SS Pacifica

by Coleinger, Ronnie

  As the sun began to rise, I heard Becky yell my name. I quickly crawled out of the tent and joined her on the bow. A large vessel was cutting a course that appeared might intersect our course. Becky said, “Prepare to do a starboard tack.” I headed to the bow mast. Becky said, “Starboard tack, now.” I quickly did the tack at the mainsail while Becky did one at the foresail. Becky said, “Stanley, get the rifles and load both of them, NOW.” I quickly retrieved both rifles and loaded them. When I returned to the bow, the Pacifica-Two was moving behind the large vessel, but they appeared to be turning so they would come along our port side. I handed Becky her rifle and she slung it over her shoulder. I followed suit and stood on the port side of the vessel to see what the captain of the larger vessel intended. I strapped my pistol holster to my hip and handed the other pistol to Becky.

  I put my binoculars to my eyes and realized that the vessel was a United States Navel frigate. I could now see the United States Navel Jack flying on the stern mast. I spoke to Becky and said, “The vessel is a Navel Frigate. It appears they are looking at us with a high-powered telescope. They certainly know by now who we are.” Becky said, “Grab the flag and we will display it so they know we recognize their presence and authority.” I quickly stepped down the cabin ladder and pulled the flag from its holder. When I got back up on the deck, Becky helped me insert the flagpole into the staff that we had mounted on the stern a few days ago. Just then, we heard the marine radio squawking in the cabin. Becky ran down into the cabin and began a conversation with the naval vessel. Shortly, Becky came up on deck and said, “Help me lower and tie down the sails, we are going to be boarded and I have no say in the matter.” I quickly helped her and then returned my attention to the vessel that was now beside us.

  As we watched, the crew of the vessel launched a small-motorized boat and headed towards us. When they arrived on our port side, one of the crew took hold of the ladder, introduced himself, and requested permission to board. Becky spoke to him and said, “Sir, you are welcome aboard, but come alone. We are armed and will remain so during your inspection of our vessel.”

  When the man was standing on the deck, he explained that submersible vessels were on the list of vessel used by drug runners and the Navy was inspecting every suspicious vessel they came across. Becky said, “You may join me in the cabin. I will help you with your inspection.” Stanley, remain on deck and keep over visitors’ company. Becky passed her rifle to me as she climbed down into the cabin, followed by the Navel Officer. They were only in the cabin for four or five minutes before rejoining me on deck. The officer said, “I need a few minutes to contact the shipyard where this vessel was built and the Coast Guard of both Oahu, and San Francisco. Once my Commander has spoken to them, we will decide if any further action is required.”

  Becky retrieved her rifle and hung it back on her shoulder while the officer talked to someone on the vessel beside us. The officer was cordial and discussed our incredible sailing submersible with us while we waited. We waited for almost twenty minutes before someone began speaking to the officer on his radio. We soon realized that the Navy was convinced that we did not have drugs hidden in the hollow spaces of our hull. The officer finally spoke to Becky and said, “Captain Becky, the Navy now has placed your vessel on the safe list. If the Coast Guard or Navy contacts you in the future, it is now in our records that we have boarded this vessel and inspected it. You may now continue on your way. May I ask your destination?” Becky said, “We are headed through the Panama Canal and up to Long Island Sound near New York.” The officer saluted Becky and began climbing down the ladder towards his dinghy.

  As the crew hoisted their dinghy back into a watertight door in the side of the vessel, we returned our weapons to the cabin and then returned to the deck to set the sails again. We decided to leave the flag up on the mast and probably fly it in good weather from this point on. When we were back underway, Becky said, “I hope that is the last time we are boarded by the Navy or Coast Guard. I hate feeling like I have done something wrong, just because some shitheads have decided to run their drugs in the same waters where I see fit to sail my vessel.” I went down into the cabin and perked us some coffee. When I poured two cups and took them up on deck. Becky said, “Thanks for the coffee. I have now settled my nerves.”

  After I finished my coffee, I went down into the cabin, located the two 45 caliber semi-automatic pistol, unloaded them and reloaded them, this time being careful not to put a round into the chamber; I simply inserted the clips. Fred had built a small cabinet just under the top rung of the bow hatch ladder. The area was directly over the head. I opened the cabinet, which was only six inches high and placed the holstered pistols and two boxes of ammunition inside. I had also created a vertical cabinet for the rifles, within easy reach, to the right of the bow ladder. I now moved the rifles that were lying on the bed into the cabinet where they belonged. I checked each one to insure they were properly loaded and moved a couple of boxes of ammunition into the cabinet. I decided that once we were out into open water tomorrow, both Becky and I would fire the weapons to insure we were familiar with them. Becky was very proficient with rifles, but I was not so confident she could hit what she aimed at with the pistols. I had purchased a box of tennis balls for target practice. We would see how well Mrs. Becky could perform with a pistol in her hand. I hoped not to be embarrassed.

