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Just Get on the Tug, Doug!
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. Not really.”
My wife Connie was just returning from her weekend with her lover. It started six months ago. At first, she would use a cover story about going to spent time with her mother, but in the last few months, she just left with no explanation at all. I was a bit too trusting so I wasn’t able to figure out what was going on for quite a while.
Calvin Bostic was a friend of my wife’s before I met her. After going together for several years, he decided to join the Air Force and left Connie behind. I picked her up on the rebound, married her and we had two kids. Life was great for twenty-three years and then it wasn’t.
Our son Robert had a job with the post office in Baltimore and our daughter Dawn married and moved to Allentown. I had anticipated that life would get better as empty nesters, but I was wrong.
I work for my Uncle Simon driving a gravel truck. It is hard work but pays well. We drive two late-model cars and have no credit card bills. We were planning to do some renovations on the house, even though it was underwater.
When things started to get testy at home, I decided to do a little investigating.
Connie’s mother lived in Pottsville, but Connie was staying with Calvin in Frackville. Frackville isn’t that big, so I had no trouble at all finding his house. It was a small rental in the older part of town. I stopped and talked with my mother-in-law and discovered that Connie had not been by in several weeks and when she did stop in, it was just for an hour or so.
“When were you going to tell me about your weekends with Calvin?”
Connie set her overnight bag down and plopped onto the sofa. I couldn’t tell if she was relieved or aggravated. “Calvin retired from the Air Force last March and rented a house in Frackville. He got my phone number from my sister and we have been getting together to reminisce about old times.”
“All weekend?”
“Doug, Calvin and I had been lovers way before we were married. We have a connection. There is a compatibility and intimacy that you are I never had. It just feels natural to be with him.”
“What you are saying is that the two of you are soul mates.”
“Yes. I know it is a cliche, but it is true.”
“And what about us? For twenty-three years, what kind of relationship did we have?”
“I am sorry, Doug. We all have to make choices in life. When you can’t get what you want, you have to select an alternative. When Calvin left, you were my alternative.”
“Twenty-three years and two kids and I was just an alternative?”
“Damn it, Doug! Don’t be so dramatic. I was a good wife and a good mother. Now I want a little me-time.”
Things were quiet for a few moments.
“Does he know you are married?”
“Yes, and he understands. He knows that he was wrong leaving like he did and he regrets it. He realizes that marrying you was something that I had to do and he forgives me for it.”
“What! He forgives you for marrying me. Are you nuts?”
“Doug. Relax. Why are you getting so upset?”
“I am just a bit curious Connie; why didn’t you just move in with him?”
“He is having some legal problems right now. His ex-wife is suing for divorce and is demanding forty-eight percent of his Air Force retirement pay. He figures it is better if we keep our relationship low key.”
“Is he working?”
“He is still transitioning. There is not much call for ground equipment technicians in the area, and he wants to stay here.”
“So Connie. What are your plans?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know! I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
I watched my wife pick up her overnight bag and go to the bedroom. I spent the night in the living room on the recliner.
On Monday morning, after Connie went to work, I finalizing everything. I started with banking and insurance. Closing accounts and canceling policies gave me a good jump on my exit bankroll. I had a thirty thousand dollar pre-approved home improvement loan. My fifty-seven Chevy brought me almost twenty grand. I had another use for my Harley Fat boy. I paid the penalty and cashed in my IRA. There were four CDs in the safety deposit box. Unfortunately, Uncle Simon did not have a retirement plan for me to draw on. I was planning a surprise six-month cruise for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Connie didn’t know that I had been paying into it for six years. That was another thirty thousand dollars into the kitty. I had no trouble finding a buyer for my Snap-On tools. I cashed in my Krugerrands.
The Riverside Public Housing project looked the same as it did twenty-five years ago. Hector Cordetti, however, did not look the same. Hector and I grew up together. His mother was Dominican and his father was Italian. He was bigger, hairier, and uglier than I remembered him. It was a great reunion. We finished off a six-pack and I gave him a photo and all of the information I had on Calvin Bostic. His eyes lit up when I laid the title and keys to the Fat Boy in front of him.
“Doug, it is too much. You don’t have to bribe me for a favor. We know each other too well. I can do what you want for nothing.”
“That’s not the point. I am leaving town and I need to find a home for it. You were the first guy I thought of. Use it, take care of it, and if you still have it when I return, you can give it back to me. In the meantime, if you need money or something, just sell the damn thing. Make it easy on your self.”
