And the Sea Will Tell

by Vincent Bugliosi

  For her second day on the stand, Jennifer wore a high-neck blouse and beige suit with buttons that were large, round, and brown, like her eyes. She had slept little the night before, Sunny informed me in a mother’s worried tone.

  As usual, the courtroom’s gallery was packed.

  At the podium, I said good morning to Jennifer, then commenced day two of my direct examination, continuing to take her through the events on Palmyra in essentially a chronological fashion.

  I asked her if the entries in the diary concerning the Grahams constituted the total number of contacts she and Buck had had with Mac and Muff that summer. No, she said, the diary referred only to “some of the times we saw one another,” nor did it even refer to every time she and Buck together visited the Grahams on the Sea Wind, a total she estimated as “maybe three or four times.” She said it was hard to remember the exact number because it was “a long time ago.”

  I asked if there were times when either she or Buck would visit the Sea Wind without the other one along.

  Yes, Jennifer said, “especially Buck. He used to go over to play chess with Mac more frequently.” And she would occasionally go over by herself with coconut butter and coconut milk she’d made.

  I had Jennifer read aloud a diary entry that involved a social evening Buck and Jennifer had spent aboard the Sea Wind on July 9: “‘On our way to bathe took some coconut butter to Mac and Muff. Never got to bathe but had a very enjoyable evening with them, drinking wine, which tasted fine. And then some rum which was a bit too much for me on an empty stomach. Got pretty drunk—smoked two cigarettes. Mac had given R some Bull Durham earlier in the day. Then gave him a pack of some other cigarettes. He has a friend for life now.’”

  “Jennifer, you’ve heard testimony from prosecution witnesses that they never saw you and Buck on the Sea Wind?”

  “Yes.”

  “From where your boat and the other boats were moored at the dolphins, could one see the Sea Wind?”

  “No.”

  “And why is that?”

  “The Sea Wind—Mac had backed it into this little cove [as I had her indicate on the chart of the island]. And it was totally horseshoed by land. And there was a little jut of land that came out helping to form the cove. So, there was no line-of-sight vision.”

  “Did this portion of Cooper Island jutting out into the lagoon have heavy vegetation and tall trees on it?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  She estimated the distance between the Iola and Sea Wind as two hundred yards.

  Between July 6 and August 26, there were a total of twenty-three entries concerning Jennifer’s and Buck’s contacts with the Grahams. I had Jennifer read each one to the jury.

  “The contact, then, between and among the four of you was of a considerable nature? Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  The Walker jury had never heard this fact.

  With regard to the August 22 entry that the Taylors wouldn’t be arriving until the end of October, Jennifer said she and Buck had decided, upon hearing this news from their friends via Mac’s radio link with Shoemaker, that they would have to make a trip to Fanning to pick up food supplies.

  “You heard Mr. Wolfe’s testimony that you told him that you and Buck were planning to go to Fanning?” I asked, reminding the jury of this corroboration of Jennifer’s present testimony.

  “That’s right.”

  I asked Jennifer how she and Buck had intended to pay for the food they were going to purchase on Fanning. She answered that they had sold their generator to Mac for fifty dollars. Also, she said, they figured they could get temporary work at Fanning to pick up some extra money. “All we really needed was staples. I wanted to get dog food, rice, flour, sugar, beans, things like that.” She also said they planned to trade some of their belongings on Fanning.

  “After going to Fanning, was it your intention then to return to Palmyra?”

  “Yes.”

  I moved on to a new area, a highly critical one for which I’d laid much groundwork earlier.

  “Jennifer, were you aware that Fanning was against the wind—if you were to sail from Palmyra to Fanning?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was that of concern to you?”

  The nonchalance with which she answered was almost as telling as her words themselves. “When you’re sailing into the wind, all you have to do is tack.” She shrugged as if to say even nincompoops know that. “It’s a harder sail, but we’d tacked before.”

  “Where did you have an opportunity to tack before?”

  “We’d tacked intra-island among the Hawaiian Islands. And we’d tacked when we were approaching the channel to come into Palmyra.”

  “Jennifer, looking at the June 21st entry in your diary, is there any reference to tacking on that date?”

  “Yes. ‘Though winds were light last night and are brisk southeast today, we’re having trouble relocating our island. Tacking from east to southwest.’”

  “Did you know one way or the other whether the current would be in your favor or against you en route to Fanning?”

  “I did not know.”

  “Even if you had thought the current as well as the wind were against you from Palmyra to Fanning, would that have affected your decision to go to Fanning?”

  “No, it wouldn’t have. In talking to Mac about it, he said he didn’t think we would have a problem getting to Fanning. He said we might make it in as little as two or three days.”

  Jennifer went on to say she had tacked against both the wind and current before.

  “You did think the trip to Fanning would be difficult. Is that correct?” I asked.

  “I knew it was, yes, going to be difficult.”

  “Jennifer, does your diary reflect your intent to go to Fanning, and your preparations for the trip?”

  “Yes.”

  I had Jennifer read portions of her entries for August 25—“Husked some coconuts for the trip”—August 26—“Mac brought by Fanning chart, which I copied”—and August 28—“Winds willing we shall be ready Saturday.”