  Around noon on the third day out, we passed over the Murray Fracture Zone. As we looked down into the crystal clear water below us, we realized the wind was dying out. The farther we traveled, the less wind filled the sails. Becky stood on the bow looking out over the sea, trying to see white caps that would indicate a stronger wind. She looked at me and said, “This light air is not going to do. We will not make much progress at this rate.” The words had no longer left her mouth when we realized that the sails were now limp, there was no wind at all. The Pacifica-Two slowly stopped moving. I laughed and said, “Oh, this is special.” Becky turned to me and said, “Actually, it is rather special. I have only seen this happen once before in the Pacific Ocean. When a sailboat lays becalmed on the sea, my experience tells me that a very low-pressure area is causing it. The last time I saw this happen, a massive thunderstorm followed on its heels.”

  I went down into the cabin and retrieved my Blackberry cell phone. I had one bar of signal, so I did a Google search for becalmed seas. I could find no explanation or reason for such an event, but did find many stories of the event. It seems that a becalmed sea happens relatively often in the Bermuda Triangle, but I found nothing mentioned about such occurrences along the Pacific coast. After an hour, Becky said, “I suggest we raise the vessel as high out of the water as possible and then run the propulsion motors. Otherwise, we might sit here for hours, even days. There is no way to predict how long this event will last.” I agreed, besides I had wanted to run the motors for an extended time to see how the batteries held up. I decided to document the current used by the motors, and then watch for the first sign of a voltage drop. That voltage drop would tell me that I needed to start the generator and recharge the batteries.

  As we motored along the becalmed sea, Becky yelled, “Whitecaps ahead.” I ran down into the cabin to do some documentation of battery drain before Becky decided to set the sails once again. Once I had everything I needed, I started one of the generators and allowed it begin charging the batteries.

  When I returned to the deck, I could feel a slight breeze. Becky looked at me and said, “Let’s set the sails and get underway. The farther we get from this area, the better. You might want to look towards the west when you have a second.” When I looked up, I could see dark clouds on the western horizon. The storm was hundreds of miles from us, but it did give some credence to Becky’s claim that a storm followed a becalmed sea. I had found no evidence to support her claim on the Internet.

  As the vessel began to move, I shut down the propulsion motors. When I checked them, they were only warm and seemed to have not worked hard at all.
I now knew that we could run the motors for two hours straight without fear they would overheat. At least I knew that my calculations to determine the correct horsepower for the motors now seemed accurate. I had struggled trying to work out the weight and water resistance the vessel would offer to the propellers and motors. Becky had guided me to an engineering manual in her library that helped me work through the math. Again, the girl’s photographic memory had surprised me. How she could remember where to find formula’s she had only read once in a book, amazed me.

  I moved back up onto the deck and sat down in one of the deck chairs. I tried to decide if I had correctly figured the horsepower required to move the Pacifica-Two when submerged. The resistance should increase dramatically. I was certain I took that into account when I worked the formula, but whether or not I had added enough leeway to the calculations, I was now not certain. As I sat thinking, Becky walked over to me. She said, “Husband, something is bothering you.” I smiled and said, “I am sitting her questioning my engineering skills. I have concerns about the horsepower ratings I selected for the propulsion motors.” Becky pulled up the other deck chair and sat down so she could look me in the eyes. Then she asked, “Can we talk about your concerns and then find a way to perform a dynamic test to prove or disapprove your designs?”

  I looked at her and said, “While it is daylight, I would like to submerge and run the motors for a couple of hours. I need to run tests on them and insure they are not overloaded.” Becky said, “I will get my laptop out and locate my design specs for the propellers.” I followed her down into the cabin and found a pad of paper from one of the cabinets. When her computer finished booting up she said, “The propellers I selected for this vessel should move the Pacifica-Two through the water when submerged at 2.0 knots when turning at 1000 revolutions per second.” I wrote down the information and then began looking over the notes on my computer. I sat my laptop down on the eating table so Becky could see my work. As we worked through the formulas, Becky said, “I don’t see a problem, Stanley. Why are you so concerned?” I looked at her and said, “Gut feeling.” She patted my hand and said, “Gut feelings are important. Your concern is easy to test. Let’s take down the sails and submerge this vessel. We will run submerged for the next two hours. We need to test the fish finder cameras and the built in GPS systems anyways. Now is a good time.”

  Once we submerged to a depth of one hundred feet, we began watching the cameras and GPS to keep ourselves on course. The digital motor drives I had purchased for this vessel had digital display units on them. I could program the displays to show dozens of parameters. The display I chose showed the percentage of load for the motors. When the GPS unit read 2.0 knots, I read the displays and realized the motors were only seventy-five percent loaded. Becky kissed me on the cheek and said, “Stop worrying yourself to death. Your electrical engineering skills are superb. Some things are difficult to engineer until you have a test model.”

  As I spent the remaining hour testing the heat produced by the motors, I finally relaxed and accepted that the motors had the correct horsepower to propel the vessel without failing. I also was able to determine battery drain while running the motors. We should be able to run the motors full speed for forty-two hours continuously before we would need to surface and recharge the batteries.

