Mango Lucky

by Bill Myers

  Anna held Bob while I ran the slide room back in. I then pulled on my rain jacket, went outside and disconnected from shore power and water.

  Before going back inside, I did a quick walk around to make sure everything was disconnected and ready to go.

  It wasn't.

  The TV antenna was still up. Didn't want to drive with it that way. It'd be too easy to break it off passing under tree branches.

  Back inside, I stripped off the wet rain coat, and cranked down the antenna. The Love Bus was now ready to go.

  Anna pointed outside, "My Land Cruiser is in your way. I'll leave first. Give me about ten minutes to find a campsite up there, then you follow."

  I nodded, "Be careful."

  Anna pulled on her raincoat, grabbed her car keys and headed outside.

  I watched as she ran through the rain, unlocked the driver's door and climbed in. The Land Cruiser started without any difficulty and Anna drove off in search of higher ground.

  Seeing that she was having no problem with the wet road, I returned my attention to getting ready to move. That's when I noticed she had left her gym bag beside the dinette table. With her gun still in it.

  Not wanting to chance it spilling out while I was driving, I picked up the bag and placed it in one of the overhead compartments. Then I moved to the driver's seat, started the motor and drove off in the same direction Anna had.

  I knew from the campground map, that the campsites were located around a series of circular drives, and at the center of each circle was a rest room building.

  To get from my current campsite, which was on the outer most circle, to the rest room building, I needed to follow the road to the first big curve, and then turn left onto the inner circle road.

  Shouldn't be a problem.

  It took less than three minutes for me to find the turn to the inner circle leading to higher ground. And soon after, I could see the spot Anna had chosen for us, her white Land Cruiser parked beside it.

  She had chosen well. A site adjacent to the campgrounds restrooms. The concrete block structure would provide some shelter from the howling wind.

  I carefully parked in the spot she had selected, making sure to leave room for the slide-out on the driver's side.

  As soon as I turned off the motor, Anna tapped on the door, then came it. She stripped off her rain coat, saying, "Man, it's nasty out there. The rain just keeps coming down."

  Then she smiled, "So how do you like my campsite choice?"

  "You did good," I said. "That building should block a lot of wind."

  She nodded, then asked, "Did you notice any other campers? The ranger said there were others, but I didn't see anyone else."

  "No," I replied. "I didn't see anyone out there. Maybe we've got the place to ourselves."

  She smiled, "So, no electricity. And no water. Does that mean no TV and no microwave dinners?"

  I shook my head, "Don't worry. Everything in here can run on battery power. Except the microwave, and for that we can start the generator.

  "So we're set. But I'd like to run the slide room out. Would you go back and make sure Bob is out of the way?"

  As soon as Anna had located Bob and gave the all clear, I pressed the button to extend the slide room. The floor rumbled as the slide slowly went out, opening up more floor space inside.

  With the slide completely out, Anna came to the front and said, "Now that we're both awake and already a little wet, let's go somewhere."

  I turned to her, "Are you crazy? You want to go out in this storm?"

  She nodded, "Yep, we can take the Land Cruiser. It's got four wheel drive, and we won't have any problem getting around.

  "We can go out and do a little reconnaissance. Check out the condition of the beaches and roads.

  "And it's not like we've got anything else to do. How about it?"

  I really didn't want to go back out into the storm. I'd had my fill of it yesterday. But I didn't want Anna going out without me.

  "Are you sure you want to go out in the storm? They said to stay off the roads."

  Anna pulled on her rain coat, "I'm going to go check things out. Are you coming?"

  Reluctantly, I said, "Yes."

  And that was a mistake.

  32

  "Get your raincoat," Anna said. "You're going to need it."

  We were heading out into the storm. I wasn't sure that was such a good idea. I'd rather heed the warnings being repeated every few minutes on local TV. Stay indoors, stay off the roads, don't go out except in emergencies.

  But Anna was determined to go, and I wasn't going to let her go alone. So I opened the hatch where I'd stored her gym bag and handed it down to her. Then I pulled on my raincoat, and headed out the door behind her.

  The rain was still coming down hard, and the high winds had littered the road with leaves, palm fronds and other assorted debris.

  "Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked.

  Anna smiled. "It'll be fun. And if it starts to look dangerous, we'll come back."

  "It already looks dangerous to me," I muttered.

  Anna either didn't hear me or chose to ignore my comment. Leaving the safety of the Love Bus behind us, Anna put her Land Cruiser into gear, and we headed out.

  Getting through the campground was easy. The heavy Land Cruiser with full time four wheel drive and high ground clearance had no problem driving over the downed debris.

