Poor Boy Makes Out: Chapter four - Spiral Dreams
Last Summer, after we were rescued from that island in the Caribbean Sea, that island that had been our home for nearly 4 years after our boat sank in a storm, Billy and I knew that things were going to be different from then on. You can't go through something like that with out some serious changes in your outlook and your orientation with life, especially your own life. Since returning to civilization we realized that it was time to finally stop just picking at the edges of our dreams and to commit to them completely. I have completely dropped out of public life and I've liquidated all my business holdings. Billy has all but closed up his rod building business. We are ready to move on to our new plans for the future.
One thing we realized is that we were ready to make the move to a life at sea. Shortly after we were rescued, we ordered our new boat. It was to be a 120' floating mansion. We spent weeks on her design and we now had only a few days to wait for her completion. The main salon was over 500 sq.ft. and Billy and I each had our own luxurious suits. There were ample quarters for guests and crew, a full galley with dinning salon. A machine shop, a wood working shop, and a place for Billy to make his rods. We had a movie theater, a 4-lane bowling alley and a hot tub. There were fishing decks fore' and aft'. We had 3 sundecks, one fore', one aft' and one amid-ships, high up on the superstructure.
We had decided to move back to Florida to have a home port right on the Atlantic and there was a new marina that catered to the needs of really big boats like ours. We planned on living aboard and at sea but we needed a home port where we could make repairs, take on supplies and have a little shore leave from time to time.
We really hated to leave Texas but it was time to go. Speaking of crew, we wanted to staff our boat with quality people that we knew and trusted. We chose some of our good friends from our circle of fishing friends to come with us. We were very glad to get Jim (Farmer Jim) Reynolds to sign on as our captain. We were well familiar with his excellent abilities at the helm. Another important member of the crew was going to be the chef. It was our good fortune to have Darrell (Badhabit) Milligan sign up as well. Our good friend James (Sidecutter) McKay signed on as chief mechanic and general maintenance officer.
I was sitting at my desk in my office at our home in Freeport when Molly stuck her head in the door, "Busy?", she asked. "No, not really. Just finishing up some last minute details. What's up?" She told me that there was a guy to see me about a job on the boat. A nice looking young man appeared in the doorway and said "Hi, my name is Wayne Butler." I said, "Well come on in here, Wayne Butler, and let's get to know each other." We talked a bit and he told me he was from North Carolina. He seemed young to me but he showed me his Merchant Marine papers and described a brilliant, if short, career at sea. He had an easy manner and smiled easily. He seemed quite confident but in a kind of quiet, unassuming way. He impressed me so much that I hired him on the spot. We needed a person that could help out where needed and had a wide range of skills and the ability to think fast. He seemed perfect to me.
We were shaking hands and saying good-bye when Billy came in. I introduced them and they hit it off immediately. Billy gave his approval of Wayne for the job and Wayne thanked us both. I told him to check back with me in a couple of days and I hoped to have a date of completion on the boat by then.
The very next day a rep from the company that built our boat called to say that it was complete and nearly ready for delivery. He wanted to know if we had decided on a name for her yet. Billy and I had had many long talks about what to name our new home on the sea. We agreed that it should be something that reflected us in a personal way. After many changes we finally agreed that the name "Spiral Dreams" was perfect. It had a kind of double meaning which did reflect on both of us. Spiral was a direct reference to that hand crafted BillyStiX Spiral Wrapped Rod that Billy made by hand, each one unique, each one different, never two alike. The other reference was to the fact that our dreams were always spiraling in an upward direction, always seeking bigger and better adventures in fishing and in sailing the seas. So then, It was settled. I told the company rep the the name of our new craft was to be Spiral Dreamer. He complimented me on the fine name and said that he'd see to it personally. He said that he would have the boat at our new marina one week from today, and it was a Wednesday. That gave us a week to tie up all lose ends and one more week end to say our good-byes.
The following Tuesday evening Billy, Molly, Jim, Darrell, James, Wayne and I boarded a 747 headed for Miami. Once there we got rooms in a hotel near the airport and the next morning we rented a large SUV and drove a few miles down the coast to our marina and our new boat. When we got there they already had her in the water. What a beauty! 120 feet of gleaming hull, dazzling chrome and brass and stainless steel....a real eye-catcher.
Darrell said he had a little something he needed to take care of and excused himself. It was still well before noon so the rest of us spent the rest of the morning getting our personal things aboard and stowed away in our respective living spaces. The supplies and equipment we had ordered werre beginning to arrive so James, Wayne, and Jim saw to that while Molly, Billy and I went on a grand tour of the boat. The craftsmanship was impeccable. Every detail, every amenity, every item of comfort, convenience, and efficiency was seen to and nothing had been left out.
