Adakoy Shipyard
Adakoy, Turkey
April 11, 2014
Theo used his red-tipped cane to point out the bulkhead at the forward end of the engine room. “We started to mount the watermaker here but we ran into trouble right away.”
Cole smiled at Theo’s pronunciation of the word “watermaker.” Even after all their years together, he still loved listening to Theo’s melodic British-Caribbean accent. They were standing on an aluminum-grate catwalk that allowed them to walk around the two big John Deere six-cylinder diesels. There was enough headroom that even Cole’s tall, slender first mate could stand with his usual straight-backed posture. Cole and Theo had designed this new boat to have the engine room of their dreams.
Theo continued, “I didn’t realize you’d changed the specs on the unit you ordered. The membrane and the pumps are bigger than I thought. There won’t be enough clearance to walk around the starboard engine if we do it that way, and we’re certainly not giving that up. I told Tony we’re going to have to find someplace else to mount it.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“It’s going to take some time. There’s a lot to be considered, and he’d already routed some of the plumbing. Now we have to rip that out and start over. Plus there’s an issue with some of the electronics on the bridge that I want to see to first. We’re having trouble getting everything onto one network. I need all my data in our local cloud to run this boat. The manufacturers are on board with ubiquitous Wi-Fi these days, but half of them design their units to generate their own separate clouds. That won’t do. And then some of what I want still only comes with NMEA 0183.”
“Theo, could you speak English, please?” Cole said.
In fact, Theo was from the island of Dominica and his grasp of the language was much better than Cole’s. He was brilliant. With the help of the Internet, online videos of university lectures, and TED talks, his first mate who had never attended a single university class was a first-rate electrical and mechanical engineer as well as an inventor. Not a day went by when Cole didn’t feel intense gratitude for having met Theo that day in Ocracoke.
“Bottom line, Skipper, is you said you wanted everything up and running before we launched. This is going to delay us another week or so.”
“Shit.”
“We could put her in the water tomorrow and do this work dockside, if you want.”
“Once we launch, we have to go. It’s the element of surprise.”
A shadow passed over Theo’s face. Cole looked up and saw Riley peering down through the engine room’s aft deck hatch.
“Hi, boys,” she called out. “How’s it going?”
“Theo’s telling me there’s another week’s delay.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes,” Cole said.
“Well, climb up out of there and tell me about it.”
Theo said, “Let’s go up to the bridge. I want to show you some of the cool stuff I’ve got working now.”
Cole remembered his first time working on the Ocracoke Shipwreck Survey, when he was still getting his doctorate. The maritime archeology department’s boat was more than fifteen years old then, but he thought the bridge was so cool with all its little boxes and circular dials, some with digital readouts. Engine RPMs and oil pressure, depth sounder, radar, sonar—all that data displayed on the dozens of dedicated instruments on the panel in front of the wheel.
As Theo had explained to him, times had now changed. They worked with a Brazilian designer on their new eighty-three-foot expedition yacht, and everything was state of the art—from the easily driven hull that should motor at twelve knots with the twin diesels, to the new array of screens on the bridge.
They had chosen to have her built in Turkey after they discovered the country’s terrific boatyards and craftsmen. The Adakoy Shipyard mostly catered to yacht repair, but their builder had rented the big shed on one side of their yacht and then had arranged to have access to the yard’s personnel and shops. A big open area separated their boat from the rest of the yard’s tenants, and theirs was the biggest boat in the yard.
The engine room occupied the aft half of the lower deck inside the hull. Forward of that were two guest cabins, and in the bow was a cargo hold for dive equipment, accessible with the big hydraulic crane on the main deck. They exited the engine room by climbing steps that took them up to the aft main deck. There, double doors led into the salon, with a dining table to port and a lounging settee and coffee table to starboard. The furnishings were all covered with plastic, as there was still work under way. Forward of the salon was the enormous galley, a head, and stairs that led down to the guest cabins and up to the “sky lounge.”
