SS Pacifica

by Coleinger, Ronnie

  I got up around midnight and checked the fish finder and depth gauge. I could tell that the storm was still in full swing by the currents that moved the fish under the Pacifica back and forth, as they sheltered below. I wondered to myself why fish always swam under a boat, and decided they liked having cover over their tiny heads, just as we humans needed a roof over our heads. I heard Becky stir and turned down the light level on the lantern a little. I wanted her to sleep soundly, even if I could not. I could sleep when the weather calmed and we were sailing safely topside. I checked the water depth one last time and the gauge showed we had around 800 feet of water below us. I carried the lantern with me to my bed and crawled under the covers. As I lay awake, I could hear Becky breathing slowly as she slept in her bed just a few inches away. I checked my watch again and realized I had wasted another two hours of the night. It was now four thirty in the morning.

  My eyes popped open and I quickly turned on the lantern to see what was happening. Becky spoke to me and said, “Relax, I just kicked the chamber pot with my foot. Go back to sleep.” I was again wide-awake and looked at my watch. It was now seven thirty in the morning, and it would be daylight on the surface. I got back up and checked the water depth, and saw that it was still running around eight hundred feet deep. My compass said we had drifted slightly off course, but I had no way to know how much we might have drifted east or west during the night.

  Becky sat down on the edge of her bed and asked, “Shall we try surfacing and see what the weather is like. Maybe we can get a GPS signal.” I agreed and I began to blow water from the ballast tanks. I put in just enough air to get us rising towards the surface, but I wanted to surface very slowly. As I watched the depth gauge, I added a little more air to the ballast tanks and saw the gauge reach twenty feet, ten feet, and then we were on the surface.

  Becky was looking out the new viewing window and said, “The waves have calmed, but it is raining heavily. We should be able to get a GPS signal established now.” I turned on the GPS and allowed it to acquire satellites. When it was ready, I wrote down our coordinates and then turned the power switch off. Becky plotted our position on the large map and said, “We have moved a long way south during the night. It looks like, yes, we traveled over forty miles last night in the heavy currents. We are now just west of Lisianski Island. We are in a very good position.” I took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed. Becky walked over to the bed, sat down beside me, and said, “Did you get any sleep last night?” I smiled and said, “It appears that I slept for a couple of hours. I was worried all night that we might run into shallow water.” Becky patted me on the knee and said, “I suggest that we submerge to around thirty feet and try letting the current push us south for a few more hours. We can raise the antenna occasionally and check our position with the GPS to see if we are making headway.” I said, “I am going to sleep for another hour or so.” Becky said, “I slept well last night. You can sleep as long as you wish. I will wake you when we run out of the rain and high seas.”

  I woke with a start and realized that Becky had taken us to the surface. I heard her talking on the radio. Then I realized that she was giving the license number for the SS Pacifica to someone. The conversation continued for another minute and then I heard her say, “I will surface, but I will not come out on deck until I can see your vessel and some identification.” I quickly got out of bed and dressed. I went to the cupboard and removed one of the carbine rifles, loaded it, and put a second ammunition clip in my pocket. Then I went to the viewing window and looked out. I saw a diver climb up onto the deck of the Pacifica and look into the window. It was then that I saw the United States Flag on his sleeve. Becky said, “I am going to steer the Pacifica in a circle so we can see who is trying to board us.” As she turned the vessel in a circle, I spotted a United States Navy vessel. I spoke to Becky and she said, “If you will stop the motors, I will open the hatch so we can get a good look around.”