James, Darrell and Wayne completed the boarding of all the supplies and equipment and caught up with us on the forward sundeck. By then it was getting on to mid afternoon and we wondered what had happened to Darrell. I looked down at the dock and here he came with a big grin on his face. He waved and motioned for us all to come on down and see what he had been up to.
We all went down and joined him on the dock and he announced that he had a special surprise for us. We all piled in the SUV and Darrell drove us over to a little place he had found that he had talked the proprietor into letting him take over the kitchen for the afternoon. Darrell had cooked up a whole sack of crawfish with all the trimmin's; red taters, corn-on-the-cob, and 'shrooms. He didn't hold back on the swamp dust either, judging by the way all of our lips were burning. Billy had flipped for crawfish every since the first time he came to Texas to meet all the good folks at the TTMB and he never missed the chance to have them when he could get them.
With full bellies and happy hearts we all headed back to the boat. We all had things to check on and we had planned to have the coast of Florida in our wake well before sun-up. Tomorrow we would begin our greatest adventure yet.
BANG! BANG BANG! I woke up, startled out of my wits. Darrell finally quit pounding on my door and came bursting into my suite yelling, "Hey you old coot, time to get your sorry tail out of that rack and come to breakfast, come and get it 'fore I th'ow it to the hardheads." I said, "Ummm okay, lemme get my heart rate down just a smigde and I'll be right down." When I entered the dining salon every one else was already at the table. Darrell met me at my seat with a hot cup of coffee and gave me a wink, "Listen here you old geezer, I'm your chef not yer nanny. Don't make me hafta come fer ya again." More winking. I said I'd try to do better and gave him a wink in return. That Darrell.....
After breakfast those with duties to see to carried on with what ever they needed to do while Billy and Molly and I went topside to greet the day. Darrell came up shortly with a pitcher of Bloody Marys and we sat around and discussed our future. At lunch Jim asked if we wanted to do any fishing the next morning. Billy and I just looked at each other and laughed. "That is the plan, my good captain," said Billy, "that is most certainly the PLAN". Jim said that he'd get Wayne to set up the down-riggers, fighting chairs and harnesses and every thing would be ready at dawn. He would see to it that we were in prime waters and we would spend the morning trolling for billfish. For the rest of the afternoon the excitement and anticipation was palpable all over the boat. We were about to fish for the first time aboard the Spiral Dreamer. The moment was now at hand!
I slept fitfully that night. I finally gave up about an hour before dawn and went on down to the galley to get some coffee going. Darrell was already hard at work the coffee was made and ham and eggs a grits and gravy were on the stove. "Well now! I just wish y'all would looky here who made it in good time with out me havin' to go roust him outa the sack. 'Mornin dearie, Sleep well?" There's that wink again. I snapped-to in mock salute and when he turned back to the stove I made a rude gesture at him with my hand. Every one laughed.
Breakfast behind us, it was now time to see what the day held for us fishing wise. We went up to the fishing deck and Jim and Wayne had every thing ready for us. Billy and I had tossed a coin and I won first strike. Wayne dropped the baits and the wait began...it began but it was a short wait. Whamm-o! Fish ON!! I jumped into my fighting chair and Wayne buckled me in. My BillyStiX Spiral Wrapped Rod was now in my hands and I'm getting control of my fish. He startled every one when he make his first jump.
It was a big sail and he seemed to want to spend as much time in the air as he could. He gave me several good jumps, complete with head shaking and tail walking. My heart was about to jump out of my chest. This fish was trying to pull me out of the boat. I was in complete control, thanks to my BillyStiX rod but I was letting him get his air and letting him show me his stuff.
In order to not tire him too badly I finally brought him along side the boat and Billy and Wayne released him to swim away and fly another day. What an exhausting fight that was. Billy and I were doin' the High five thing when the other rod went off.
Billy turned and raced for his fighting chair. Wayne got him in his harness and handed him his BillyStiX rod. Billy and I were both accomplished fishermen but I could tell by the look on his face that the power of his fish had surprised him. He got control of the beast and played him like a cheap fiddle, always in control. We all caught our breath at the fish's first jump. It was another sail and it looked to be bigger than mine had been. Billy started to whoopin' and hollerin' and he was having a great time. His fish was airborn for most of the fight. The spectacle of this great creature and his determination to escape his fate was a thing I'll not soon forget.
