While our clothes dried, we did the job we both hated. We carried our chamber pots up on deck and dumped them. Then we used Becky’s clothes washing water to clean the pots. When they were again sanitary, I carried them back down into the cabin. We would not use them again unless we had to spend time below deck.
I decided to get the batteries charged back up in case we needed them. The solar panel would eventually charge them, but it would take many hours. Instead, I started one of the generators to do the job. I would give the generator an hour to put a healthy charge into the batteries and then switch to the solar panel to complete the cycle. I did not want to use any more diesel than we had to. We would need to purchase more diesel fuel when we arrived in Jamaica.
After breakfast, Becky got on the marine radio and found the VHF channel for the marina at Jamaica. Once she made contact, she arranged for a place to anchor for two days. As they talked, the man asked if the Pacifica-Two was the same vessel that he had seen on a news channel a few days ago. He explained that the video came from a local television studio in Veracruz, Panama and they had sent a copy to many of the larger marinas. Becky explained that he probably had seen the Pacifica-Two, because they were in Veracruz and someone had photographed them, but she had not seen the videos. When Becky cleared the channel, she said, “It seems we and the Pacifica-Two are well-known. The owner of the marina has seen videos of our vessel and he wants us to anchor in the very front of his harbor. He said he would wave our harbor fees if we would allow the television crews to film our arrival and departure. You may have to give an interview. He wants us to call him a couple hours before our arrival so he can give the television crews time to set up before we sail into port. I agreed to his requests.” I looked Becky in the eyes and said, “You indicated that I would be giving interviews. I think you have misstated who will be giving the interviews, Captain.” I saw Becky begin to smile. She said, “You may have to stand beside me so I do get nervous and stumble off the edge of the dock.” I chuckled and said, “If you wear that white bikini, I guarantee that the males behind the television cameras will be the ones stumbling off the edge of the dock.”
Chapter 32 – A Port of Call on the Island of Jamaica
We entered the coordinates into our handheld GPS units and guided the Pacifica-Two towards the marina. Becky called the owner of the marina an hour before noon to announce our arrival. When she cleared the channel, I could tell she was nervous. I said, “I will clean the cabin and put our underwear away in case a film crew decides to take a peek inside the cabin. I would not want my wife embarrassed when her dirty panties appeared on the evening news.” She slid into my arms, hugged me for a minute and then returned to the deck to stand watch. There were other vessels in the area and we certainly did not want any narrow escapes.
As we got close, Becky went down to the cabin and changed her clothes. When she stepped back up on deck, she looked gorgeous. I whistled at her and made her blush. As we entered the harbor, the wind died. We left the sails up, but I went down to the cabin and plugged in the remote unit so we could steer the vessel from the deck. We now had the capability to control our speed, the rudder position and the dive planes from this new remote box. As we entered the waters of the marina, we saw that the film crews had set up on the docks. We lowered the sails and fastened them to the mast. The owner came out to meet us and had us follow him. Once we were in position, I lowered the bow anchor. When it was secure, Becky turned the rudder so the vessel would slowly rotate in a circle around the anchor. She turned off the starboard motor and only operated the port side motor. The vessel slowly rotated so the camera crews could get a good look at the incredible sailing submersible vessel.
The vessel was spectacular in the bright sunlight. The upper half painted in metallic black sparkled and the lower half, painted grey stood out in the clear blue water of the harbor. As the vessel turned parallel to the docks, we lowered the stern anchor. As the owner motored up close to the port side ladder, he asked if he could bring a camera crew out to get pictures of the vessel and the cabin. We agreed, hoping to get this publicity event over. We both wanted to put our feet on something stable and unmoving.
When the film crew arrived, we assisted them in carrying their equipment up on deck, and then began the introductions. While the photographers set up their equipment, another motor boat arrived. The owner of the marina spoke to Becky and me and said, “I would like you to spend a night in one of our best hotel rooms, my treat. You will spend no money during your visit here with us.” Becky and I thanked him, but Becky said, “We need to have the hull of this vessel inspected. Do you have facilities to raise her out of the water for inspection?” The man said, “That is easily accomplished. I will arrange for that to occur in a couple hours, while we move you both into your hotel room.” Becky said, “I insist on paying for the inspection. That is not part of the publicity for your marina. Although, please feel free to allow your photographers to take pictures of the vessel once she is out of the water.” The owner said, “Once we finish here, we will move you to your room. After you have settled yourselves, I will come to your room and escort you to the repair facility. Then, you can motor your vessel into the dry dock. Once the vessel is out of the water, you can work with our technicians to insure all systems are in working order and undamaged.”
When we stepped into our hotel room, the place was incredible. We barely got the door locked before Becky began stripping off her clothes and headed to the shower. I listened to her sing quietly to herself as she showered; apparently, she had looked forward to some hot water and soap. When she finally stepped out of the bathroom, she was drying off with her towel. I walked over to her and kissed her. She giggled and said, “You could dry my back.” As I dried her beautifully tanned back, she leaned back against me. I kissed her on the neck and she moved my hand up to her breast. I rubbed gently and said, “I need this to stop, now. The owner will be here shortly and we will not be dressed if I touch your body again.” She giggled and began to dry her hair and get dressed. I quickly showered and dressed. We planned to work with the mechanics to inspect our vessel and then move the Pacifica-Two back out into the harbor. We would bring the dinghy back to the docks so we could load groceries into it before we set sail for the next leg of our journey.
