from the island. About 400 feet from shore Mark put his boat into neutral as the others slowed as well. Jordan felt relieved as Mark began pulling him toward his boat.
“For a minute I thought you were gonna leave me in this dinghy.”
Mark smiled as he tossed a knife into the dinghy. “Cut your hands free and be quick about it.”
Jordan awkwardly worked the knife against the rope until he was able to free his hands. Mark had made no attempt to keep the dinghy from drifting slowly away from his boat.
“Now get out!”
“What do you mean, swim to your boat?”
“No. I mean swim back to the island. The girls left you about five days’ worth of food. Maybe ten if you ration it.”
“What if I won’t get out?”
Mark raised up his hand revealing a .45 automatic.
“If you were going to kill me why didn’t you do it on the island?”
Mark took careful aim and blew a large hole in the dinghy’s forward air chamber.
“You just can’t leave me here!”
Mark shot again, this time deflating the starboard air chamber. Jordan realized his fantasy of the group forgiving him was just that, a fantasy. He reluctantly slipped over the remaining chamber and slowly swam his way toward the direction of the island. As he swam a safe distance from what was left of the dinghy Mark put a final shot into the remaining air chamber sending it to the bottom.
The group had handed down the cruelest, yet humane punishment they could agree on. Jordan’s inevitable fate would depend on his resourcefulness as to whether he would live or die.
Chapter 20
South
As the boats raised their sails, not one among the group looked back at the small island. The overhead sun illuminated the crystal clear water under their keels as the boats took on a triangle formation. Brandon and Judy once again enjoyed Sparrow under full sail. The gentle rhythmic motion of weaving through the small swells became hypnotic, if not intoxicating.
The steady afternoon breeze created all the energy needed to propel Sparrow comfortably along at her maximum hull speed of six knots. Judy, basking in the sun lazily kept her hand gently on the tiller using minimum pressure to hold course. The best remedy to wash away a bad memory was the mix of clean air and warm wind.
At this moment no one seemed to mind aimlessly sailing with no particular destination in mind. They seemed to relish in the simplicity of the moment. Soon enough their uncertain future would force them to return to reality, but for the next few hours they didn’t seem to care.
Eventually their elation, as comforting as it was, would have to be replaced by having to start making plans for surviving in an alternate reality.
“What do you think is happening back in Palmetto?” Judy asked.
“Probably not good. I read once as much as seventy percent of the people would die in the first year of a national catastrophe.”
“I think your figures are wrong.”
“Maybe, hell I don’t remember for sure but imagine trying to survive in a world without food, electricity or drinkable water. How long do you think the population is going to last?”
“I agree, a lot of people are going to die. Especially the older ones. I’m not sure I would want to live in a Mad Max world.”
“Sweetie, you’re living in one now. The only difference is we have a way of trying to find a third world country that has learned to survive most of those hardships. We might end up in a country that’s ruled by a corrupt government, but what the hell, aren’t they all?”
“Agreed, they're all pretty much the same.”
“Besides, look at all the people trying to survive on welfare and still going hungry at that. We’ve really become a dumbed down nation totally unequipped to survive in the real world. Too much dependence on bureaucrats designing our lives. Like Reagan said, “Government isn’t the solution, government is the problem.”
“Okay, at our age what are we going to do for work? Do you really want to have to start learning a foreign language? I know I don’t.”
“Yeah, me either. Nobody said it would be easy. Look at it this way, we’re sailing off on a grand adventure.”
“Kind of like what we just left?”
“Well, we survived the first round didn’t we? And even at our age. I think of it as a good experience.”
Judy had to laugh as only Brandon would categorize events that took place on the island as “good experiences.”
“Man, what I wouldn’t do for a cigarette right now.”
Judy silently took it back. The fact that Brandon was forced to quit smoking was an exception to all the bad things that had happened.
“Where did you stow that shortwave radio?”
“Don’t try to look for it you’ll never find it. Take the helm, I know where it is.”
A couple of minutes later Judy entered the cockpit with the small radio. Handing the radio to Brandon she once again resumed control over the boat. Brandon attached the wire antenna and crossed his fingers...
“Let’s hope we have better luck this time.”
The garbled noise of a distant radio transmission started blaring from the tiny speaker.
“I wish this thing had a better tuner.”
Judy watched as Brandon hovered over the small radio. She subconsciously used her fingers to twist the ends her hair.
“What do you expect for thirty-nine dollars? You get what you pay for.”
Between what sounded like Morse code, a barely discernable conversation in a foreign language, static, static and more static, Brandon quickly lost patience and tossed the radio overboard.
Judy couldn’t resist commenting, “Great, now you’re going to take your frustration out on the fish.”
If they were ever going to find out what was happening outside their watery world it would have to come from another source.
“Start a new wish list, first on the list buy a better radio so the next time the world falls apart we’ll know what’s going on.”