Watching Billy's skillful mastery of the contest was nearly as good as catching a fish myself. When the fish came along side Wayne and I set him free to rejoin his brother. We held up our BillyStix rods and touched them as two men about to have a sword fight while Molly took some photos of the two triumphant warriors and their weapons. The pics we took of the fish were awesome but that pic of me and Billy With our crossed BillyStix rods was my favorite.
That evening we were fishing a wreck that Capt'n Jim had put us on and it was a glorious evening. The last vestiges of a purple sky slowly turned to black and the stars came out, one by one, until the night sky looked just like a squillion flickering fire flies. The smell of the sea on the balmy Caribbean breeze was intoxicating. We decided to give the fishing a break and just enjoy the night sky for awhile.
We had planned to stop by the little dot of an island that had been home to me and billy for almost 4 years. We just had to see it again. For good or ill, that tiny island was a part of our lives now and we knew that we'd always be drawn back to it from time to time. I called the skipper and asked him to join us on the fishing deck. When he got there we invited him to sit with us and have cool drink. We asked him how soon he could have us at the island. He said that he'd have to take a look at his charts to be sure but he though that the could have us there by mid-morning tomorrow. Billy asked him to lay in a course for our island and prepare to stay there for the rest of the day. Jim said he'd see to it and excused himself to go set our new course.
We arrived about 10:45 AM and dropped anchor about 1/4 mile offshore. Wayne lowered the motor launch and Billy and I headed for the beach...the same beach that greeted us, what seemed like a lifetime ago. We got out of the launch and walked up to the edge of the jungle. We could see our huts and without speaking, I headed to mine and Billy headed to his.
Everything looked the same. the crude furniture I'd crafted from palm fronds and small tree limbs looked untouched. Except for the layer of dust and sand on every thing, it could have been only moments since I last saw what now filled my eyes. When I came out Billy was standing there waiting for me. Neither of us could speak yet so we turned and walked a little deeper into the jungle.
As if guided by radar, we arrive at the little pool of fresh water that had sustained us. It's black sweetness shimmering in the shade of the giant banana trees that surrounded it. I went to my knees and cupped my hands and slid them into the cool liquid. I raised my hands to my mouth and drank...wow! I had forgotten how great the water had tasted. Billy also drank from the pool and I could swear I saw a tear form in his eye. He quickly turned away, I thought, so I wouldn't see. I said nothing, I just smiled a knowing smile.
We found the little skiff we had been working on when we got rescued. Billy asked the question, to no one in particular, "Wonder how long it'd take us to fnish that little boat? I bet we could get around to the other side of the island with that." I didn't reply because I knew he wasn't really talking to me. Again, I just smiled and said nothing. As we headed back to the Spiral Dreamer we agreed to return soon, and often, to stay a few days and keep our huts in good repair and perhaps finish that boat while we were at it.
We went to the bridge when we got back aboard and consulted Jim about our course for the next few days. He reported to us that according to the weather radar, his charts, the ships instrumentation, and his gut feeling, that we were in great shape for the next several days. we agreed to spend another couple of weeks in the Caribbean and then on to points unknown.
We spent the next several months visiting strange and mysterious lands where the inhabitants were equally strange and mysterious. We had many wonderful adventures exploring the oceans of the world and all the wonderful places we visited. We caught every kind of fish that swims in salt water and we had accumulated an unknowable number of wonderful memories.
One night at dinner Jim brought up the point that there were some aspects of the boat that were beginning to need a little looking after. We all agreed that it would be nice to return back to Florida and spend a week ashore while the Spiral Dreamer underwent a few minor repairs and adjustments. We could visit old friends and lay on fresh supplies of our favorite commodities.
It's a real problem, trying to find some of the simple things like your favorite tooth paste or you favorite brand of breakfast cereal in some of the more remote corners of the globe. We all agreed that it was time to return home and we were all a little surprised to discover that we were so excited about it. Wayne surprised us all by announcing that he didn't think we needed to go back.
He said it would be a waste of time and we could easily wait another 3 or 4 months with out any problem. Jim let him know right quick that the decision was made and we were going to set a new course immediately for the Florida coast. Wayne acted sullen and began to pout but no one snapped. No one paid any attention to him as be began to mutter under his breath. No one noticed when he stood and left the room.
It took us a little over 2 weeks to get back to home port. During this time Wayne did his job but his here-to-fore affable personality and easy smile were no longer in evidence. He was quite and sullen and spoke to no one unless spoken to. If one of us tried to initiate conversation or tried to tease him into one of his generous smiles he'd just mutter some short, clipped answer and walk away.
We were curious but we still didn't realize the serious implications of his strange behavior. When we had docked and were about to get on the gang-way and go ashore, Wayne went clumsily by in almost a run, his heavy sea bag on his shoulder, he didn't look at or speak to any of us. Just scrambled down the gangway to the dock.