  Reaching the main gate, a sign had been posted indicating the park was closed. The sign probably wasn't necessary since all the bridges to the island were closed and no new campers would be able to reach the campground.

  Leaving the park behind, Anna pulled out onto A1A, the two lane road that runs along the edge of the beach for the full length of Hutchinson Island. We headed south.

  A1A, like the road in the campground, was carpeted with palm fronds, leaves and branches blown down by the storm.

  Anna drove slowly, dodging the larger piles of debris, her wipers running full speed trying to stay ahead of the pouring rain.

  We had gone about three miles when Anna slowed and then stopped.

  Up ahead, the road was no longer visible. Instead of pavement, all we could see was water.

  Anna pointed to the water, "This is the narrowest part of the island. Only about 500 feet wide.

  "The Atlantic is on one side, the Indian River on the other. And judging by the water on the road, it looks like the Indian River has come up out of its banks.

  "That's not good. If it rises up high enough to wash out the dunes, it could cut a new channel to the Atlantic, and that would be real bad.

  "It would mean this part of the island would be completely cut off from the mainland until a new bridge was built. That could take years."

  Looking into the rear view mirror, she said, "We need to turn around. I'm not going to try to drive through that."

  As Anna shifted into reverse, I shouted "Stop!"

  She slammed on the brakes. "What!"

  I pointed, "Look over there. That car on the side of the road."

  Anna looked where I was pointing, and she saw what I saw. A small car sitting on the beach side of the road, water up to its door sills.

  She nodded, "Looks like someone pulled off the road and got stuck in the sand. When the water recedes, they'll get a wrecker to pull it out."

  "Anna, look closer. There's movement inside the car. Somebody's in there."

  Anna wiped the fog from her window, and looked again. "You're right. There's definitely someone in there."

  Then she said, "You know we've got to try to rescue them."

  I nodded, "You got any rope?"

  As it turned out, Anna did have a thirty foot bright yellow tow strap in the back of the Land Cruiser.

  She explained it this way, "When you spend enough time on this coast, you learn to be prepared. I always carry a tow strap. Too many tourists park in the sand, and need help getting out."

  She pointed to the back, "I'll get the tow strap, and
you go talk to the driver. Tell him we'll try to pull him out."

  I reluctantly stepped out into the driving rain. The water in the road was almost up to my knees and rising fast. It was cold and murky.

  Hunching over to shield my face from the wind and stinging rain, I made my way over to the car.

  As I got closer, I could hear barking. A dog. Inside the car.

  When I reached the car I was surprised to see that the dog was alone. No one else was in the car.

  I double-checked to make sure. I went around to each window and looked in. The dog was alone. No one in the front seat, and no one in the back.

  Just a big black dog. Standing in the driver's seat, wagging his tail. Very happy to see me.

  No signs of anyone else.

  I wondered what kind of person would abandon their car in flood waters, leaving their dog to drown?

  I looked at the dog and said, "Don't worry buddy, we'll get you out."

  I tried the driver's side door, but it was locked. All the others were locked as well. All the windows were rolled up.

  Turning back toward Anna, I shouted, "No driver. But there's a dog."

  My voice was drowned out by the roar of the storm. Anna couldn't hear me.

  Wading back through the flood water, I finally reached the Cruiser and Anna. Pointing back behind me, I said, "No one's inside. Just a big black dog. "

  Anna thought about it, then said, "Well the dog didn't drive out here by himself. Maybe the driver got out looking for help."

  Looking around, we could see the only place the driver could go would be up over the beach dunes toward the Atlantic. And there wouldn't be any help that way.

  "What if," suggested Anna, "the driver of the car is out on the beach metal detecting. Maybe he doesn't know the water is up over the road."

  I nodded, "That's possible. But no matter what, we can't leave the dog. He'll drown if the water comes up much further. So we either find the owner, or we break into the car and take the dog with us."

  Pointing at the sand dune, I said, "I'll climb up there and see if I can see anyone on the beach."

  I waded back through the water to the car, then left the road and turned toward the dune. It was thick with sea grapes, but there was a small path leading to the top. I followed it.

  As I neared the top of the dune, the wind hit me. Coming straight off the white caps of the Atlantic ocean, it was full of foam and sand.

  Shielding my eyes, I scanned the beach, looking for the driver of the car.

  It didn't take long to find him. He was about twelve feet below me with a metal detector in one hand and a sand scoop in the other.

  He was furiously digging a hole in the sand, which the incoming tide and pouring rain was filling back in almost as fast as he was digging it out.

  "Hey!" I shouted and waved my arms overhead, trying to get the man's attention.