That was what the designer called it, and while Cole and Riley had laughed the first time they’d heard it, it turned out to suit the space. They took the stairs up and entered the master stateroom that would become Cole and Riley’s when the boat was finished. It was huge, with a queen-sized berth, double computer-desk stations, built-in cabinets, and a head with a full tub. The cabin had large windows of twenty-millimeter glass around three of the four walls—the same as was used in the wheelhouse, which occupied the forward end of the sky lounge. Cole pushed open the door, and they entered his favorite place on the boat.
Riley plopped into one of the two cream-colored Italian-leather seats facing four large screens mounted below the polarized windows, which provided 180-degree views. She sighed, “This looks like a movie editor’s work desk with a great view.”
Theo’s guide dog, a yellow Lab named Princess Leia, nuzzled Riley’s hand. Cole said, “She’s missed you. You haven’t been coming around the boat much lately.”
Riley cradled the dog’s head between her hands and scratched the silky ears. “I’ve missed you too, Princess.”
Theo said, “I can hear those puppy groans. Don’t spoil her. She’s supposed to be a work dog.”
“Oh please, Theo, when she’s home, she’s family. And now that the two of you have moved into your cabin on board, this is her home. Besides, it’s not like you need to be guided around this boat. You helped design every square inch of her.”
Theo smiled but didn’t say a word. There was no arguing that point.
Riley said, “Okay, I see four twenty-inch screens, but where are the instruments?”
“Those are the instruments,” Theo said.
“Wait till you see this,” Cole said. “Show her, Theo.”
“Yoda?” Theo said.
A deep male voice answered from built-in speakers at either side of the wheelhouse. “Yes, Theo?”
“Show me engine instruments on Bridge Display One.”
The far-left screen lit up with an array of dials and gauges showing temperature, oil pressure, RPM, flow meter.
Cole saw Riley’s eyes widen in delight.
Theo said, “SOG, wind speed, water temp, and heading on Bridge Display Two.” Images appeared on another one of the screens.
“That’s brilliant,” Riley said.
Cole said, “So you don’t need all the individual dials and stuff anymore. You can configure these screens to show any instruments you want to see.”
“Exactly,” Theo said. “That’s why we need all the data—from the lights to the freezer temperature to the TVs to the engines to the depth sounder—on the ship’s network. You will be able to see it on your smartphone, a tablet, or on these screens. Actually, all the screens in the staterooms, too. Right now, the last two there aren’t connected yet, but they will be soon. And for those of us who are visually challenged, I can have Yoda read aloud any data I ask for.”
“But Theo, ‘Yoda’?”
“He’s a total geek, Riley. What do you expect?”
“I am not! If I expect to run this boat, I need certain assistive technologies. So you can speak to Yoda in any space anywhere on this boat.”
“Even in the master stateroom?” Riley pointed aft.
“Sure. If you’re lying in bed and you wan
t to turn the lights off, you don’t have to get up. Just ask Yoda to do it for you.”
“Does that mean he’ll be listening in on us?”
Cole looked at the concern on Riley’s face. Lately, the only noise anyone would hear coming from their bunk was snoring. Since they’d arrived in Turkey he’d been working late and coming to bed exhausted.
“Riley, he’s not a person. He’s a computer,” Theo said.
“Yeah, but he can talk, which means he can tell you what we’re doing.”
Or not doing, Cole thought.
“So you want me to program a privacy mode?”
“Please?”
“Okay. Yoda?”
“Yes, Theo.”
“Yoda, add ‘privacy mode’ to the punch list.”
“Yes, Theo.”
Cole flopped down into the chair next Riley. “The longer that list gets, the more I start to believe I’ll never make it to Malta.”
“Look, guys,” Theo said. “There’s not a whole lot either one of you can do to help out with these last-minute jobs. To be honest, the work will probably go faster if you leave it to us.”