It was then that we heard the police sirens. We looked on in surprise and shock at the scene unfolding in front of our eyes. Wayne was running down the dock and 4 police cars were chasing him. At the end of the dock they had him surrounded and when he reached in his jacket pocket one of the cops shot him in the leg. We all went running over to the scene and the cops put up their hands to warn us off. A cop asked us if we knew the guy and I said yes He works for us his name is Wayne Butler. Even before I finished saying that the cop was looking at the ground and shaking his head. He said that we should all prepare ourselves for a shock. He wasn't exaggerating one little bit.
Some time back a plastic surgeon from Texas turned himself in to the FBI in Houston. He told the story of a distraught, deranged young man that came to him for plastic surgery. He wanted to completely change his appearance. The doctor said that he felt sorry for the kid and that he'd try to help him. The surgery went well and while the young man was healing the story came out and his true motives were revealed.
He told the doctor that his girl friend had been kidnapped by an evil tyrant that was the leader of an evil cult who wanted to do harm to his lovey girl friend. Where he made his mistake is that he gave his real name to the doctor. The doctor seemed to remember reading a story in the papers about a young man named Josh Johnson that was wanted for stalking the beautiful lady friend of a couple of celebrities from the fishing world and threatening to kill them all.
He did some checking and learned that this was the young man he'd just operated on. He was wanted by the law and so was his shoe stealin' dog Baxter. He had planned to get a job on the new boat that Molly's friends had and that he planned to kill them and save Molly and that they could live their lives the way they wanted from then on.
The doctor said that he told Josh that he now knew the truth and begged him to turn himself in to the authorities. Josh said he never would and that night he slipped out of the hospital and disappeared. The doctor wrestled with his dilemma for months and finally decided to come forward with the truth.
I looked at the bleeding young man on the ground and could not see even the slightest trace of resemblance to Josh Johnson. And now he was snarling so ferociously that he no longer resembled Wayne Butler any more either. As the ambulance attendants loaded the furious Josh/Wayne thing into the ambulance he swore his revenge. He looked at Molly and his gaze softened and he cried that he was sorry and that he would make it up to her.
The week passed slowly. I had called a friend of mine in Texas who was a fabulous carpenter and very good with machines and a general whiz at trouble shooting and fixing all kinds of things. Rick (Cool Change) Forester said that he'd be delighted to join our little band of sailors and he'd hop the first thing flying to Miami. We met him at the air port and we all had a great reunion. Rick was also a great singer and guitar player and that evening, on the forward sundeck, under a starry, moonlit sky, Rick sang and played some great song for us. We were 2 days away from departing on our next and greatest adventure and it was good to have Rick with us. The next morning he was still playing for us when the sun began to turn the eastern sky into a mixtue of orange sherbert and electric pink bubble gun. We took him below and got him settled in his quarters.
The next morning we gave Rick a tour of the boat and when he saw the small woodworking shop his face lit up and he said that he needed to go into town and check on something. About 3 hours later he shows back up...riding shotgun in a lumber truck. He jumped out and immediately had the driver loading his goods aboard the boat. We saw Teak-wood , mahogany, rose wood, cherry wood and birds-eye maple.
I asked him if he planned on rebuilding the entire boat. He just grinned and said that all this was just for a few little nick-knacks and some light trim work. He also said that he was going to make Billy and me both, our own rod racks for our suites, to hold our favorite BillyStiX rods. Billy had a small rod building shop aboard and we had been keeping all the rods in there. I don't know what Billy was thinking but I was having a vision of my new custom rod rack against the bulkhead, right next to the large porthole that looked out at the sparkling sea. And that fine looking rod rack was loaded with all my favorite BillyStiX Spiral wrapped rods.
The following morning we were getting ready to make sail. Destination, the far horizon. Darrell had whupped us up a good breakfast. We wanted to eat aboard ship so we could get an early start. We all went up on deck together after breakfast to watch Florida disappear in our wake one more time. The raidio was on and tuned into a local station that played island music, the kind with lots of steel drums in it.
An announcer cut in and informed the listening audience that during the night Josh Johnson had escape from the hospital right under the nose of the police guard that was staitioned outside his room. Details were sketchy and all that was known at this point was that Josh had escaped and no one saw him leave or knew how long he'd been gone.
He had a slight bullet wound to his leg but it was only a flesh wound and not considered serious. The strange thing was that there was an envelope left on the pillow of his hospital bed. It was addressed to Molly. The police opened it up but refused to elaborate on its contents. We all looked anxiously at Molly as Florida disappeared behind us.
