He nods. “You may go below. I will do no harm. I promise…”
I nod and go below. Kate is waiting. I give her a three-minute synopsis of my time with Hamza. “I honestly think he comparing what we have, what he had, to what he has now. And I think his now is losing... Let’s lay down for a while.”
We watch more Tenth Kingdom – and crash…
CHAPTER 27
It’s still full dark when I wake up. Footsteps topsides. I get up. Kate is still asleep. I slide out of bed and close the owner’s cabin door as I leave.
I go to the galley sink and splash some water in my face. I dry myself with a dish towel and go to the bottom of the companionway. I hear muffled voices. My watch says 6:00.
I go up the companionway stairs and am confronted by Hamza – and a crowd of others. He holds a hand up to the crowd. “This is our Captain. You will follow his orders during the crossing.”
I look over my passengers. The men all have on shorts and golf shirts of different colors. They are obviously middle eastern, but they look like Put-in-Bay tourists. The women have on loose fitting slacks and long-sleeved blouses. And they are both wearing hijabs. They all carry backpacks.
And my passengers look me over.
We say nothing. Hamza breaks the silence. “Captain, please take the men below to the forward cabin. They all speak English, and will follow your orders. They are to stay in the forward cabin until we arrive at Put-in-Bay. I will direct them to disembark at the appropriate time. I will direct the women to the aft cabin.”
“This way, gentlemen.” I go down the companionway stairs, through the galley and stand at the door to the forward cabin. They enter. Each nods as he passes me. They say nothing. I close the door.
I slide the owner’s cabin door open a little and check on Kate. Still sleeping. Good.
When I get back topsides, Hamza has installed the women in the aft cabin and repositioned the chair hiding the hatch. He is sitting at the salon dining table. I join him.
“Are the women settled?”
“Yes. And the men?”
“Yes. I’m going to make coffee. Do you want some?”
“Yes, please. It has been a long night.”
“What do you take in your coffee?”
“Black is fine.”
* * *
The first cup goes to Kate. I set it on the table by our berth. “Honey. Wake up. It’s morning.”
She rolls over. Smiles. Then goes serious. “Are they here?”
“Yes. Men forward. Women aft. I’m going to make a cup of coffee for me. I’ll be topsides.”
I make two more cups of coffee and take them up to the salon.
“So -- what is the plan?”
“The weather looks dirty. I suggest we wait a while, but you are the Captain.”
“Coffee first. Then I’ll check the weather.”
* * *
We sip our coffee. I have to ask. “Hamza, why are you doing this?”
“What do you mean, Captain?”
“I guess I really have two questions. You guys don’t seem like ‘terrorists.’ Why are you, as a group, doing this? And why are you, as an individual who was raised in the United States, doing this?”
“That is complex. We will probably never meet again. I believe that I can be candid with you.”
“You can. You have made me a part of this ‘conspiracy.’ I just want to know why? What are your goals?”
“First, the group. We are not ‘terrorists.’ We have been selected by our leaders at home to become leaders of the Muslims in the United States. Identities have been prepared for us. We will move to places with large Muslim populations. We will assimilate. We will guide the less ‘political’ members of our Muslim societies toward an eventual Muslim Califate in America.”
‘That sounds rather grandiose, to be honest with you.”
“And to be honest with you, I agree.”
“Oh?”
“This brings us to, ‘Why me?’ I have lived in the United States. I was born in Afghanistan. I have lived there. I have lived in Syria.”
“And?”
“And our leaders chose poorly, when they chose me.”
I think I know where this is heading. “Oh?”
“I care little for their dreamed of Muslim Califate. I want to live in America again. I want to be an American again. I want to marry an American woman. I want to raise my children as Americans.”
“Wow.”
Hamza looks at the ground. It’s almost like he’s ashamed of what he said. “Hamza, I, too, have lived in the Middle East. And I have lived in Europe. I have travelled over much of the world. America is not perfect. It has its flaws. But it is the best place I have found. So, I understand.”
We both go silent.