As the late afternoon wore on, the conversation centered on the positive lessons they had experienced. One, there is safety in numbers, two, carrying a weapon to protect yourself isn’t a bad thing and three, don’t trust strangers and finally four, don’t join a group ruled by a dictator. Failing to follow the four golden rules had nearly cost the men their lives.
As the sun began to set Richard’s voice came over the VHF radio.
“Well, what do you guys think? Where do you want to go?”
A few seconds later Mark answered back. “LuAnn and I don’t care. Anyplace is better than where we were.”
“OK, one vote for anywhere. What about Judy and Brandon, any suggestions?”
“Well, we were thinking at some point being stuck in hurricane alley is going to bite us in the ass. If we found a terrific little island around here we would still have to move come June. We suggest heading south, preferably to a good hurricane hole.”
“Sounds like your suggesting somewhere near Panama? Ecuador? Venezuela?”
“Anything of those destinations works for us.” Mark remarked.
“That sounds good to me as well. We’ll have to sail south past Cuba, unless you guys want to go north and cross over near Miami again.”
Richard was right. There was only one real choice.
“South.” Cued Mark.
“South.” Brandon added.
“South it is. I’ll set a southerly heading and let you know what it is. Everyone stick together.”
Judy went below to make a new entry in Sparrow’s log book. She filled in the date and time. Pausing to contemplate what to enter into the third bracket the answer suddenly came to her, Destination Unknown.
More
Larry Dodson
Please turn this page for a sneak preview from
Destination
Unknown 2
Sailing Into Chaos
To be released
Summer 2015
Chapter 1
Going Where?
It had been three weeks since the nationwide power grid had gone down. Memories of escaping the sleepy little town of Palmetto, Florida created images of carnage and brutality only a country collapsing could paint.
Four sailboats originally took advantage of the cover of darkness to distance themselves from the impending doom. One of the boats in their group proved to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing and was fatally cut from the flock. Now there were only three.
The surrounding sea shimmered with small teal wavelets as a light breeze gently nudged Sparrow along on a southerly heading. Judy maintained a safe distance from Mark and Richard’s boats as the small convoy enjoyed the spectacular sailing conditions that morning.
“How’s the helm?” Brandon asked.
“She’s steering great. How are the batteries doing?”
Brandon re-entered the cabin to check on the status. Thirty seconds later he popped his head out of the companionway door to report, “House battery topped off and motor batteries at nearly full charge, anything else?”
“Yes, if you want to take over steering I’ll fix us a quick snack.”
“You read my mind,” Brandon said with a smile. Reading his mind had nothing to do with it. She never knew him to turn down a snack.
The slow small swells gently raised and lowered Sparrow as the lazy afternoon wore on. The VHF radio broke the peaceful serenity.
“This is Richard, how are you guys doing back there? Over”
“Mark here, LuAnn and I are doing fine. Can we pick up the pace a little? Over.”
“That depends on Sparrow,” Richard replied.
“What’s the rush Mark? Judy and I are enjoying the relaxed pace. Besides, Richard hasn’t picked out a destination yet.”
“I’m working on it. Give me a couple more hours and Brandon, maybe you could sheet in a little tighter.”
“No problem. How fast do you want to go? Six knots? Seven knots?”
Mark keyed his mic still laughing, “In this light breeze, dream on.”
“Okay, how about five?”
“Works for me Brandon. Aren’t you risking a nose bleed at that speed?”
“You’re a funny man Mark. Over and out.”
“It’s nice to hear Mark laughing,” Judy said.
“He doesn’t seem to have any remorse about having to kill George,” Brandon replied.
“Why should he. Anyone of us would have had no problem pulling the trigger on that snake.”
“That’s true. I should have listened to my gut instinct. We’ll never team up with anyone we don’t feel totally comfortable with."
Brandon tightened the mainsheet traveler creating a flatter sail and increased Sparrow’s speed by a knot or so.
Brandon and Judy were well aware of the fact that the warm Caribbean water could turn wicked at the drop of a hat. Having recently weathered a treacherous storm, they preferred to sail Sparrow with as little a strain on her rigging as possible. They believed it better to bend with the wind than stress their boat resisting the fury of a big blow.
Sparrows rigging and sails had been recently replaced but an old boat by its very nature is just waiting for something to break. In a new world lacking parts for repairs. The smart thing to do was to sail her well within her limits.
As the day waned the clouds created a beautiful sunset. The colorful flaming yellow gave way to fiery red billows that slowly transformed into a drab gray horizon. With the last remnants of color dissipating in the west the stars slowly made their nightly appearance in the eastern sky.
“Have you seen my sextant? I think I should get in a little practice.”
“I’ll get it for you, you’ll never find it.”
Judy was right he wouldn’t have.
“You need to hurry, I need to be able to see the stars and the horizon at the same time.”
“Why didn’t you think of looking for it earlier?”
“Forget it Judy, I don’t want to put you out. I’ll find it tomorrow.”
“Are you getting in one of your moods?”