  When we surfaced, we realized that the storm had moved closer. We still had cell phone service, so Becky checked NOAA’s weather channel on her laptop. It looked like we would be getting wet before morning. We would not be sleeping in the tent on deck tonight. We would have to move down into the cabin. I moved my deck chair up onto the bow and watched the beautiful scenery around me. I must have lost track of time while I sat there.

  I smelled something in the air and realized that Becky must be cooking in the cabin. I climbed down to see what the wonderful smells were and found her cooking fish. I had forgotten about the fish we had placed in the cold box. She said, “Did you work out whatever was bothering you?” I stood beside her and said, “Yes, thank you for your concern.” She giggled and said, “Good. Supper will be ready in a few minutes.” I covered the tiny wooden table with a tablecloth and got plates and silverware from the cabinet over my bed. When the table was ready, Becky said, “If you will fix the coffee pot, we will put it on the burner when the fish is done.” As I fixed the coffee, I spotted a small pan with steaming corn bread inside. I said, “You have gone all out tonight with supper. The corn bread looks wonderful.” Becky said, “It would be better with melted butter on it, but the honey will do just fine.”

  As we ate the supper Becky prepared, I said, “I will take the first watch if you want to sleep for a few hours.” Becky smiled and said, “You can wake me when it is my turn. I like watching the sun rising from the deck. I hope it does not rain tomorrow. I would like to spend some time on the swim platform. I think I need a bath.” As we talked, Becky said, “I would like to pass by Panama and make a loop around the equator. I have never crossed it and we will be close. It will be a few hundred miles out of our way, but I guess it does not much matter.” I said, “Taking some time to explore the wonders of this planet will do us good.”

  Then I chuckled and said, “The last time I crossed the equator, I got my ass beat with a large wooden paddle. The Navy guys had a tradition about crossing the equator. I was an outside contractor, but happened to be aboard as we crossed. That was a day I will never forget.” Becky giggled and said, “I can only imagine a bunch of men paddling each other’s bare asses as they run through a line of shouting males.” I laughed and said, “Who said we had bare asses?” She looked at me and said, “I know how male testosterone works and I am certain nudity and alcohol played a major role in the tradition.” I just laughed and allowed her mind to ponder the story I just told her.

  Chapter 29 – Crossing the Equator

  We had been to sea for eight days and decided to make a port of call in San Diego, California to pick up supplies. We had a list of items that we decided to put on the vessel: Dried fruit, squash, Bisquick mix, cereal in bags, more powered milk, and lots of honey, peanut butter, rice, noodles, dried beans and pancake mix. We wanted to take only things packaged in containers that would burn. Our tiny wood stove worked well for this purpose and if we saved up some of the paper and cardboard, we could use it to build a hot enough fire to dispose of tampons when needed.

  We were lucky enough to be able to anchor in a marina. It was only a short distance from the Pacifica-Two to the docks. When we first arrived, one of the employees explained that we could store our dinghy in a huge pole barn near the docks. The marina used the pole barn for equipment and boat storage and they did not charge us a storage fee. The fee for parking the Pacifica-Two for twenty-four hours was around one hundred and fifty bucks, so I guess they figured they would let us slip by without charging us for the dinghy storage. Becky had airbrushed the name of our vessel on the dinghy before we left San Francisco, so it was easy to see who owned the bright yellow dinghy.

  While we were at the office paying our docking fees, the manager called a taxi for us so we could do our grocery shopping. When the cab driver dropped us off at a large shopping center, he gave us a card with his cell phone number on it. He said he would pick us up and take our groceries and us back to the marina. The man was nice enough, but the taxi fair was rather expensive. We really did not have any choice in transportations, so I just paid the fee and tip and remained silent.

  When we entered the store, we quickly found everything we needed plus a few things. The store had a huge display filled with batteries that were marked, half off. I checked out the expiration date and could not find anything wrong the batteries. They were a name brand, so I was not concerned. As I began putting some of the batteries into the shopping cart, a store employee brought another pallet of the batteries and placed it beside the first. I asked him why the batteries were on sale. He picked up one of the packages and turned it over. On the back, he pointed out that the barcodes were smeared and ba
rely readable. He explained that the factory that manufactured the batteries was located nearby and they were trying to get rid of their mistake. I picked up a few more packages of the sizes we used and placed them into the cart.

  When the taxi driver dropped us off at the marina, we carried the six bags of groceries down to the storage building where we had left our dinghy. Becky remained outside with the groceries while I went inside and drug the boat and paddles outside and down to the water’s edge. I tied the dinghy to a dock and returned to help Becky with the bags. Once we loaded everything inside and began paddling towards the vessel, Becky said, “I believe those people with their huge cameras are taking pictures of the Pacifica-Two.” I looked over and realized she was probably correct. The cameras did seem pointed in that direction.