* * *
I check the offshore forecast at www.nws.noaa.gov, and check weather.com. Winds are out of the east at fifteen knots. And it looks like it will be this way until tomorrow. I can stay in the lee of Pelee Point and of the islands, but when we’re out in the open, there will be four-foot waves – and we’ll be taking them broadside. It will be unpleasant.
I consider our options. I make some decisions.
Just as I’m about to tell Hamza my plan, Kate comes up. She is dressed in fresh clothes and has her second cup of coffee. I still look slept in, but that’ll wait. Kate picks up my nearly empty coffee cup. “More?”
“Oh, yes – please. Hamza?”
“Yes, if I may.” He holds his cup out to Kate. She hesitates. Then takes it. Somewhat grudgingly.
She heads below. “I’m ready to discuss my plan, but Kate needs to know. I’ll wait ‘til she comes back up.”
We wait. It’s full daylight now. I can feel the stiff breeze out of the east, even here.
CHAPTER 28
Kate sets our two mugs on the salon sole and goes back for hers. Hamza gets them and hands me mine. He is trying very hard to be civil. I’m not completely ready for “civil.”
Kate comes back up the companionway stairs with her coffee. “Kate, I was just getting ready to tell Hamza what I think we should do.”
Kate settles into her Mate’s helm seat. Her look says, “This seat is mine.”
I stand beside the Captain’s helm seat, and Hamza sits on the port settee -- Daisy’s spot. I’m thankful that we left her at home. It took her a week to recover from our last trip. I swear that she kept watching for terrorists to show up. She’s safely at home now, and Eileen, our dog sitter, will take very good care of her. I wish I was safely at home.
Kate speaks first. “Okay?”
“There is an eighteen-knot breeze out of the east and it looks like it’s going to be with us all day. The lake will be pretty flat behind Pelee Point and the islands, but it’s going to be nasty out in the open. We’ll be beam to the wind and we’ll experience lots of roll. It’s perfect weather to make those prone to seasickness suffer.”
“Okay?”
“It’s just at thirty miles to Put-in-Bay. I suggest that we wait until early afternoon, and tough it out. Hamza, do you know if any of our passengers are going to have problems?”
“I do not get seasick, but some of them have never been on a boat before. I will give them all Dramamine this morning.”
“Excellent idea. As soon as we clear the harbor, they can come out of their cabins and into the salon. There won’t be many boats about. And our passengers are less likely to get seasick here.”
“Very good, Captain.”
“I’ll need to go ashore and tell the Dockmaster our plans, but there is no hurry.”
“Cap’n, can we walk up to Gaspard’s Café for breakfast? I really need to get ashore for a little while.”
“Hamza?”
“Of course. We know that you will not do anything foolish. I must stay here, but you may go.”
“Thanks.” I say it with some sarcasm. “I want to clean up and change; then we can go, Kate.”
“Sounds good, Cap’n.”
&nb
sp; * * *
In fifteen minutes, we’re heading for Gaspard’s. The 500-yard walk will do us both good. But we walk in silence. We thought we were done with this. Now we know we’ll never be done – unless we end it.
“Kate, we will end this. We’ll be in Put-in-Bay tonight. Vermilion tomorrow. Mike will be there soon. We’ll get the help we need. We will end this. I promise.”
We hold hands. And walk in silence.
* * *
Nice breakfast at Gaspard’s. We come here often enough that the waitress knows us to see us. She welcomes us back. We both order omelets. Kate’s with lots of veggies; mine with lots of meats. And orange juice, and good strong Canadian coffee.
But knowing what we’re going back to robs us of our enjoyment. Even Sueanne, our waitress, picks up on it. “You guys look like somebody ate your picnic lunch. Weather got you down?”
Sounds like a good excuse. “Yeah. There’s enough wind that it’s going to be a bumpy ride home.”
“I see you guys here a lot. Where is home, may I ask?”
Kate joins in. “Vermilion, Ohio, but we’re only going as far as Put-in-Bay today.”