“Okay! So I rough this guy up a bit and put him in the hospital. Is that it? What if he doesn’t get the message?”
“I’d say wait a couple of months and if he is still hooking up with Connie, pay him another visit. After two trips to the emergency room, he should get the point. The arrogant son-of-a-bitch does need an attitude adjustment.”
“When do you want it done?”
“Wait for about two weeks.”
“And then what?”
“I will be long gone; no phone, no mail, and no contact. Maybe I’ll send you a Christmas card.” It was good that we finished the beer, or I would have stayed all night.
Connie was not home when I got there. I was planning on traveling light because my future living arrangements would be tight. Connie got her life long wish, so I was going to get mine also; a Nordic Tug 26. All men have dreams or aspirations. Mine was pretty simple, but until now, unattainable. There was no way in hell I was going to be able to convince her to live on a boat. Now, I didn’t have to worry about it. The hardest part was finding one that I could afford to buy and still be able to live on it. The internet is a great place to shop.
My son Robert had just got home from work when I arrived. He seemed surprised to see me, so I assumed that he hadn’t talked to his mother recently. I gave him a quick rundown of the situation being very careful not to bad mouth Connie, but still telling him everything. He was not happy of course but understood. Robert was going to keep a few things safe for me while I was traveling, like my birth certificate and DD214. He also agreed to function as a discrete contact point if I needed anything. I signed the truck title over to him and told him where to pick it up in Annapolis. He was still single but had a steady girlfriend who he claimed had marriage potential. I spent the night there and we both left at the same time in the morning. I thought it was funny that my phone was on the whole time, but I never got a call from my wife.
An hour later I was having breakfast in Annapolis, before heading to the marina.
We spent the morning taking care of business. After lunch, I got a complete checkout on all operational and safety systems. I was glad that I got my Coast Guard BS&S certification earlier. Using the Yanmar service manual and the marina service technician, I was able to put together an assortment of spare parts and additional tools that I might need. I had no intentions of becoming a qualified marine mechanic, I just wanted to know enough to get me to the next service facility if necessary. I got a complete set of ICW charts as well as listings of all the marinas on the east and gulf coasts. One set for my kindle and one set spiral bound. The ladies in the marina office were more than happy to help me outfit my new kitchen and pantry.
One small indulgence that I allowed myself was to get a small solar panel kit and a complete boat LCD lighting package. I felt that I could work on it at my leisure during slow days.
Everything went smoothly. Robert’s girlfriend drove him to the marina that evening. I gave them a tour of the tug and we had supper together. He drove the truck home with him. I was officially unencumbered.
Early the next morning I quietly left the marina with seventy-five gallons of fuel and fifty gallons of water. I had no plan and no destination. I had enough money to last me a year if I didn’t waste it on fuel. Any serious mechanical problems would probably break me. I had no choice other than to go ahead with my fingers crossed.
For the next two weeks, I familiarized myself with my new toy. I figured out how to get the best fuel consumption. I got comfortable with the instrumentation and electronics. Most of the marinas and waterfront restaurants had free WiFi. I downloaded a ton of books to my kindle and also completed several more of the Coast Guard courses, including the ones on safety and weather. I made a note to see about getting an onboard internet system in the future. I wasn’t particularly going anywhere, but I found myself slowly moving South. It was getting close to the time for me to start my trip. I was a bit anxious but also a little cautious. I had no experience, but I had nothing to lose. Go for it!
I quickly found out that eating at the marinas or waterfront food places would put a big dent in my readies. I was going to have to learn some proper onboard cooking techniques and tricks. I downloaded a few more books.
There was one section of the trip that looked as if it might be a problem with my limited fuel supply. I picked up a collapsible fuel bladder just in case I might need it. I stocked up the pantry.
I had my nifty little solar panel system hooked up with a small, tucked away, lawn mower battery. It provided LCD lighting all over the boat and even gave me a nice little charging station for my phone and kindle.
I was leaving Honga River, headed toward Bloodworth island when I spotted a young girl waving her arms frantically. She was standing in the back of a large white yacht that appeared to have run aground into the shrubby shoreline. Only the rear half of the boat was visible in the fading daylight. As I got closer I noticed that it was a large Chris Craft yacht. Other than the awkward position it was in, it seemed to be in pristine shape. There were no running lights on, or signs of life, other than the girl waving her arms. I had forgotten about her for the moment as I got more interested in the boat.
