The restaurant was within walking distance of the marina. We made our way down the busy sidewalks till we found the place and went in and sat down in a booth which looked like it was the last one available. The walls were brightly painted with island scenes depicting life here through the past centuries – from old, tall sailing ships right through to the cruise ships of today. The pictures of the cruise ships on the wall prompted me to ask Tom the name of the ship Ava and Evonne were on.
“Damn, I don’t know,” he said.
Back in Nassau there were only two of the large cruise ships at the dock. Here in St. Thomas, as we made our way into the harbor, were a half dozen, all of them looking pretty much the same and each carrying at least a thousand passengers.
“That’s like 6,000 people,” I said. “The chances of finding two girls amongst all that are slim to none.”
I was feeling kind of anxious to get to St. Maarten. I was also feeling a little guilty about having some new found feelings toward Ava. After all, I was truly emotionally involved with Linda and I didn’t really want to tempt that fate.
“Besides, they said Virgin Islands. They could be on another ship at one of the other islands and maybe not on any of these in the harbor.”
I could see that Tom was a little disappointed but we both agreed that it would probably be a waste of time to look for the girls. We were on a mission and that mission was a high paying one. In agreement we finished our meal and headed back to the marina.
It was still before noon and we figured we would get back to the boat and get started south toward St. Maarten. After another stop at the customs office we informed the dock attendant that instead of spending the night we had decided to head south. We had already paid for the night but the hundred dollars was no big deal. Time was, and we needed to be in St. Maarten trying to find Bruce.
Chapter 8
Making our way back out of the harbor and past the large ships, we wondered which one of the big cruise ships might be the one the girls worked on. Each of the ships pretty much looked the same and each sported a royal name of Princess of something or other. I never thought that knowing the name of their ship was something we needed to know. Then again, I didn’t think we would be headed this far south a few days ago.
Finally out of the harbor, we programmed our satellite navigation system for the island of St. Maarten. It was less than a couple of hundred miles to our south and we had plenty of time to get there before the sun found its way beneath the western horizon.
We checked the charts for information on our next destination and found that the island was actually split in half with the French owning part of it and the Dutch government owning the rest of it. It looked like there were quite a few safe harbors all the way around the island.
Since André was of French descent, we decided to arrive on the French side of the island. The sun was high and bright in the sky and the ocean still quite calm. It reminded me of a large lake as there were virtually no waves noticeable except those you could see lapping themselves up onto the shoreline.
Once away from the harbor and past the still busy launches of the cruise ships, the ocean was ours with nothing in sight as we made our way further south. Again, the boat sliced its way through the calm ocean and the ride was relatively smooth and comfortable.
We had all of fifty hours of running time on the boat but it seemed that with every new challenge came more confidence in our big boat’s abilities. The April weather was warm and the days were growing longer. That was to our advantage for comfort. Something about being on the ocean at night always heightened my senses and added just enough of an edge to make me uncomfortable, especially in unfamiliar territory.
By late afternoon the satellite navigation system showed us to be about 30 miles north of St. Maarten. As we got closer I could see that the north side of the island afforded no good anchorages or places to tie up. From the charts we could see that the best entrance to a good safe place would be on the western side into Simpson Bay.
As we came around the northwest side of the island we could see a large airplane making its approach to an airport situated on that side of the island. Simpson Bay was huge and once inside we could see a lot of activity further to the northeast towards a place called Marigot. We entered the harbor on the Dutch side and somewhere near the middle of the bay crossed over an invisible line into French waters.
We headed for a large dock area and eventually found a place to tie up to. We were easily the most exotic boat in the harbor and as we approached the dock there were a number of young locals eager to assist us in our docking efforts.
The dock was busy and this presented me with my first real challenge for fitting a 38 foot boat into a 40 foot hole. There were no cheap boats here. Both the one in front and the one that would be behind us at the pier, although not exotic like ours, were equally as valuable. OK, I thought to myself, nice and easy.
I think Tom was thinking, OK, now don’t embarrass us. The water was calm enough that when we were about 20 feet off the dock I had Tom throw a line from the bow and then the stern to some people on the dock offering their help. They literally pulled us right up to the dock. Damn, I thought, how fortunate was that? Once tied up, the boat drew quite a crowd from the dockside restaurant.
I paid our dock helpers with U.S. cash. They were more than grateful and offered their services for any other needs we might have. Without a word spoken, the boat said it all. We had money and these guys knew it.
With the boat tied up to the dock, we cleared customs and decided to get something to eat. We walked down the street looking for a place when we heard some familiar songs coming from one of the establishments. The place was called David’s and when we went inside we found a long-haired musician perched up on a stool singing to the tourists who had decided to eat there.
“This looks good,” I said to Tom as we made our way inside.
The place was a split-level and we opted for a table on the second floor which looked out over half of the bottom floor as well as the bar that ran from the front to the back. Even with the place packed, it didn’t take long for us to order and for the waitress to bring us our food.