“That should be an easy trip. I wish you well. Stay safe.”
We pay our check, say goodbye, and head back to Morning Star.
* * *
We make a quick stop at the Marina Office to tell them our plans. Then board our boat. Hamza is below in the galley. He has a plastic Garbage bag of what looks like breakfast trash. “Can you dispose of this, please? I would do it myself, but…”
“Yeah sure.” I gather up a few bits of other trash. “Kate, you want to come along?”
“No. I’ll sit aft and try to relax a little.”
* * *
When I get back, Kate is sitting on the aft settee. She looks anything but relaxed. “Kate, I look like you feel. I mean I feel like you look. I think we should just go.”
“I agree, Cap’n.”
“I’ll go tell Hamza.”
I go below and tell Hamza what I think. He looks relieved. “I will tell the men forward. Will you tell the women?”
“Yes. I’ll tell them that we’ll allow them out of their cabin as soon as it is safe to do so.”
I go back up to the salon, and out to the cockpit. “We’re out of here.”
“I’m glad. I’ll pull the shore power. The wind is keeping us off the dock. I’ll pull the fenders.”
“And the spring line. I’ll warm up the engines.”
I stop at the aft cabin hatch. I knock and open it enough to communicate. “We are leaving. Hamza will come tell you when it is safe for you to come topsides,”
I go to the helm, and go over my departure checklist. Doing everything that needs done, and doing it in the right order is too important to leave to memory. I have a laminated five by seven card with a checklist.
In less than ten minutes, the engines are warm and we’re ready to depart. I switch the VHF to channel 68. “Leamington Marina, this is Morning Star.” Nobody says “over” anymore.
“Morning Star, this is Leamington Marina. Go ahead.” I recognize Natalie’s voice.
“Morning Star is leaving the D dock bound for Put-in-Bay.”
“It’s lumpy out there, Captain. Safe travels.”
“Thanks, Natalie. See you next trip. This is Morning Star back to channel 16.”
And we’re off.
CHAPTER 29
It’s only about twenty-five miles as the crow flies to Put-in-Bay. But I’m going to hide behind land as much as possible to minimize the wear and tear on the boat, crew, and passengers. I’ll add ten miles to the trip, but it’ll be worth it.
The first nine miles are in the lee of Pelee Point. As soon as we’re out of the harbor, I look around. Zero other boats. “Hamza, tell your charges that they can come topsides now. It’s flat now, but the next ten miles are going to get rough. They’ll fare better up here.”
Hamza releases the women from the aft cabin first. They look very relieved to be in the salon. One turns to me. “Captain, may I be permitted to go to the back?”
“It’s called the stern, and yes, you may.”
“Thank you.” She goes back to the aft cockpit, leans on the rail, and watches the world go by.
Soon, we are joined by three men. One looks like a genuine tourist, one looks rather disinterested, and one looks genuinely surly. Why is there is always one?
Mister tourist joins the woman aft, mister disinterested sits next to the woman in the salon, and mister surly stands near the companionway looking forward. So far, none show signs of seasickness. Of course, they’re all on Dramamine, and we’re still in calm water.
* * *
“Hamza, it’s about to get rough. Go warn the two aft to hang on. Or better yet, tell them to come into the salon.”
He’s back in two minutes. “With your permission, they would like to stay where they are for now.”
I nod, and turn us west-southwest. When we clear the point, the lake goes from flat to four-foot waves. The change in expressions is remarkable – and exactly as expected. Kate smiles – she loves this. Mister surly looks close to panic – and a little green around the gills. The two passengers aft hang on, but stay put – I think I see a slight smile on the woman’s face.
Hamza is sitting on the forward settee opposite Kate and me. He looks unperturbed. But he is watching me as I steer. His old navy experience, I guess,
After twelve miles of running with the waves, we duck into the lee of Pelee Island. The lake calms down. The worst of our trip is over. We still have fifteen miles to go, but it’ll be mostly in the lee of the Bass Islands, so it’ll be easier than the open lake.