  I handed the rifle to Becky, then opened the hatch, stuck my head out and looked around. There was a diver standing on the bow and he spoke to me and identified himself. I realized that pirates certainly could not impersonate a United States Naval Vessel, so I spoke to him. I told him my name and asked what the problem was. He told me that they had tracked an unidentified submarine and needed to investigate its identity. I told him they now knew who we were and to get off the Pacifica. I stepped up onto the deck and he took a step towards me. Becky passed up the carbine to me. I held the rifle by the barrel and kept the butt of the weapon resting on the deck, trying not to threaten him, yet letting him know I was not going to allow him to come any closer to me. The diver held his hands out in front of his chest and began talking again. He said, “We need to see the crews’ identification, and the papers for this vessel.” I told him that he could have done that over the radio conversation his radio operator just had with the captain of the Pacifica. He asked how many people were aboard the vessel. I told him six hundred and twelve. He smiled and said, “This does not have to be difficult, we just need to know who is sneaking around in United States coastal waters.” I said, “There are presently three people on this vessel, but if you don’t leave the deck of this vessel immediately, there will be one less that can still talk.”

  I heard a voice coming from the Navy vessel and I turned my head to look. The man wore a Navy uniform and said, “This is Captain James Warren. Please put the weapon down and talk to the diver on your vessel. He needs to see the identification for your crew before he leaves your vessel.” I heard Becky speak to me and she handed up our papers and drivers licenses. I put the carry strap of the rifle over my shoulder. I then saw that she had a pistol in each hand as she stood at the bottom of the ladder. I spoke to the diver and said, “You stand right where you are. I will bring you our papers and identification.” He said he would remain where he was, so I walked towards him. He greeted me by name as I approached, and then said, “I am sorry for all this fuss, but we have no record of any submarines registered under the name of SS Pacifica. In the last year, we have discovered that the drug smugglers have resorted to moving their drugs with submersibles of all descriptions. The Navy has zero tolerance for drug smugglers, so we investigate every submarine or unidentified vessel we come across.”

  He looked at our drivers licenses and then at the registration for the vessel. He keyed his microphone on his shoulder and sent them the registration number and the Admiral’s name that had inspected and signed the document. Then he read the drivers license numbers and I heard someone read the numbers back to him. Within a couple of minute’s time, I heard the radio message that the registration for the Pacifica originated out of California and that Becky and I were the registered owners. The diver passed the paperwork back to me and said, “I will now leave you. I am sorry to have troubled you, but we had to check.” I saw the man look over my shoulder and I realized that Becky was standing on the deck beside the hatch. She had the pistol stuck into the front of her shorts. The man addressed her as Captain Becky. I saw a smile appear on her face and then she said, “Does the Navy now have our registration listed on their computers, or do we have to be inspected every time we come across each other?” The man smiled and said, “You will have no further visits from the Navy unless you have violated a law.” The diver then said, “I understand your concern for allowing people to board your vessel, and I encourage you to remain vigilant. If a vessel overtakes you and does not show proper identification, consider them pirates. I am glad to see you have weathered the storm all right. I should also tell you that your vessel came under our radar when you entered the restricted area of the Midway Atoll. Since you immediately left the area and remained outside the restricted area, we will not issue a citation.” Becky said, “There needs to be better warnings that the atoll is restricted. We just happened to stumble on the warning by accident while reviewing our navigational charts or we would never have realized there was any problem.” He gave a quick salute, and stepped off the e
nd of our vessel and into the water.

  We stood on the deck and watched the Navy vessel pick up their diver and then leave the area. When they were out of sight, I watched Becky return to the cabin. She returned a few minutes later, dumped her chamber pot and washed it out. She was very calm right now, but I knew the boarding had disturbed her. She sat the pot beside the hatch and then walked up to where I stood. She wrapped her arms around me and said, “Thank you for confronting the diver. I would have stumbled over my words and probably my own feet if I had been up here. You handled the boarding exactly as a crewmember should and I am very proud of you. The diver understood that he could talk to you, but do nothing else. If he had harmed you, or tried to enter the cabin, I would have shot him. I just sent Captain James Warren a nasty radio message about boarding vessels at sea without properly announcing themselves. I explained that there was no reason for the diver to step foot onto the deck. I told the Captain I had the legal right to shoot the diver for trespassing. The Captain’s response was very nasty and I recorded the message. I will send a copy of it to the Admiral that registered the Pacifica when I have cell phone service.”