“Now what?” Tom asked as I finished the last of my food.
“Well, we have a name and that’s where we’ll start. We will have to befriend some local and maybe he’ll know either Bruce or André. After all, Bruce’s dad said they had a home here. Someone should know these guys. Let’s head back to the dock and make arrangements for keeping the boat there for a few days.”
As we made our way back down the street to the marina, there was a crowd of people admiring the boat and I’m thinking, “Damn, man, even in ordinary paint that boat just screams out. As we got closer to the boat I could see that two of the guys that had helped us with tying up the boat to the pier were still hanging around.
“Man, these guys are never gonna leave after the tip you gave them,” Tom said.
“Well, that’s the cost of not making me look bad,” I said. “Besides, they may prove to be further help.”
As I approached, two of the guys that helped tie up the boat came up to me and asked if they could do anything else. They said they were brothers who grew up here on the French side of the island.
“Ah, so you’re French then?” I asked.
“No, mon. No, mon. No French. No Frog. This was our island long before the French came,” they said.
They explained that they did a little of everything from taxi to helping paint and repair boats.
“Well, I tell you what. How much for just looking after this boat while we’re here?” I asked them.
“Fifty U.S. dollars a day,” the one brother replied.
“Is that a total of fifty or fifty each?” I asked.
“No, mon. Fifty total.”
“Alright, here’s the deal. You got a car?”
“Yeah, mon, I said we taxi.”
“Ok, I’ll pay 50 dollars a day for one of you guys to stay here
on the boat. Not in it, on it and 100 dollars a day for the other one to drive us around.”
“Yeah, mon, that sound good to me!”
“Ok, done deal.”
It seemed that these guys might just work out after all. I told Tom as we boarded the boat that they had promised to stay out of our way yet be close by if and when needed. The one guy I spoke with said his name was Joseph and his brother’s name was Brian.
While sitting down below, I was looking over a large index card that I had written my loosely formed plans on.
“Damn, I kind of wish I had somebody like Steve here to help us,” I said aloud.
The words no sooner came out of my mouth than I was up from my seat and headed topside. Once up out of the boat I saw Brian sitting somewhat relaxed on the back of the boat.
“Where’s your brother?” I asked him.
“He up workin’ on his stereo system,” he informed me.
“Well, go get him,” I said in an excited voice. “I need to ask him something.”
As Brian went running down the dock, Tom came up and asked what was going on.
“Well, these guys grew up here. They are attracted to those with cash. I’m thinking they might know a lot more than I first figured they would.”
I guess my voice indicated urgency because in no time I could see Joseph and Brian both running back down the dock towards the boat.
“Problem?” Joseph asked as he stepped on to the boat.
“No, man, I was just thinking that since you grew up here you must know just about everybody who lives here.”
“Well, not everyone but we do know a lot of people.”
“Ok, well I got a friend who says he lives here but I don’t have an address for him.”
“Well, what his name be?” Joseph asked.
“It’s André.”
“André?” he laughed. “Mon, this is a French island, André big French name – way too many Andrés. What André’s last name be?”
“LaBlanc,” I said.
“Oh, mon, that no help.”
“Hey, wait a minute.” I ran back down below and grabbed a picture of Bruce.
What the hell, I thought, as I came back topside, I handed Joseph Bruce’s picture.
“This André?” he asked.
“No, it’s another friend but this guy and André are friends.”
“I see this guy before,” Joseph exclaimed. “Been awhile but I see him before.”
He showed Brian the picture of Bruce and he, too, said that he had seen Bruce before on this island.
I remembered the quick glance I had of André’s passport photo in the dresser drawer in the house in Nassau and remembered that André sported an unusual handlebar mustache.
“Joseph, André have mustache like this,” I said as I twirled the ends of my own overgrown lip hair.
“Yeah, mon!” he said excitedly. “I think I know who you speak of. He over at big airport.”
“Airport?” I asked.
“Yeah, mon. He have big planes there.”
OK, hold on, I thought.
“Planes? You mean more than one airplane?”
“Yeah, mon. Big, big airplane and old, too, mon. He have two big old airplanes.”
“These planes,” I said, they sit like this or like this?” as I held my hand level and then tilted.
“Like that man,” he said.
“Like this,” I asked again. “With a wheel in the back of the plane?”
“Yeah, just like that.”
Damn, I thought. It was a DC3 that dropped those bales of pot down into the water that morning almost six weeks ago and here are two DC3s that appear to be owned by Bruce’s friend André.
Man, we are right on top of it now, I thought to myself.
“OK, alright, hold on.”
I was sitting there rubbing my forehead trying to figure my next move. I was feeling an urgency to do something.
“OK,” I said. “Let’s take a ride to the airport. I’ll meet you at the end of the pier in 5 minutes.”