* * *
In less than an hour, we’re past Middle Bass Island and Put-in-Bay bay is in sight. So are several other boats. “Hamza, time for your people to go below.”
He starts herding his people below. I come down off of plane as we approach the bay. When all of our passengers are out of sight, I call U.S. Customs on VHF channel 16. They tell me to switch to channel 22. I do. I identify our boat and tell the Customs Officer that we carry I-68 cards. He asks my card number, and after a short pause, he comes back on the radio. “Captain, you are cleared to enter the United States. An inspection will not be necessary. Where are you docking tonight?”
“Miller’s Marina in Put-in Bay. Then on to our home port at Vermilion Yacht Club tomorrow,”
“Thank you, Captain. This is U.S. CBP Sandusky back to channel 16.”
That’s done. “Kate, can you get on the radio to Miller’s and get us a dock assignment?”
“Roger that, Cap’n.”
CHAPTER 30
Kate calls Miller’s on VHF channel 16, and they tell her to switch and answer on channel 74. After she identifies us, the Dockmaster asks if we’re familiar with the harbor. Kate says that we’re from VYC and that we’re very familiar with P-i-B. He directs us to go back past the ferry maintenance dock to the next wharf. He says a dock boy will meet us there and help us in. She thanks him. “I’m going forward to get out lines and fenders.”
“Good enough, Cutie. Be careful.”
I don’t know who is setting our itineraries, but Miller’s was a good choice – if you’re a fake tourist… It’s away from the craziness of the public docks. It’s a little secluded, but close to the public ferries. It’s a perfect place for sneaking into the U.S.
We round the maintenance dock, and a young man with a fluorescent green vest waves from the wharf. Kate waves back. He points to the spot he wants me at. I stop, spin 180 degrees, and slide up to the wharf. My maneuver earns me a thumbs up from the dock boy. Kate throws him the lines, and in a few minutes, we’re tied up. I hear him ask Kate for the shore power cord. She hands him the end, and he plugs us in. We’re secure.
Kate comes back to the helm. “You know the question.”
“I don’t know the answer to ‘Now what?’ But I’ll go find out.”
I get up. Kate sits down. I go be
low. Hamza is in the galley. “Now what?”
“I’m told that you will have to go ashore to sign in with the Dockmaster.”
“I will. Our normal practice would be to sign in, and then walk into town. Probably stop for lunch somewhere.”
“Do as you would normally do. I have some questions first.”
“Yes?”
“Do you have a map of Put-in-Bay?”
“What do you want to see?”
“I have been told that we will have to take a bus from here to the ferry dock at the south end of the island. We are to take the ferry to Kellys Island and then on to Marblehead. I was shown a map to the bus station, but I would like to see it again.”
“Let me get out my Richardson’s Chart Book.”
I open it to a large-scale chart of the Put-in-Bay harbor. “We are here. You’ll have to walk to the bus station here.”
I flip to a chart of Middle Bass Island. “The bus will take you here. It’s been a long time, but I think there is a charge for the bus. And you’ll need ferry tickets.”
“We have American dollars, and ferry tickets will be provided. I’d like to show these charts to our passengers.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” I’m starting to feel like I’m helping them. I don’t want to. I won’t. They are enemy invaders…
* * *
I go back up topsides. “Kate, let’s go check in with the Dockmaster. And then walk into town.”
“Can we?”
“Yeah. I told Hamza that that’s our normal procedure. And he said then do it.”
We walk up to the marina office – not nearly as nice as in Leamington.
A young lady with no name tag is at the counter – not nearly as nice as Leamington.
Because it’s the busy season, I had to book the dock for two nights. I’m sure they won’t mind if I leave after one night. And I’m sure they won’t offer me a refund. I pay the bill, and we head for town.
“Let’s go to The Roundhouse.”
“The Roundhouse? Why?”
“I know. It’s not our kind of place. But it’s also not a Muslim kind of place. If we’re being followed, it’ll be pretty obvious. I want to try to call Mike and tell him what we know about their departure. And we can get some lunch,”
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