“I’ve got skills,” Cole said. “I might not be an electronics guy, but there are a dozen other ways you can put me to work.”
“I’m not questioning your skills, Skipper. The thing is, every time you two come aboard, something else gets added to the list.”
Cole glanced at Riley, and she shrugged. They both knew Theo was right.
“So here’s my suggestion,” Theo said. “Why don’t you two take off on a nice getaway. Fly to Malta for a few days. Scope it out. Didn’t you say that the woman you met in Rhodes, the history expert, was going back to Malta? Go spend some time with her. Visit the museums. Find a nice little bed-and-breakfast—”
“And get the hell out of your hair?” Cole finished his sentence for him.
Theo grinned. “Not to put too fine a point on it.”
Alex’s B&B
Sliema, Malta
April 12, 2014
Cole opened the door and peered out into the hall. “I don’t see anyone around.”
“He said he only rents out two of the rooms. What were you expecting?”
“No idea. But this is the strangest B and B I’ve ever stayed in. I mean, it’s just some guy’s fourth-floor, three-bedroom apartment, and he rents out two of the bedrooms?”
“Welcome to the new sharing economy. I love it. And he said last night to make ourselves at home. Let’s get dressed and go see what’s for breakfast.”
When they entered the dining area, Riley was pleased to see the table was set with fruit cups, pastries, juice, and an insulated coffeepot. Cole would be fine once he got some food in his stomach.
They hadn’t had much time to chat with their host the night before. Their plane had been late, the taxi got lost, and they’d arrived after ten o’clock. He’d introduced himself as Alex, shown them the room, and wished them good night.
“This looks yummy,” Riley said as she slid onto one of the high stools around the breakfast table. Through the lace curtains on the window she saw a patch of blue sky, and a shaft of sunlight poured onto the carpet.
They were nearly finished with their meal when Alex appeared in the entry.
“Good morning!” he said, his voice booming. He spread his arms wide. “Welcome to Malta!”
His curly black hair clung to his head like a poodle’s coat, yet his eyes were a surprising pale blue. He wasn’t handsome in a conventional way, but his enthusiastic personality seemed to fill the room. Riley guessed he was in his forties.
“Thanks,” she said. She noticed that Cole was hunched over with his nose practically buried in his coffee mug.
“You have come to one of the most fascinating places in the world.”
“So we’ve heard,” she said.
“Malta is where north meets south and east meets west. It has been at the center of European history.” Like most Maltese, he spoke flawless English with a lovely, lilting accent.
“I can tell you love your country very much.”
Alex bowed to her. “Pardon me. Yes, I do. Are you finding everything you need?” He pointed at the breakfast table.
“Yes.” Riley raised her coffee cup in a salute. “It’s delicious.”
“So what brings you to Malta?”
Cole shot her a look that said, Don’t encourage him!
Riley ignored him. “Cole is a maritime archeologist. He’s interested in the Knights of Malta.”
“Ah,” Alex said, placing his finger alongside his nose. He smiled. “The Knights. As perhaps you know, they reigned over these islands for more than two hundred years. In the beginning, the Maltese people were happy to see them arrive. They were fierce in battle, and they fought off the Ottoman invaders for thirty years before defeating them soundly during the Great Siege. The Ottomans put the heads of the dead Knights on posts to demoralize their opponents. The Knights fought back by using the heads of dead Turks as cannonballs.”
“That’s gruesome,” Riley said. “They were men of God on the one hand, and brutal killers on the other.”
“They weren’t all men of God,” Alex said.
“Really?”
“Well, there were quite a few naughty Knights.”
Riley laughed. “That’s not the first time we’ve heard that.” She noticed Cole was watching Alex now.
“At the end of their stay here in Malta,” Alex said, now speaking to both of them, “most of the Knights ignored their vows of celibacy. You have heard of our neighboring island of Gozo?”
Cole nodded.