Although it was now nearly 10:30 at night, I felt the need to at least go and see these airplanes, and possibly André, for myself.
Even this late at night the airport was all lighted up and I could see a large airplane taxiing into position for its takeoff. The airport didn’t afford much in the way of security and Joseph was able to drive right into the hangar area at the end of the airport.
As we got closer I could see a DC3 sitting there. It was the only one there. When I asked Joseph about there being two of them, he assured me that there were two and that they flew them on a regular basis. He stopped the car right next to the plane and pointed over to the office building that André worked out of. It was closed up and no lights indicated that no one was around tonight.
“Oh, well,” I said, “we’ll come back tomorrow.”
Joseph offered to take us to Philipsburg where he assured us the nightlife was, but both Tom’s and my ass were dragging from a long day. Back at the boat, Brian was still sitting watch over the boat. I paid both of them before they left and asked them to meet us here tomorrow around ten a.m. With that they left and I headed for some well-deserved sleep.
The next day I awoke to a bustle of activity on the dock. Not only were each of the boats front and rear of us making preparations to leave but the marina restaurant which was a popular breakfast place had people waiting in line to be seated. It was about 9:30 and as I was sitting topside taking it all in, I noticed Joseph and his brother making their way towards the boat.
“Here,” he said as he stepped on board. It was a bag containing two large cups of coffee.
“Very good coffee,” he assured me.
“Hey, thanks man,” I said as I pulled one of the cups from the bag.
“This place seems pretty popular,” I said pointing up at the crowd gathering at the entrance to the restaurant.
“It’s ok.” he said shrugging his shoulders. “You want good breakfast, you go to Drew’s,” he said.
“Drew’s?” I asked.
“Yeah, mon, over in French Cul-de-Sac. Very good breakfast.”
“Well, Drew’s it is then!” I exclaimed. “Let me get Tom.”
As I turned to go below, Tom appeared in the companionway.
“Did I hear something about breakfast?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said handing him the bag with the other cup of coffee in it.
“What’s this?”
“Coffee,” I said, “from Joseph.”
I explained to Brian before we left that there was a refrigerator under the side seating area and there was stuff in there to drink and eat and that he was welcome to help himself. I wasn’t comfortable leaving the down below deck part of the boat unlocked when we weren’t there. After all we had money and guns there and I really didn’t trust anyone other than Tom.
Seeing the island during the day on our drive to French Cul-de-Sac was a lot nicer than our drive to the airport the night before. The main road pretty much ran around the edge of the island. This island was much different from the islands in the Bahamas. Here there were very steep hills that afforded great views at the top of every one.
Joseph’s little Citron car struggled to climb. For the most part the major road followed the shoreline where most of the tourist activity was and most of the people that lived there lived inland and in the hillier parts of the island. We passed through Grand Case which was a small town built right up on the beach.
I was impressed at how clean it appeared. All the homes there were very well taken care of and festively painted in bright colors. At one time, I thought, someone stood there looking out into this beautiful bay and decided it would be a great place to live. Then others followed suit and a town was made.
Drew’s restaurant sat right next to the road and did not look much like any restaurant I had ever been to before. The windows were literally shutters that lifted up and out. It looked more like a shed than an eating establishment. Once inside a
nd seated though, I totally understood the reason for the shutter design. Drew’s sat on a hilly part of the road and that particular part of the hill afforded an unrestricted view out and over that part of the island right to the ocean.
Wow, I thought, this is great! Joseph was right about the food, as well. With stomach full, my attention turned to the plan of the day which was to go to the airport to see if the other DC3 had returned from its flight and to talk to this André character.
The airport was bustling with activity and I could see hundreds of people coming and going from the main terminal. As we rounded the corner of one of the hangars, I could see both DC3s sitting there in front of the office which now had its front door propped open.
Ok, I thought, this is it. Our first real contact with someone connected to everything that’s going on. The anticipation was too much and I told Joseph to stop the car.
“Pull over there,” I told him. I needed a minute to think about my approach to the situation at hand.
“Ok,” I said. “Let’s keep the car here and walk over.”
As the three of us made our way over I asked Joseph which side of the island would be a better place to get arrested.
“Oh, this side,” he said. “For sure. The gendarme or army, they very serious. This side Dutch, much better place to deal with that sort of thing.”
I wasn’t sure why I had asked but I knew that part of me wanted to rough up this guy André for what had happened to me and Steve back at André’s place in Nassau. With that, I asked Joseph to wait for us in the car.
“Sure thing,” he said as he turned back towards where we had parked.
He turned around quick enough it made me believe he didn’t want any part of what might happen in the next minute or two. When I was about twenty feet from the door, a man walked out through it and the guy looked just like the passport picture I had seen that morning. Just as I was going to shout out his name he looked up at us and was visibly taken back at the sight of us.
Adventures In A Pair-A-Dice Page 10