“I’m just tired of never being able to find where you pack stuff on this boat.”
The stress they had endured since leaving Palmetto was starting to have an effect on Brandon’s nerves. A welcomed pattern interrupt came in the form of Richard’s voice once again hailing the boats over the radio.
“Listen up guys, I think our best bet is sailing toward Panama.”
After what seemed like a long silence Mark’s voice came over the radio.
“That’s a long way from here skipper.”
“Yeah, I estimate about 1,100 miles.”
Brandon cued his mic to add, “Why Panama, nothing closer?”
“It’s the only country I have any firsthand knowledge of. When I was in the Navy we crossed over through the Canal in “84”.
Mark rejoined the conversation. “So I take it you’re thinking about cutting across between Cuba and Haiti? Over.”
“Yep, then we’ll swing past Jamaica and we’re home free. Over.”
Brandon had expanded the area on his chart plotter to view the proposed route. “The gap between Cuba and Haiti looks to be about 50 miles wide. Are you comfortable with that? Over.”
“More comfortable than choosing the alternate route; sailing between Miami and Cuba. Besides, I don’t think any of us are really up to backtracking to the north. If you guys have any better ideas I’m all ears. Over.”
Mark agreed with Richard’s choice, “Panama works for LuAnn and me. Over.”
“Judy and I agree as well. Over”
“We have about three hundred miles before we make the pass between Cuba and Haiti. I know I don’t have to say this but keep your eyes open for other boats. I don’t expect any problems from the Haitian’s but if we get harassed by the Cuban military it might prove interesting. Over.”
“Any chance we can sit it out in Cuba?” Brandon asked.
“If they give us the same kind of welcome we gave the refugees fleeing Cuba when Castro took over, definitely not. As far as Cuba is concerned were heading for the Canal Zone and have no intentions of making landfall on their soil. Over”
Brandon ended the conversation with one more question. “Do you have any particular destination in mind when we get to Panama?”
“We’re just going to wing it when we get there. We’ve got a lot of water to cross before that happens so stick close together and don’t lose track of each other. The barometer is holding steady so I don’t anticipate any major weather change tonight. That being said, it’s still unpredictable tropical waters. Richard out.”
There was nothing more for Brandon and Judy to do but prepare for a comfortable night’s sail. They discussed the order of the two on, two off watches they would keep. The moon was rising late in the evening and would aid their ability to keep track of their companions in the dark.
Tomorrow Richard would issue emergency rendezvous coordinates in the event one or more of their boats became separated from the group due to adverse weather conditions.
As Sparrow gently rolled back and forth to the rhythm of the wind, Brandon and Judy had no way of knowing the ever increasing challenges they would soon encounter as they slowly sailed into the night.
Chapter 2
Detour
The predawn hours found the group sailing dangerously close to the third largest Island in the Bahamas. Great Inagua Island. Rich in lore and heavily documented with historical fact, the island had borne witness to many a treasure filled galleon unintentionally finding its final resting place on the sandstone shoals.
“This is Richard, are you guys listening out there?”
Judy responded as well as Mark over the radio.
“Sorry to spring this on you guys at the last minute. In an hour or so we’re going to be nearing the entrance to Mathew Town Harbor at the southern tip of that island laying off to our port side. The book says the lighth
ouse is active but I didn’t notice it blinking. My question is what do you think about going into the harbor? I think we should try to find out what’s happening back home before we totally commit to Panama.”
“This is Brandon. What’s the island like? Over.”
“Listen Brandon, I can recognize all your voices over the radio. I know its protocol to say “over” but let’s get real. Unless you guys have a problem I say we drop the “over and out” stuff.
“I don’t really care but if you start stepping on my transmission I want to go back to protocol.”
“No problem Brandon. What say ye, Mark?”
“Whatever.”
“All right then, to answer your question Brandon, the port of Mathew Town to the States. I figure it’s our best shot at picking up reliable information.”
“Aren’t we taking a chance on getting our boat’s confiscated by going in with weapons onboard?”
“No, that’s not how it works. For one, we’re not going to stay there, and two, you’re allowed to enter their jurisdiction with a gun on board. They won’t try to take away our guns as long as we don’t try to bring them ashore. There shouldn’t be a problem with anchoring our boat’s, raising quarantine flags, and waiting for them to send their custom’s official over to check us in. Just like any other cruising sailboat.”
“Since we don’t know how far south the power outage has affected other countries, it will be interesting to see how they accept us.”
“Yeah, for one thing our dollars are probably worthless by now.”
“That’s a safe bet, Mark. There’s only one way to know for sure. Are you guys in?”
“We’re game.” Brandon answered back.
Mark adding, “Count us in as well.”
“What else do you know about the island?” Mark asked.
“From what Amanda read from our cruising guide, it’s a decent size island with a population of around 1,200 people. What makes the island stand out from the rest, is a large inland lake. I think if I remember right it’s called, Lake Rosa.”