To be continued.....
Last Summer, after we were rescued from that island in the Caribbean Sea, that island that had been our home for nearly 4 years after our boat sank in a storm, Billy and I knew that things were going to be different from then on. You can't go through something like that with out some serious changes in your outlook and your orientation with life, especially your own life. Since returning to civilization we realized that it was time to finally stop just picking at the edges of our dreams and to commit to them completely. I have completely dropped out of public life and I've liquidated all my business holdings. Billy has all but closed up his rod building business. We are ready to move on to our new plans for the future.
One thing we realized is that we were ready to make the move to a life at sea. Shortly after we were rescued, we ordered our new boat. It was to be a 120' floating mansion. We spent weeks on her design and we now had only a few days to wait for her completion. The main salon was over 500 sq.ft. and Billy and I each had our own luxurious suits. There were ample quarters for guests and crew, a full galley with dinning salon. A machine shop, a wood working shop, and a place for Billy to make his rods. We had a movie theater, a 4-lane bowling alley and a hot tub. There were fishing decks fore' and aft'. We had 3 sundecks, one fore', one aft' and one amid-ships, high up on the superstructure.
We had decided to move back to Florida to have a home port right on the Atlantic and there was a new marina that catered to the needs of really big boats like ours. We planned on living aboard and at sea but we needed a home port where we could make repairs, take on supplies and have a little shore leave from time to time.
We really hated to leave Texas but it was time to go. Speaking of crew, we wanted to staff our boat with quality people that we knew and trusted. We chose some of our good friends from our circle of fishing friends to come with us. We were very glad to get Jim (Farmer Jim) Reynolds to sign on as our captain. We were well familiar with his excellent abilities at the helm. Another important member of the crew was going to be the chef. It was our good fortune to have Darrell (Badhabit) Milligan sign up as well. Our good friend James (Sidecutter) McKay signed on as chief mechanic and general maintenance officer.
I was sitting at my desk in my office at our home in Freeport when Molly stuck her head in the door, "Busy?", she asked. "No, not really. Just finishing up some last minute details. What's up?" She told me that there was a guy to see me about a job on the boat. A nice looking young man appeared in the doorway and said "Hi, my name is Wayne Butler." I said, "Well come on in here, Wayne Butler, and let's get to know each other." We talked a bit and he told me he was from North Carolina. He seemed young to me but he showed me his Merchant Marine papers and described a brilliant, if short, career at sea. He had an easy manner and smiled easily. He seemed quite confident but in a kind of quiet, unassuming way. He impressed me so much that I hired him on the spot. We needed a person that could help out where needed and had a wide range of skills and the ability to think fast. He seemed perfect to me.
We were shaking hands and saying good-bye when Billy came in. I introduced them and they hit it off immediately. Billy gave his approval of Wayne for the job and Wayne thanked us both. I told him to check back with me in a couple of days and I hoped to have a date of completion on the boat by then.
The very next day a rep from the company that built our boat called to say that it was complete and nearly ready for delivery. He wanted to know if we had decided on a name for her yet. Billy and I had had many long talks about what to name our new home on the sea. We agreed that it should be something that reflected us in a personal way. After many changes we finally agreed that the name "Spiral Dreams" was perfect. It had a kind of double meaning which did reflect on both of us. Spiral was a direct reference to that hand crafted BillyStiX Spiral Wrapped Rod that Billy made by hand, each one unique, each one different, never two alike. The other reference was to the fact that our dreams were always spiraling in an upward direction, always seeking bigger and better adventures in fishing and in sailing the seas. So then, It was settled. I told the company rep the the name of our new craft was to be Spiral Dreamer. He complimented me on the fine name and said that he'd see to it personally. He said that he would have the boat at our new marina one week from today, and it was a Wednesday. That gave us a week to tie up all lose ends and one more week end to say our good-byes.
The following Tuesday evening Billy, Molly, Jim, Darrell, James, Wayne and I boarded a 747 headed for Miami. Once there we got rooms in a hotel near the airport and the next morning we rented a large SUV and drove a few miles down the coast to our marina and our new boat. When we got there they already had her in the water. What a beauty! 120 feet of gleaming hull, dazzling chrome and brass and stainless steel....a real eye-catcher.
Darrell said he had a little something he needed to take care of and excused himself. It was still well before noon so the rest of us spent the rest of the morning getting our personal things aboard and stowed away in our respective living spaces. The supplies and equipment we had ordered werre beginning to arrive so James, Wayne, and Jim saw to that while Molly, Billy and I went on a grand tour of the boat. The craftsmanship was impeccable. Every detail, every amenity, every item of comfort, convenience, and efficiency was seen to and nothing had been left out.