We had no more than climbed down the ladder after moving the Pacifica-Two into the dry dock bay when the rain began coming down in torrents. I had not often seen raindrops so large. It was as if the skies had opened up. The men working to get timbers under our vessel, seemed not to notice the heavy rain. Apparently, this rain was a normal event on this island during certain times of the year. Within ten minutes time, these professionals had the Pacifica-Two out of the water. The huge trolley rose up and moved forward, lifting the Pacifica-Two out over the dry concrete floor of the workroom As Becky and I walked around under our vessel with the technicians, and we found everything still in tack and working correctly. The planes all worked properly and remained securely bolted to the hull of the Pacifica-Two. The propellers showed some wear, but the pins were tight and looked to be in good condition. We found one scratch on the hull under the port ladder, but had no idea what might have caused the scratch.
As the men returned the Pacifica-Two back into the water, we realized that one of the timbers rested right where the scratch was on the hull. We now knew what had caused the problem. I mentioned to Becky that the scratch was normal wear and tear and we surely would find more during our voyage. Becky giggled and said, “At least we did not put the first scratch in the hull. I have feared since day one that we would allow her to tip in the boathouse canal or bump her on a rock or dock.”
When we had moved the Pacifica-Two back out into the harbor, we decided to show off a little. One of the camera crews had filmed us taking the vessel out of the water and returning it. Now they had set up on the docks again. When we were certain the water was deep enough, we carefully insured that we had tied the sails securely to the masts. Then we clim
bed down into the cabin and closed the hatches. Once we could see the bottom of the harbor with our fish finders, we began to flood the ballast tanks with water. We felt the vessel slowly begin to sink towards the bottom of the harbor.
When we were down thirty feet and were certain that the tips of the masts were below water, we remained submerged for about ten minutes. Then we began blowing the water out of the ballast tanks and allowed the Pacifica-Two to rise slowly up out of the water. When we were properly sitting on the surface of the water, we opened the bow hatch and stepped out onto the deck. The dock now had forty or more people with cameras, all taking pictures. Becky stepped out to the edge of the deck and took a bow. I immediately began to whistle and clap my hands. I never realized I had married such a showoff, but it was great to see Becky getting the recognition she deserved for designing this incredible vessel. Now that the publicity stunt was over, we dropped the anchors and made certain the vessel was secure.
Becky said, “I don’t know about you, but I am getting hungry. Shall we go to shore and get some food?” We got the dinghy out of the cabin and placed it on the deck. I put two spare inflation cartridges into my pocket and pulled the cord to inflate our transportation to shore. Once the dinghy was fully inflated, we pushed it over the side and into the water. As we paddled towards the dock, we realized the owner was standing with the film crew. When we got to the dock and tied up, the owner stepped up to us and said, “I am speechless. Thank you for the diving demonstration. I just watched a replay and it is incredible. I am now paying for your dry dock inspection charges. You have done me proud with your demonstrations and interviews with the television people. This marina and your vessel are to be show cased in some very notable magazines in the near future. Thank both of you for visiting us.”
As we excused ourselves and headed into the restaurant for dinner, the owner stepped up to the cashier and spoke to her. The waitress seated us and took our drink and food order. As we sat looking out towards the harbor, we could see the Pacifica-Two slowly rolling in the waves that a large catamaran made as it slowly moved out into the shipping channel. As we waited for our food, the waitress turned on a large television over the bar and turned up the volume. The people that were eating their meals looked up to see a video playing that showed the Pacifica-Two sinking into the harbor and then slowly rising back up. Then the camera zoomed in on Becky’s face as she bowed towards the docks. When the waitress turned the television back off, the owner stepped into the center of the room and looked at us. He spoke loud enough for everyone in the room to hear as he said, "Thank you Becky and Stanley for showing us your spectacular sailing vessel you have designed and built, The Pacifica-Two. We are pleased you joined us this day. Have a safe trip on your voyage to New York. I also hear you are going to travel the southern route around South America on your return trip back to your home in San Francisco. Have a pleasant and safe journey my friends.” Then he walked over to our table and talked to us for a moment. When he turned to walk away, the restaurant staff all gave us a round of applause. I watched a smile form on Becky’s face that would remain ingrained in my mind for my remaining years on planet Earth.
The following morning, we motored out of the harbor and set sail in the shipping channel. We were both happy to get back onboard. We loved all the people we had met, but our first love was the sea. As we sailed past a large freighter, I heard someone hailing the Pacifica-Two over the marine radio. When I answered the hail, I realized I was speaking to the captain of the freighter that loomed two stories above us. The man said, “We are watching feeds from the local television station showing your vessel submerging and surfacing. That is one incredible vessel my friend. You will run into rain as you move towards the Cayman Islands, probably within the next two hours. Have a safe trip,” then the captain cleared the channel. When I turned around, Becky was staring at me. She did not say anything and I guess that was best. She was managing not to cry, but she knew if she spoke even a single word, she would lose that composure.