  No response.

  He either didn't hear me or was ignoring me.

  Rather than waste time shouting, I made my way down to the base of the dune and stood directly in front of the man.

  He looked up, "What the hell? What are you doing here?"

  I pointed over my shoulder, "The Indian River is flooding. You car is nearly under water. Your dog is going to drown."

  Still digging, he said, "I can't leave now. I finally found it."

  I grabbed his shoulders with both hands and shook him. "You're leaving now. Either on your own, or I'm carrying you out. Nothing you've found here is worth losing your life for."

  He looked me in the eye and said, "You have no idea."

  Then he shook his head, picked up his detector and said, "You're right. It's not worth dying for. And I can't let Jake drown."

  I pointed, "You first." Not trusting that he would follow me.

  When we reached the top of the dune, we could see how far the Indian River stretched out in front of us, and how it had flooded the road.

  The man said, "Damn. I didn't realized it was rising this fast. I've got to get Jake out of here."

  Apparently, Jake was the dog's name.

  We climbed down the dune to the car. Jake was barking inside, happy to see his owner return.

  At the car, I said, "See if you can drive out. If not, we'll pull you out."

  The man nodded, and used his remote to unlock the car. He opened the back door and put his metal detector and sand scoop inside.

  He then climbed in the driver's seat and started the motor. Putting the car in gear, he tried to pull forward, but his tires just spun in the sand.

  I tapped on his window. "Kill the motor. I'll get the tow strap and we'll try to pull you out."

  Back at the Land Cruiser, I filled Anna in on the situation. The guy was metal detecting in the storm. Didn't realize the water had come up. Now his car was stuck and we needed to get him out.

  My plan was to connect the tow strap from the Land Cruiser to the car. I'd signal Anna when it was time to pull.

  Connecting the strap to the Land Cruiser was easy. It had large tow hooks below the front bumper. Took only a minute to get it done.

  Connecting the other end of the strap to the car was much more difficult, as half of the car's front end was under the rising water.

  It took me about ten minutes to dig out the sand under the car's bumper and find a place to secure the tow strap.

  When it was secure, I tapped on the driver's window and said, "Start your motor, hold your foot on the brake, and put the car in neutral. When you see the tow strap tighten, take your foot off the brake so we can pull you out.

  "When you see the Cruiser stop and the tow strap go slack, put your foot on the brakes. Don't hit the Cruiser."

  The driver nodded, and I signaled Anna to start pulling.

  She put the Cruiser in low four, then in reverse, and began backing up slowly.

  The tow strap pulled taut and I signaled the other driver to get off the brakes. I moved behind his car, just in case the strap broke.

  At first, the Cruiser seemed to struggle, all four tires trying to find grip on the wet pavement. Then it dug in, and the car at the other end of the tow strap jolted as its tires broke loose from the sand.

  With the car released from the sand's grip, the Cruiser had no problem pulling it through the flood waters and out onto A1A.

  Anna continued in reverse, pulling the car to dry pavement just beyond the edge where the Indian River had flooded the road. Seeing the car was high and dry, she coasted to a stop.

  I tapped on the now unstuck car's window, "Kill the motor. I'll unhook the tow strap."

  Not wanting to be accidentally run over, I waited until the driver put the car in park and turned off the motor before I attempted to disconnect the strap. Then I got down below the car's bumper and got to work.

  As I lay on my back on the wet road, trying to untie the knot in the tow strap that had been pulled tight, I noticed the wind was creating small white caps on the flood waters that crossed the road.

  This was not turning out to be a good week. I was laying on my back on a wet road. I was soaked to the bone, cold, covered in sand, and for the second day in a row, I was outside in a dangerous storm.

  After finally getting the tow strap unhooked, I went back to the driver and said, "You're set to go. Be careful."

  As I was about to walk away, the man behind the wheel said, "Wait. Take this."

  He handed me a small coin. My reward.

  I shook my head and walked back to Anna in the Cruiser. There, I unhooked the other end of the tow strap, coiled it up, and put it in the back seat.

  When I finally climbed into the passenger seat, Anna asked, "So what did he say?"

  I shook my head, "Nothing. He just handed me a quarter for our trouble."

  While we were still sitting there talking about this, the man in the car waved as he drove by, heading north on A1A.

  At least he was smart enough not to try to drive south into flooded road.

  33

  We were in Anna'
s Land Cruiser, heading back to the campground. I was soaked from head to toe after spending almost an hour in the pouring rain trying to rescue the man and the dog.

  Anna was doing all the talking while I was doing my best not to shiver in my wet clothes, chilled to the bone for the second time in as many days.