James, Darrell and Wayne completed the boarding of all the supplies and equipment and caught up with us on the forward sundeck. By then it was getting on to mid afternoon and we wondered what had happened to Darrell. I looked down at the dock and here he came with a big grin on his face. He waved and motioned for us all to come on down and see what he had been up to.
We all went down and joined him on the dock and he announced that he had a special surprise for us. We all piled in the SUV and Darrell drove us over to a little place he had found that he had talked the proprietor into letting him take over the kitchen for the afternoon. Darrell had cooked up a whole sack of crawfish with all the trimmin's; red taters, corn-on-the-cob, and 'shrooms. He didn't hold back on the swamp dust either, judging by the way all of our lips were burning. Billy had flipped for crawfish every since the first time he came to Texas to meet all the good folks at the TTMB and he never missed the chance to have them when he could get them.
With full bellies and happy hearts we all headed back to the boat. We all had things to check on and we had planned to have the coast of Florida in our wake well before sun-up. Tomorrow we would begin our greatest adventure yet.
BANG! BANG BANG! I woke up, startled out of my wits. Darrell finally quit pounding on my door and came bursting into my suite yelling, "Hey you old coot, time to get your sorry tail out of that rack and come to breakfast, come and get it 'fore I th'ow it to the hardheads." I said, "Ummm okay, lemme get my heart rate down just a smigde and I'll be right down." When I entered the dining salon every one else was already at the table. Darrell met me at my seat with a hot cup of coffee and gave me a wink, "Listen here you old geezer, I'm your chef not yer nanny. Don't make me hafta come fer ya again." More winking. I said I'd try to do better and gave him a wink in return. That Darrell.....
After breakfast those with duties to see to carried on with what ever they needed to do while Billy and Molly and I went topside to greet the day. Darrell came up shortly with a pitcher of Bloody Marys and we sat around and discussed our future. At lunch Jim asked if we wanted to do any fishing the next morning. Billy and I just looked at each other and laughed. "That is the plan, my good captain," said Billy, "that is most certainly the PLAN". Jim said that he'd get Wayne to set up the down-riggers, fighting chairs and harnesses and every thing would be ready at dawn. He would see to it that we were in prime waters and we would spend the morning trolling for billfish. For the rest of the afternoon the excitement and anticipation was palpable all over the boat. We were about to fish for the first time aboard the Spiral Dreamer. The moment was now at hand!
I slept fitfully that night. I finally gave up about an hour before dawn and went on down to the galley to get some coffee going. Darrell was already hard at work the coffee was made and ham and eggs a grits and gravy were on the stove. "Well now! I just wish y'all would looky here who made it in good time with out me havin' to go roust him outa the sack. 'Mornin dearie, Sleep well?" There's that wink again. I snapped-to in mock salute and when he turned back to the stove I made a rude gesture at him with my hand. Every one laughed.
Breakfast behind us, it was now time to see what the day held for us fishing wise. We went up to the fishing deck and Jim and Wayne had every thing ready for us. Billy and I had tossed a coin and I won first strike. Wayne dropped the baits and the wait began...it began but it was a short wait. Whamm-o! Fish ON!! I jumped into my fighting chair and Wayne buckled me in. My BillyStiX Spiral Wrapped Rod was now in my hands and I'm getting control of my fish. He startled every one when he make his first jump.
It was a big sail and he seemed to want to spend as much time in the air as he could. He gave me several good jumps, complete with head shaking and tail walking. My heart was about to jump out of my chest. This fish was trying to pull me out of the boat. I was in complete control, thanks to my BillyStiX rod but I was letting him get his air and letting him show me his stuff.
In order to not tire him too badly I finally brought him along side the boat and Billy and Wayne released him to swim away and fly another day. What an exhausting fight that was. Billy and I were doin' the High five thing when the other rod went off.
Billy turned and raced for his fighting chair. Wayne got him in his harness and handed him his BillyStiX rod. Billy and I were both accomplished fishermen but I could tell by the look on his face that the power of his fish had surprised him. He got control of the beast and played him like a cheap fiddle, always in control. We all caught our breath at the fish's first jump. It was another sail and it looked to be bigger than mine had been. Billy started to whoopin' and hollerin' and he was having a great time. His fish was airborn for most of the fight. The spectacle of this great creature and his determination to escape his fate was a thing I'll not soon forget.
Watching Billy's skillful mastery of the contest was nearly as good as catching a fish myself. When the fish came along side Wayne and I set him free to rejoin his brother. We held up our BillyStix rods and touched them as two men about to have a sword fight while Molly took some photos of the two triumphant warriors and their weapons. The pics we took of the fish were awesome but that pic of me and Billy With our crossed BillyStix rods was my favorite.