As we sailed southwest around the southern side of Jamaica, we worked out the distance to our next port of call, Key West Florida. We had calculated the distance to Florida to be around eleven-hundred miles. That distance would require ten or so days of steady sailing. We planned to make the journey without stopping, except to catch some fish and to bathe. We had carefully stocked the Pacifica-Two with fresh fruit and vegetables while in Jamaica. The water jugs were full of drinkable water and we should have little difficulty with the run to Florida.
Just before suppertime, we lowered the sails and tried our hand at fishing. Becky hooked the first fish and managed to get it onto the swim platform. The fish was about two feet long, so I continued fishing, hoping to find another one about the same size. Two fish this size would feed us for three days. Within a few minutes, I had a second fish on the platform. This one was about four inches longer than Becky’s was. When she slid her fish up next to mine, I saw the competitive side of her return. She looked up at me and stuck out her tongue. I chuckled and grabbed her wrist. She tried to free my grip, but I pulled her to me. I sat down on the platform and pulled her over my lap. I pulled her bikini bottoms down and gave her a swat on her bare skin. I heard her squeal and I let her up. She stood up beside me with her swimsuit down around her knees and said, “You will pay for that.” She pulled up her pants and carried the two fish up onto the deck.
As we cleaned our fish and carefully packed the fillets, Becky kissed me just as we both stood up from placing the fish in the cool box. I chuckled and said, “I hope I did not hurt your feelings when I spanked you.” She looked at me and said; “A playful swat on my butt is always a turn on. A true spanking will get you thrown overboard and drowned.” I pulled her to me and kissed her hard on the lips.
As we cleaned our fish and discarded the remains overboard, we discovered a good reason not to swim in these shallow waters. Two large fins appeared behind the Pacifica-Two, attracted by the carcasses we had thrown overboard. We quickly put on our safety belts and tether lines as we set the sails and moved out of the area. Falling overboard in these coastal waters would not be something either of us would like to have happen. We never managed to see the sharks well enough to be certain what type they were, but they had rather large second dorsal fins. By looking at the design of the dorsal fins in our fish book, they appeared to be sand tiger sharks.
On the morning of the second day out, a strong southwest wind began blowing. We set the spinnaker and let the Pacifica-Two ride high in the water. Even with the strong winds, the waves remained small, giving us maximum speed towards the Cayman Islands. We never touched the sails for two full days. I had never seen the wind remain in one direction for two days in a row, but we were pleased that it did so.
Chapter 33 – Sailing into the Gulf of Mexico
On the morning of the tenth day, our GPS said we were in the Gulf of Mexico. We were thirty miles west of the tip of Cuba. We had taken down the spinnaker as we moved between Cuba and the northwestern tip of Mexico. As we turned towards the northeast, the wind picked up again and we hung the spinnaker again. As our speed increased, nightfall set in. We decided to take turns standing watch during the night.
The wind remained strong and steady throughout the night. As the miles ticked off, we were beginning to feel pretty good about this last leg of the trip. As the sun began to rise, our GPS showed us that we were about one hundred and fifty miles from Key West, Florida. It was then that we realized that a Coast Guard vessel was following us and slowly catching up to us. We could see the Coast Guard ensign flying on the vessel and were pretty certain they would want to board us. We took down the spinnaker and moved it into the cabin. Becky got out the pistols and loaded them; then we strapped them to our waists. As the vessel got closer, we could see the name of the vessel painted on the bow.
As the Coast Guard vessel came along side, us, Becky hailed them before they hailed us. She asked why they were running so close to the Pacifica-Two. The officer
that she was talking too began asking questions about our destination and the last port we had visited. Becky answered all his questions, but he said, “We will be boarding your vessel to insure you are not transporting drugs.” Becky explained that the Navy had boarded the Pacifica-Two in the past and found no drugs. The officer said, “Stand by to be boarded.” Becky and I lowered the sails and tied them to the masts.
When the skiff came up alongside the ladder, Becky said, “Only the ranking officer may board my vessel.” The man in the back of the boat stepped up to the ladder and began climbing. When he reached the top, I offered him my hand. As he stood in front of us, he introduced himself. Becky followed suit with introductions. The officer said, “We are always concerned about vessels that could be carrying drugs or smuggling illegal immigrants.” The officer asked, “May I inspect the interior of this vessel?” Becky said, “You may.” The officer said, “May I see some identification from both of you and the paperwork for this vessel.” I handed him my driver’s license and then began passing him the papers he requested. Once he inspected Becky’s drivers license, he said, “May I now see the cabin, please.” Becky said, “I will lead the way. Stanley will remain on deck.” As the two headed down into the cabin, I talked to the three men in the skiff below me. They were curious about a submarine with sails.” I explained how the Pacifica-Two worked and kept the men occupied while the officer inspected our vessel.
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