“Hello! Can’t you help me out?” She was not as young as I originally thought. Probably the late twenties and wearing what looked like a cocktail dress.
“Would you like me to radio or call for hell?”
“Heavens no! Whatever you do, don’t call anyone.”
“Can I take you somewhere?” By this time the tug had drifted up to the side of the Chris Craft. I cut the motor and tied on.
“Yes, in a minute, but I have to do something first.”
“Did you run out of fuel?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. It just stopped running and drifted into the trees.”
“Where were you going?”
“Nowhere in particular. Why all the questions?”
“Just curious. What is it you need to do?”
“Do you have any gas?”
“Gasoline won’t do you any good. It runs on diesel.”
“I know that. Do you have any or not?”
I grabbed a two-gallon can of non-leaded from the rear storage and handed it over the rails to her.
She disappeared to the front of the boat and was back a few seconds later pouring the gas as she walked. I had a pretty good idea now what she was going to do, so I discretely loosened the tether line. She handed the empty can back as well as the flare gun kit from the helm. Holding her clutch, she straddled the rails and jumped on to the tug.
“Permission to come aboard, Sir?” I couldn’t help smiling at macabre humor.
As I cast off the line and started the engine, she opened the flare kit. I was backing the tug away, as she loaded and fired directly into the rear of the boat. Amazingly, she got a direct hit the first time.
There was no great explosion. It was sort of a slow-motion fire spreading from the stern to the prow. We were about a hundred feet away when it became completely engulfed in flames. A short while later, there were two muffled detonations followed by a lot of smoke. By that time, night was setting in, and it was hard to see anything.
“Hi! My name is Skye. What’s yours?”
Ten minutes later, after a brief introductory conversation, my new shipmate was fast asleep. While I was chatting away, she was drifting off. That was okay because I had to concentrate a bit trying to get back to the main channel. I had no idea what was going on, but I felt it might be important to put some distance between us and the smoldering hulk that was once a pristine cabin cruiser.
Cruising at night is very relaxing even though you do have to pay a bit more attention to what you are doing. I was a little keyed up at the time because of the circumstances, so the quiet time was relaxing, but not sleep-inducing. I was able to throw a light blanket over my guest without waking her. She was not properly dressed for the situation.
As the sun was coming up I found a nice quiet place to pull off of the channel. As sooner had the coffee started perking, my guest stuck her head in the hatch.
“Good morning, Doug. Sorry for dozing off last night. The coffee smells great. Where the hell are we? Where is the bathroom?” It appeared that she liked to chit-chat.
I tossed her a tee shirt and a pair of sweat pants. Under the circumstances, it was the best that I could do. Five minutes later we were both comfortably settled on deck with a steaming brew. The shirt was a little big on her, but the sweats, that were too long, seemed to fit her hips pretty well.
“Well, Miss Skye. Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on or is it none of my business?”
“It’s Mrs, actually. Mrs. Daniel Cordell. I have only been married six weeks and it looks like it is over already.”
“I take it that that boat you left behind belonged to your husband?”
“Yes. It was a glorious sight wasn’t it?”
“I imagine that you had a pretty good reason for doing what you did.”
“Absolutely.”
The channel traffic was slow, but it was pleasant just sitting quietly watching the ships go by. I refilled both of the mugs and we sat for another few minutes without saying anything. I wanted to know more, but I didn’t want to appear to be too nosy. I decided to let things unravel on their own.
“Doug. Do you mind if I call my father? I don’t want him to worry about me.”
“No problem. I have some maintenance things to do. Take your time.”
Of course, most of the things that I had to do were a bit superficial. I did figure out exactly where we were and updated my fuel and water logs. It was a good twenty minutes later when my uninvited guest popped her head up.
“Doug. If you are not too busy, my father would like to have a word with you. Do you mind?” She handed the cell to me and ducked back down below.
“Hello.” A quite clever opening, I thought.
“Mister Martin, my name is Franklin Graves. I am of course Skye’s father. My daughter has gotten herself into a little jam and I need to ask you a small favor.”
“Go on.”
“Would you be able to keep my little girl on board for a few days until I can straighten out some things? I will, of course, see to it that you are adequately compensated for the inconvenience.”
“I am afraid that I have a very small boat, Mister Graves. I don’t think that she will be very comfortable.”
“I don’t want her to be comfortable, I want her to be safe.”
“Safe? You don’t even know me. How can leaving your daughter with a stranger be considered safe?”