“When a Knight found out his mistress was pregnant, the Order sent her to a convent on Gozo to bear the child out of wedlock. The child could take the Knight’s name, but it would have the word de added. So, for example, if the Knight’s name was Niro, the child would be named DeNiro. He is of Niro, but not a real Niro.”
“I can’t believe they just sent those women away,” Riley said.
“They were not very nice, the Knights. They were fierce pirates, also called corsairs. When they first arrived here from Rhodes, they had only these great galleys with oars. They were rowed by hundreds of slaves. While they were here in Malta, they modernized and added sails to their galleys. They attacked the Ottomans and the Arabs down on the Barbary Coast. It is said that they amassed a great treasure in Fort Saint Angelo. There was in the center of the fort a great room filled with all the gold, silver, jewels, and parchments they stole throughout the centuries.”
“What happened to the treasure?” Cole asked.
Alex laughed. “Ah, the archeologist is interested in treasure after all.”
Riley glimpsed Cole turning aside and rolling his eyes. She knew how he hated it when people thought he was just a treasure hunter.
“Napoleon stole most of it. There are many stories and legends, but no one knows for certain. Have you heard the Legend of the Silver Girl?”
Riley saw Cole glance at the outside door. “We don’t have a lot of time here,” he said.
“Oh, please, I’m sorry,” Alex said. “I’ve been talking too much.” He reached for their dishes to clear the table.
“We can do that,” Riley said. “It’s just that we’re anxious to get to Valletta. There’s so much to see.”
“Valletta is an extraordinary city. Yes, many museums and architectural wonders. But if you really want to understand this fortified city, you should take the trek around the outer walls. You see, I am a trekker. And this is one of my favorite treks. Sometimes the trail will get narrow, but continue on. You can circle the entire city.”
“That sounds fabulous,” Riley said. “What’s the best way to get to Valletta from here?”
“You can take the ferry or the bus. If you take the ferry across from Sliema, which is my suggestion for you, don’t go up into the center of the city right away. Instead, turn left and walk around at the level of the sea. It is a beautiful trek that will take you two to th
ree hours, but you will see the city of Valletta in a very special way.”
Lazaretto Submarine Base
Manoel Island, Malta
April 6, 1942
Tug Wilson tapped on the open door and said, “You sent for me, sir?”
The base commander, Captain “Shrimp” Simpson, looked up from the paperwork on his desk. He ran his hand through his close-cut wavy hair.
“Come in, Tug. Have a seat.” He gestured toward a rusty metal folding chair opposite his desk.
Tug didn’t like the sound of this. He sat down on the offered chair with every expectation that his home leave was evaporating.
“I know you’ve got your orders, and you’re awaiting transport back home.”
“And looking forward to it, sir.”
“I have a favor to ask of you, Tug.”
“I’m listening.”
“There are two agents. We need to land them on the coast as soon as possible. I know I’ve got Charlie, but just one of your little folding boats won’t be enough. I need a second man. The agents will be carrying radio gear, but all you have to do is get them on shore. Then you’ll be on your way home.”
“Right,” Tug said. Shrimp always had a way of making these missions sound like a piece of cake.
“This isn’t a cancellation of your leave, Tug. Just think of it as a slight detour. I’ve worked it out so you’ll be able to rendezvous and transfer onto the Unbeaten. She’s headed to Gibraltar for some repairs. Once you’re at Gib you should be able to find a ride on home. What do you say?”
“I capsized the last time I tried to land an agent.”
“Yes, Tug, I know.”
“And my canoe was so broken up we had to sink it.”
“Yes. But the mission was still a success. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
“And whose boat will I be on for the mission?”
“That’ll be Wanklyn. The Upholder.”
Tug pulled at one end of his mustache. “Wanks, eh?”
“Parker will be going, too.”
Tug enjoyed drawing out the moment and making Shrimp wait. At least he could pretend like he had a choice in the matter. “What time does she sail?”
Knight's Cross (The Shipwreck Adventures Book 3) Page 7