  “Jennifer, going back to your August 23rd entry, does it say: ‘Mac gave us fifty dollars for the generator’?”

  “Yes.”

  “However, if you look at your August 26th, 27th, 28th, and 29th entries, there’s a reference to your still having the generator, and it was being used to charge the batteries for the trip to Fanning. Is there any explanation for this?”

  Looking down at her diary, Jennifer brushed an independent lock of hair from her face. “Well, Mac had given us the money on the 23rd. But he knew we needed to use the generator to charge the batteries. And he didn’t have any objection to that. We were just going to give him the generator before we left.” She spoke easily about Mac, as if recalling a friend.

  “Continuing on, Jennifer, with the issue of your ability to get to Fanning with the Iola, you’ve heard testimony at this trial questioning the seaworthiness of the Iola, have you not?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes flared briefly.

  “In your opinion was the Iola seaworthy?”

  “Uh-huh. We—we wouldn’t have left Hawaii on her if she wasn’t seaworthy.”

  “What does the word ‘seaworthy’ mean to you?” I asked.

  “Well, I see ‘seaworthy’ as a relative term. I think that some boats are more seaworthy than others. Some are newer boats, they have better rigging and better sails, and they pick up less water. But ‘unseaworthy’ is an absolute. ‘Unseaworthy’ means the boat will sink. The Iola was definitely seaworthy.”

  “Jennifer, you heard Mr. and Mrs. Leonard testify that you told them you would never leave Palmyra on the Iola. Did you say this?”

  “No. Absolutely not. I—I don’t know where they got that. I always assumed I would leave Palmyra on the Iola. That was our boat.”

  “At any time while you and Buck were on Palmyra, did you ask any of the people there—like the Wheelers, the Leonards, Tom Wolfe or the others—if you and Buck c
ould hitch a ride with them? That is, leave Palmyra with them on their boat?”

  “No, never.”

  “Did that thought ever enter your mind?”

  “No.”

  “Either en route to Palmyra or when the Iola got hung up on the coral heads coming into the lagoon, did the Iola sustain any major damage?”

  “She did not.”

  “Did the Iola leak en route to Palmyra?” I asked. “Did it take on water?”

  “Yeah, just about all wooden boats leak. And she did leak.”

  “You heard Mr. Wheeler testify that even on Palmyra you were bilging the Iola every day while he was there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that true?”

  “When we first came in, it probably is true. We had just completed a long sea voyage. And Buck wanted to get the bilge totally dry to see if we had sustained any damage when we had bonked ourselves on the coral heads. So, for the first several days, we probably were bilging.”

  After that, they pumped out the bilge only a couple times a week, she said, “not because there was so much water, but any water that stood in the bilge threw off a musty odor.”

  I elicited from Jennifer that when they bought the Iola, they were told it had eighty gallons of fiberglassing on it. “Many, many, layers,” she said.

  “What’s the significance of many, many layers?”

  “Well, the more layers you have it means that you could have a crack on the outside—without it necessarily going all the way through. Tom Wolfe testified that he saw a crack. He could have seen a crack on the outside. It may or may not have caused a leak.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Enoki was taking fewer notes than usual. Was this a good omen or dire augury? Had he discerned that I was covering all the bases, leaving him nothing meaningful for cross? Or was he so fully prepped to rake Jennifer over the coals that he didn’t need any more notes?

  Jennifer, by the way, was handling herself extremely well. She’d not yet surprised me with a single unexpected answer—a testimonial to our wrackingly thorough preparation.*

  “While on Palmyra, Jennifer, did Buck move off the Iola and into a tent on shore?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did he do this?” I asked.

  “Well, the Iola didn’t have adequate headroom for Buck. Buck was—over six feet tall. And we had about five feet five inches of headroom, which was perfect for me, but he had to slouch all the time in the boat’s cabin. He wanted a camp on shore, where he would have walking-around room.”

  “Did Buck want you to move off the Iola and move into the tent with him?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Did you go along with that?”

  “No. I decided to stay on the Iola. I was looking forward to having some privacy after those close quarters.”

  “Were you still in love with Buck at that point, though?”

  “Oh, yes. Very much so.”

  We began to grapple with the thorny cake-truce issue.

  “Going to the day of August 28th in your diary, Jennifer, you heard Mr. Shoemaker’s testimony that on the evening of the 28th Mac told him, during a radio communication they had that night, that you and Buck brought a cake to Mac and Muff, and Mac felt that it was to bring about a truce between the Grahams and you and Buck. You heard that testimony?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your August 28th entry makes no mention of bringing a cake to Mac and Muff. Does that mean that you disagree with Mr. Shoemaker’s testimony on this point?”

  “I can’t remember exactly what happened on the 28th, eleven or twelve years ago. That’s a long time. But I can say that Mac had just brought us by the Fanning chart a day or so before. And certainly baking a cake as a thank-you for him doing that is consistent with the type of thing that I would do.”

  I asked Jennifer at what time of day she normally wrote her diary entries. She answered it was usually late in the afternoon, but before dark. “After dark, it was very difficult to write with the lighting we had on the Iola.”