  With the weather clearing, and the waves now much calmer, we set the foresail and checked our position on the GPS. We could not land on most of the islands along the Hawaiian Ridge, as most were inaccessible, or were sanctuaries that had restricted entry. We wanted to sail as close to each island as possible and take pictures whenever possible. As we checked our position, we found that we were just off the western coast of the Lisianski Island. Becky and I decided to see if we could get a satellite or cell phone signal so we could check to see if we could legally and safely visit the island. When Becky turned on her cell phone, she had signal and the phone downloaded an email message from her Uncle Pika. She sat down in one of the deck chairs and read the message, twice, and then she read it again. She looked up at me and said, “Would you consider flying back to San Francisco in a 757 in the first class section?”

  I must have been standing with my mouth hanging open over the words she spoke, but finally regained my ability to speak and said, “Girl, what in the hell are you talking about?” She looked up at me and said, “A wealthy friend of my uncles has made an offer to buy the Pacifica from me for a very good price. I may have to sell our temporary home out from under us.” She smiled and said, “2.4 million U.S. Dollars.”

  Becky went down into the cabin and returned with a notepad and pencil. She sat writing notes, and then called her accountant in California. As they talked, Becky took more notes. When she laid the cell phone down on the deck beside her chair, she wrote some more notes, worked some figures on her scientific calculator and then laid the notepad and pencil down beside her. She pointed to the second deck chair and said, “Stanley, we need to talk.” I sat down and listened to her for about twenty minutes. Finally, she ran out of steam and said, “Husband, you do have a say as to whether I sell this vessel or not. Please give me your thoughts.”

  I looked carefully into her eyes and said, “I must remind you that it was not my money that was spent to purchase the materials and labor to create this vessel. I have no idea if you will make a profit on the sale or not. If there is a good return on your investment, then I think you might want to consider selling the SS Pacifica and we could begin building the SS Pacifica-Two next week.”

  She thought about my words for a few minutes and then said, “I think I will sell this vessel if the buyer agrees to include the California sales tax into the price and sign a form saying she will not infringe on my patent, nor copy the Pacifica in any way.” I smiled and said, “You have my blessing, Becky.” She kneeled down in front of my chair and looked me in the eyes. Then she asked, “Are you certain that I will not lose your love if we no longer have the Pacifica as a common denominator between us? I also want to make certain that building another vessel will not tax our marriage beyond its ability to survive. I would rather have your love than another vessel.” I kissed her hard on the lips and said, “I would prefer to have your love and another vessel, but will settle for just you if I am forced into a decision. Becky, selling this vessel may actually bring us closer together. We will have to work as a well oiled team to create another vessel.” Becky said, “I will think about this for a few hours and then call Uncle Pika with my answer.”

  I set a southerly course and allowed the Pacifica to tick off the miles. I was certain that Becky would sell the vessel that I had come to love, but I realized that the thrill of building the vessel was the most important part for my wife. This voyage was nothing but a one-year diversion between builds. She certainly would want to begin building again soon after we arrived back home. I knew when I joined with Becky that she would sell the Pacifica at some point in time and this money offer certainly must be a good one or she would have made a counter offer to the buyer. I also realized that if she did not sell the Pacifica now, she might never again get a fair offer.

  Becky was very quiet during supper that evening and I left her alone to sort out her life in her own way. After we had cleaned up the supper dishes, she walked up to me and said, “I have decided to sell the Pacifica. You need to tell me now if you want to change my mind, or discuss it further.” I hugged her hard and said, “I have thought about this all afternoon and I think you might be missing an opportunity that will never come along again if you don’t sell now.”