“It is the best alternative that I have. And besides, it is her idea, not mine.”
“Sorry. Not going to happen. I’ll take her as far as Yorktown. Make some arrangements to have her picked up there.”
“I’ll call you back later this evening. Let me speak to Skye again please.”
I spent the next hour trying to figure out why the name Franklin Graves sounded familiar, while my stowaway figured out how to use the compact shower. Of course, she used way too much water. I would have to talk to her about that.
I was wondering what was taking her so long when she yelled up to me. “Doug. Brunch is ready.”
I wasn’t expecting anything so I was pleasantly surprised to see a plate of hot scrambled eggs and spam. I was amazed that she was able to find her way around the galley so easily. It was pretty good.
We didn’t say much while we were eating. After a quick cleanup, we went back to the cockpit and settled down again with some fresh coffee.
“Why did you turn my father down, Doug? Very few people say ‘no’ to my father.”
“Your father doesn’t know me and I don’t know you. I didn’t feel comfortable with what he was proposing. I’d prefer to just drop you off someplace rather than get involved in something that is not my business.”
“My father said the same thing, but I told him that I felt safe with you and would prefer to stay with you if it was possible.”
“Why would you say something like that?”
“I am a good judge of character.”
“Okay. Tell me about your husband.”
“Daniel was my father’s choice. It was a mistake. I told my father it was a mistake and he didn’t listen to me. Now I got myself in a bind and the only way out is to ask my father for help. Doug, I make a lot of mistakes. I hate to have to go to my father again. It is not fair for him. He tried his best to raise me to be responsible and I keep letting him down. I need help, but right now I also have to get out of this stupid situation.”
I pulled in all the lines and went to the helm. Five minutes later we were heading south at a leisurely pace. I got back into the channel and relaxed a bit, while Skye sat quietly in the cockpit. Two hours later I heard her cell chirp again. She handed it to me.
“Okay, Mister Martin. I have no reason not to trust you with my daughter anymore. It took a couple of hours, but you checked out pretty well. Sorry about your marital problems, but it appears that you are handling it well. Can you be in Yorktown by tomorrow?”
It took a while to absorb what he was saying. I am not stupid or slow, but I am a bit cautious.
“Mister Martin? Are you there, Mister Martin?”
“Yeah! I am still here. I just need a moment to think this all through.”
“Take your time. Do you think you can be in Yorktown tomorrow?” If so, tie up at the Wormley Creek Marina. I will have someone meet you there.”
“If someone is going to meet us there, why can’t she just leave with them? I don’t quite understand.”
“Mister Martin, I assume you are on a planned trip down the coast. I don’t want to disrupt your trip, but I would like you to take Skye with you for a week or so. Think of it as an interesting diversion.”
“Mister Graves, I am not equipped for a guest and your daughter does not have the clothing or personal belongings for such a trip.”
“That will all be taken care of tomorrow. Don’t worry about it. Can I talk to my daughter please?”
It was almost noon when we tied up at the Wormley Creek Marina. Our arrival was anticipated by a middle-aged man in a suit and a twentyish looking female who appeared to be wearing some type of athletic clothing. Skye waved at the couple as we debarked. It was obvious that she knew the lady well. We joined them at an outside table overlooking the docks.
“Mister Graves, my name is Marshall and this Miss Templeton. We will try and make our meeting as brief as possible.”
“Why. I have all the time in the world. You don’t have to rush on my account. Can I get a cold beer?” I noticed that Skye sort of snickered when I said that.
He opened the briefcase on the chair beside him and drew out several manila folders. I groaned a little when I saw them and he noticed.
“Sorry, Mister Graves. Just some minor formalities.”
“I am afraid that I have to interrupt briefly.” Miss Templeton announced. “Skye and I have some things to take care of. We will be back in about an hour. Have fun, have lunch. We’ll see you shortly. Take your time.” Marshall seemed a bit flustered by her frivolousness, but I found it refreshing.
Marshall covered a hell of a lot of crap in the next thirty minutes. New cell phones, special credit cards, and a nice little wad of cash. I balked a little when he presented the medical power of attorney forms. Since she was only going to be with me for a week or so I didn’t see the necessity of it. He emphasized that it was just a precaution and nothing to worry about. This was getting pretty deep and I was starting to worry. With an exasperated sigh, I insisted on another beer and some lunch. He agreed. I found it very odd that I did not get any backstory or information about the situation other than what I already knew.
Eisley
- 06.09.2020
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