  If the jury believed this visit had taken place, since it was in the evening, this testimony might help explain why there was no diary mention of it. But I wanted additional reinforcement. “Did your daily entries comprise everything that you did on each particular day?” I asked.

  “No, it wasn’t a total recap of everything. I just more or less wanted to mark the day in some way to separate one day from the next.”

  “So, it’s your testimony that this visit could have happened?”

  “Yes. It could have happened.”

  “You just don’t know one way or the other.”

  “Right. I can’t remember.”

  “What about Mr. Shoemaker’s testimony that Mac told him that he felt the purpose of this cake, assuming you brought a cake, was to bring about a truce between you and Buck and the Grahams? How do you feel about that?”

  “Well—there couldn’t be a truce,” she answered. “There wasn’t any quarrel. We didn’t have any feud going on. Mac was helping us all along. There wasn’t a problem.”

  “So that part of his testimony—”

  “That part is absolutely incorrect.”

  “Going now to the crucial date, August 30, 1974, was Buck still living by himself in a tent on shore then?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you were living alone on the Iola?”

  “Yes, with Puffer.”

  Some jurors smiled.

  “Okay. You’ve reviewed that August 30th entry prior to your testimony today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does the entry include everything that took place on August 30th?”

  “No. Like most all of the other entries, it’s…just an overview of the events of that day.”

  “Would you please read to the jury that part of your August 30th entry, that part which you wrote on August 30th.”

  Jennifer cleared her throat and began reading.

  “‘All-out effort day. R was up bright and early, scavenging butts at Mac’s workshop. R wangled a couple of games of chess, a stash of coffee and tobacco to go, plus an invitation to dinner. Not bad for before 9:00 A.M. Next was coffee. Cleaning, swabbing, stowing—removed canopy, baking bread, all around cleanup effort both on boat and ashore. Was going to bake bread in outdoor oven to conserve fuel, but time and energy would not allow it. Undoubtedly, upon return, I’ll have no alternative—only hope the fuel lasts till then.’”

  I asked when exactly that day she had written the entry. She said she thought it was sometime in the afternoon. “While I was baking bread, probably. Before going over to Mac and Muff’s boat for dinner. As I’ve said, I usually wrote the entries during the daylight hours. And I knew we would be getting back late from Mac and Muff’s.”

  “Now, when you say in your August 30th entry, ‘R was up bright and early, scavenging butts at Mac’s workshop,’ do you mean Buck slept on the Iola the previous night, and was up bright and early?”

  I was trying to anticipate and answer every question any juror might conceivably have about the entry for this all-important date.

  “No,” Jennifer answered. “He slept at his tent. And he came by the Iola about 9:00 A.M., and told me that he’d been over to Mac’s.”

  “Was approximately 9:00 A.M. the first time you saw Buck that day?”

  “Yes, that was the first time.”

  “You’ve testified that your diary entries do not contain everything that happened on a particular day, Jennifer. Do you remember everything that took place on August 30th, 1974?”

  It was critical that I elicit testimony from Jennifer about what happened—beyond her diary’s account—on that key day; particularly Buck’s whereabouts, how many times she saw him, and at what times and locations. But how could she look back, so many years afterward, and remember such details? When I first raised the issue with her, she had assumed she remembered as much as she did because Mac and Muff had disappeared that day. But I feared an argument could be ma
de that what took place prior to her learning of their disappearance that day (i.e., prior to 6:30 P.M.), wouldn’t have had much relevance to her. Therefore, unless she had been involved in the murders, I could see the jury thinking, she had no reason to remember these otherwise insignificant pre-6:30 P.M. details. The one exception would be if she immediately suspected Buck had done away with the Grahams. Then she would have had a reason to go over in her mind, that very evening and the days thereafter, everything that had taken place. But she said she hadn’t suspected Buck at the time. How could she now, almost twelve years later, summon up the details of her interaction with Buck prior to 6:30 P.M. on August 30, 1974? In answer to that question, Jennifer eventually came to the conclusion that it must have been all the preparation for the Fanning trip that enabled her to remember most of what took place that day, particularly between Buck and her. I was reasonably comfortable with this answer, which she would give at the trial.

  Sensibly, Jennifer admitted that she didn’t remember everything about that day. “But it is more clear in my mind, I guess, than a number of other days because we were getting ready to go to Fanning the next day. That was a reason for all the activity, all the things to get ready to go.”

  “However, because it was almost twelve years ago, your memory is not perfectly clear. Is that correct?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “You’ve already read your August 30th entry up to a certain point. Could you expand, if you can, on what Buck told you when he came over to the Iola at approximately 9:00 A.M.”

  “Well, he said Mac had said that he and Muff were going to go fishing, and they’d catch all the fish they could. Anything that we didn’t eat that night for dinner, he wanted to give us to take on our trip.”

  “Was this going to be somewhat of a bon voyage dinner for you and Buck?”

  “Yes.”

  I asked if she felt that the dinner invitation was unusual at all.

  Jennifer shook her head. “No. Not at all. Mac and Muff had had bon voyage dinners for others.”

  “Did Mac and Muff frequently fish for their dinner?”