That evening we were fishing a wreck that Capt'n Jim had put us on and it was a glorious evening. The last vestiges of a purple sky slowly turned to black and the stars came out, one by one, until the night sky looked just like a squillion flickering fire flies. The smell of the sea on the balmy Caribbean breeze was intoxicating. We decided to give the fishing a break and just enjoy the night sky for awhile.
We had planned to stop by the little dot of an island that had been home to me and billy for almost 4 years. We just had to see it again. For good or ill, that tiny island was a part of our lives now and we knew that we'd always be drawn back to it from time to time. I called the skipper and asked him to join us on the fishing deck. When he got there we invited him to sit with us and have cool drink. We asked him how soon he could have us at the island. He said that he'd have to take a look at his charts to be sure but he though that the could have us there by mid-morning tomorrow. Billy asked him to lay in a course for our island and prepare to stay there for the rest of the day. Jim said he'd see to it and excused himself to go set our new course.
We arrived about 10:45 AM and dropped anchor about 1/4 mile offshore. Wayne lowered the motor launch and Billy and I headed for the beach...the same beach that greeted us, what seemed like a lifetime ago. We got out of the launch and walked up to the edge of the jungle. We could see our huts and without speaking, I headed to mine and Billy headed to his.
Everything looked the same. the crude furniture I'd crafted from palm fronds and small tree limbs looked untouched. Except for the layer of dust and sand on every thing, it could have been only moments since I last saw what now filled my eyes. When I came out Billy was standing there waiting for me. Neither of us could speak yet so we turned and walked a little deeper into the jungle.
As if guided by radar, we arrive at the little pool of fresh water that had sustained us. It's black sweetness shimmering in the shade of the giant banana trees that surrounded it. I went to my knees and cupped my hands and slid them into the cool liquid. I raised my hands to my mouth and drank...wow! I had forgotten how great the water had tasted. Billy also drank from the pool and I could swear I saw a tear form in his eye. He quickly turned away, I thought, so I wouldn't see. I said nothing, I just smiled a knowing smile.
We found the little skiff we had been working on when we got rescued. Billy asked the question, to no one in particular, "Wonder how long it'd take us to fnish that little boat? I bet we could get around to the other side of the island with that." I didn't reply because I knew he wasn't really talking to me. Again, I just smiled and said nothing. As we headed back to the Spiral Dreamer we agreed to return soon, and often, to stay a few days and keep our huts in good repair and perhaps finish that boat while we were at it.
We went to the bridge when we got back aboard and consulted Jim about our course for the next few days. He reported to us that according to the weather radar, his charts, the ships instrumentation, and his gut feeling, that we were in great shape for the next several days. we agreed to spend another couple of weeks in the Caribbean and then on to points unknown.
We spent the next several months visiting strange and mysterious lands where the inhabitants were equally strange and mysterious. We had many wonderful adventures exploring the oceans of the world and all the wonderful places we visited. We caught every kind of fish that swims in salt water and we had accumulated an unknowable number of wonderful memories.
One night at dinner Jim brought up the point that there were some aspects of the boat that were beginning to need a little looking after. We all agreed that it would be nice to return back to Florida and spend a week ashore while the Spiral Dreamer underwent a few minor repairs and adjustments. We could visit old friends and lay on fresh supplies of our favorite commodities.
It's a real problem, trying to find some of the simple things like your favorite tooth paste or you favorite brand of breakfast cereal in some of the more remote corners of the globe. We all agreed that it was time to return home and we were all a little surprised to discover that we were so excited about it. Wayne surprised us all by announcing that he didn't think we needed to go back.
He said it would be a waste of time and we could easily wait another 3 or 4 months with out any problem. Jim let him know right quick that the decision was made and we were going to set a new course immediately for the Florida coast. Wayne acted sullen and began to pout but no one snapped. No one paid any attention to him as be began to mutter under his breath. No one noticed when he stood and left the room.
It took us a little over 2 weeks to get back to home port. During this time Wayne did his job but his here-to-fore affable personality and easy smile were no longer in evidence. He was quite and sullen and spoke to no one unless spoken to. If one of us tried to initiate conversation or tried to tease him into one of his generous smiles he'd just mutter some short, clipped answer and walk away.
We were curious but we still didn't realize the serious implications of his strange behavior. When we had docked and were about to get on the gang-way and go ashore, Wayne went clumsily by in almost a run, his heavy sea bag on his shoulder, he didn't look at or speak to any of us. Just scrambled down the gangway to the dock.