  When she backed away from me, she was crying. I took hold of her hand and said, “Can you tell me about the tears in your eyes. Can you explain why you feel sad?” She smiled and said, “I think it is a woman thing to cry when my emotions get tweaked. I am perfectly okay with all this, and I promise not to walk off the side of the deck during the night!” I pulled her into my arms and said, “Becky, I did not mean to imply that you were crying for no reason, nor that you were suicidal because you cried. I simply do not always understand a woman’s tears. Sometimes, I need to ask the reason for them.” I felt Becky begin to cry harder and I just held her until she could calm her emotions. She finally stepped back and said, “I spent half of my life dreaming about this vessel and building her. I feel like it is a part of me. I also feel that the Pacifica is saddened by my decision to sell her to a stranger.” I began to understand why she was upset, but decided to say nothing more on the subject. Telling Becky that the Pacifica was just an inanimate object would only make her angry with me; she felt the vessel had a soul and I was not going to change her mind. Besides, for all I knew, this vessel might actually have a soul.

  I brought one of the generators up onto the deck and filled the gas tank with fuel. I ran the power cord and connected the generator power cord to the batteries. As I checked the oil level, I heard Becky talking on her cell phone again. She was talking to her Uncle Pika and she explained that the price was agreeable, but that the buyer would need to add on the 9.5% California sales tax to the price and sign a form showing her understanding that she was not buying any patent rights, nor could she copy any of the Pacifica for five years. When Becky said goodbye to her uncle, I started the generator and checked to be certain the charge indicator showed that the current was getting to the batteries.

  While the generator ran, we sailed the Pacifica towards the east and found a twenty-fathom deep sandy area that was part of the Neva Shoals just southeast of the Lisianski Island. Much of the area consisted of coral reefs, but there are places where there was nothing but sand. We anchored and thought about swimming, but we had seen shark fins an hour earlier and decided swimming in this area was simply stupid. Instead, we brought up two kids swimming pools and filled them with warm water from the ocean. As we stripped down and sat in our tiny pools to wash, I heard Becky giggle and say, “I remember doing this when I was a little girl in the back yard of my parent’s home.” I got up and went over to her pool, kissed her on the lips, reached down between her legs and made her giggle. I said, “I bet you didn’t do this in your parent’s back yard.” As we giggled and made love on the deck, Becky said, “I think w
e just forgot something.” I felt the blood leave my face and I began to feel like an idiot. I had just made a stupid mistake. If Becky became pregnant, I would feel like a real heal over my carelessness. We finished washing and then rinsed each other off with buckets of water. As we dried ourselves, I spoke to Becky about getting pregnant. She giggled and said, “I think we will be okay. It has been long enough that your body has surely cleansed itself by now. Besides, a woman does not get pregnant every time she has sex. We can only hope for the best.”

  That night, we brought our mattress pads and sheets up on the deck and slept under the stars. It was the first time in a long time that we felt perfectly comfortable out in the open sea. Becky commented that she and her father had slept out in the open sailboat many times and they never had any problem.

  When the sun rose in the eastern sky, Becky moved over close to me and said, “It is nice to wake up with the sun shining in our faces. We will have to put more viewing windows in the cabin of the new vessel so the sunshine can wake us in the mornings.” Her words were reassuring and gave me hope that we would begin creating a new vessel in the very near future. I told her that I had already started a list of things that I would like to include in the new vessel. She rolled over on top of me and pinned my hands to the deck. She looked into my eyes and said, “Are you saying that I did a bad job of designing the Pacifica?” I floundered on my first words but finally managed to say, “Actually, you did a splendid job with this vessel. We survived a complete roll over in the ocean, we have weathered storms that would have floundered most vessels our size and you have navigated your vessel from California to the Hawaiian Islands. I cannot think of anyone else who could have pulled off what you have accomplished.” She leaned down, kissed me hard on the lips, and said, “I need breakfast more than I need sex or I would make love to you.” I laughed and said, “Shucks, I am not hungry at all.”