It was then that we heard the police sirens. We looked on in surprise and shock at the scene unfolding in front of our eyes. Wayne was running down the dock and 4 police cars were chasing him. At the end of the dock they had him surrounded and when he reached in his jacket pocket one of the cops shot him in the leg. We all went running over to the scene and the cops put up their hands to warn us off. A cop asked us if we knew the guy and I said yes He works for us his name is Wayne Butler. Even before I finished saying that the cop was looking at the ground and shaking his head. He said that we should all prepare ourselves for a shock. He wasn't exaggerating one little bit.
Some time back a plastic surgeon from Texas turned himself in to the FBI in Houston. He told the story of a distraught, deranged young man that came to him for plastic surgery. He wanted to completely change his appearance. The doctor said that he felt sorry for the kid and that he'd try to help him. The surgery went well and while the young man was healing the story came out and his true motives were revealed.
He told the doctor that his girl friend had been kidnapped by an evil tyrant that was the leader of an evil cult who wanted to do harm to his lovey girl friend. Where he made his mistake is that he gave his real name to the doctor. The doctor seemed to remember reading a story in the papers about a young man named Josh Johnson that was wanted for stalking the beautiful lady friend of a couple of celebrities from the fishing world and threatening to kill them all.
He did some checking and learned that this was the young man he'd just operated on. He was wanted by the law and so was his shoe stealin' dog Baxter. He had planned to get a job on the new boat that Molly's friends had and that he planned to kill them and save Molly and that they could live their lives the way they wanted from then on.
The doctor said that he told Josh that he now knew the truth and begged him to turn himself in to the authorities. Josh said he never would and that night he slipped out of the hospital and disappeared. The doctor wrestled with his dilemma for months and finally decided to come forward with the truth.
I looked at the bleeding young man on the ground and could not see even the slightest trace of resemblance to Josh Johnson. And now he was snarling so ferociously that he no longer resembled Wayne Butler any more either. As the ambulance attendants loaded the furious Josh/Wayne thing into the ambulance he swore his revenge. He looked at Molly and his gaze softened and he cried that he was sorry and that he would make it up to her.
The week passed slowly. I had called a friend of mine in Texas who was a fabulous carpenter and very good with machines and a general whiz at trouble shooting and fixing all kinds of things. Rick (Cool Change) Forester said that he'd be delighted to join our little band of sailors and he'd hop the first thing flying to Miami. We met him at the air port and we all had a great reunion. Rick was also a great singer and guitar player and that evening, on the forward sundeck, under a starry, moonlit sky, Rick sang and played some great song for us. We were 2 days away from departing on our next and greatest adventure and it was good to have Rick with us. The next morning he was still playing for us when the sun began to turn the eastern sky into a mixtue of orange sherbert and electric pink bubble gun. We took him below and got him settled in his quarters.
The next morning we gave Rick a tour of the boat and when he saw the small woodworking shop his face lit up and he said that he needed to go into town and check on something. About 3 hours later he shows back up...riding shotgun in a lumber truck. He jumped out and immediately had the driver loading his goods aboard the boat. We saw Teak-wood , mahogany, rose wood, cherry wood and birds-eye maple.
I asked him if he planned on rebuilding the entire boat. He just grinned and said that all this was just for a few little nick-knacks and some light trim work. He also said that he was going to make Billy and me both, our own rod racks for our suites, to hold our favorite BillyStiX rods. Billy had a small rod building shop aboard and we had been keeping all the rods in there. I don't know what Billy was thinking but I was having a vision of my new custom rod rack against the bulkhead, right next to the large porthole that looked out at the sparkling sea. And that fine looking rod rack was loaded with all my favorite BillyStiX Spiral wrapped rods.
The following morning we were getting ready to make sail. Destination, the far horizon. Darrell had whupped us up a good breakfast. We wanted to eat aboard ship so we could get an early start. We all went up on deck together after breakfast to watch Florida disappear in our wake one more time. The raidio was on and tuned into a local station that played island music, the kind with lots of steel drums in it.
An announcer cut in and informed the listening audience that during the night Josh Johnson had escape from the hospital right under the nose of the police guard that was staitioned outside his room. Details were sketchy and all that was known at this point was that Josh had escaped and no one saw him leave or knew how long he'd been gone.
He had a slight bullet wound to his leg but it was only a flesh wound and not considered serious. The strange thing was that there was an envelope left on the pillow of his hospital bed. It was addressed to Molly. The police opened it up but refused to elaborate on its contents. We all looked anxiously at Molly as Florida disappeared behind us.
To be continued.....
