Ms. Anna

by Bill Lockwood

  Max started to cross the deck. Then he stopped. “Wait, don’t those Santería and voodoo practices have something to do with sacrificing chickens?”

  “Captain Max,” Captain Jim spoke up again. “There you go with all that weird stuff again, like you asked about the cards. You cannot learn all the secrets of our island the day you arrive, and we can only tell you while we are drinking beer.”

  “Too many damn traditions here.” Max shook his head.

  Anna again headed toward the hatch that led down to the galley.

  “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten lobster,” Captain Bob said. “It’s always too expensive.”

  “Stick with our arroz con frijoles.” Captain Jim smiled. He hefted Max’s suitcase, and they followed along. “Besides, I think you’re supposed to eat lobster with fine wine, not our simple beer.”

  They all went down a short set of steps on a ladder into the small galley/dining area that was the center of the below-deck cabins. Portholes just above the deckline on both sides let in the still bright late afternoon light.

  “This is a decent little galley,” Max said, giving his approval. “It’s just a shame you don’t have some of that good salsa music you had at the bar playing here.”

  “Max!” Anna rolled her eyes. “This is a tuna boat, not a cruise ship…but I do have a CD player in my cabin. Later, I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks.” Max smiled. “I was once a musician…”

  Captain Bob said, “We should have a bottle of fine red wine to welcome our new captain aboard.”

  “That’s okay.” Max waved his hand to dismiss the idea. “You didn’t know I was coming. You know, I’m really hungry now. Perhaps a coffee first, though.”

  “That I can do.” Anna took a pot from the stove to fill for boiling water.

  “We had some tequila, but I think that’s all gone now. I do have a bottle of rum,” Captain Bob said, but none of the others seemed interested.

  Captain Jim shrugged and opened the fridge, and he and Captain Bob each took a beer, and the three men sat down at the small table in the center of the room.

  Anna took a frying pan down from a hook over the stove. “Arroz con frijoles coming right up.”

  “Thanks,” Max said. “Maybe tomorrow night I could make us all some good chowder. I suppose I could do it with tuna.”

  “We get tired of tuna.” Captain Bob dismissed the idea. “If Anna wasn’t so protective of her chickens, you might make us one of those dishes you named up on deck just now. They sure sounded good.”

  “Those aren’t dishes,” Anna said without turning around. “Those are the names of our chickens. Our new captain named them fair and square.”

  Captain Bob’s face took on a “What can I do?” look. “We leave the chickens and the dinners to her.”

  Anna turned from the stove. “What was that you said up on deck about white bean dip and Republicans?”

  “Oh, I always take white bean dip to family gatherings,” Max explained. “I try to make all my stuck-up relatives fart.”

  The other two captains guffawed, amused by the New Englander’s juvenile humor.

  Anna remained serious. “I’ll ignore that joke. You know, I wasn’t sure what kind of person your family was going to send down here. And I certainly had no idea you were going to come live on this boat…but, you know, anyone who’s respectful enough to give my chickens names has to be okay with me. Yeah, you know, I kind of like you. Maybe all this is going to turn out okay after all.”

  Captains Bob and Jim raised their beers to Max again.

  Then Anna set a freshly brewed coffee in front of him. “Buen provecho,” she said.

  “Wait…” Max smiled. “I know. That’s bon appétit in Spanish.”

  “Muy bien.” Anna laughed. “Very good.”

  Chapter 6

  Despite having a bit of a hangover, Max awoke to rooster crows at dawn the next morning. The insistent noise seemed to wake the other two captains, too. Outside the portholes they could see it was going to be a bright-blue-Caribbean-sky day. He made sure he had his sunglasses for later in the day.

  Anna made good strong Puerto Rican coffee, and she cooked again for breakfast. She had on her RUM T-shirt with its maroon-and-gold school colors and a different color bikini bathing suit bottom from the one she’d had on the day before. On board ship she always went barefoot. Max and the captains wore T-shirts and jean shorts. Max was the only man without a white captain’s cap.

  Anna made them all scrambled eggs from fresh eggs she had gathered from the chickens. She had added a half package of bacon from the fridge and some bread she found in the cupboard and toasted. The cook got compliments from all around.

  Max said, “Maybe I can take a turn and make you all a good New England breakfast with pancakes and good maple syrup.”

  Anna glanced over at the cupboard. “I don’t think we have the syrup here. We get coconuts from the trees around here, not syrup.”

  “Oh, of course,” Max agreed.

  “Soon as we’re out of the harbor, I’ll see if I can catch us something good for lunch, and dinner too,” Captain Jim said. “I won’t worry about using the nets and all. I’ll just cast a line. If the gods are with us, I usually get something good.”

  “Right, the gods.” Max nodded.

  “We get grouper, snapper, mullet, mackerel…” Captain Bob named some of the possibilities.

  “Sounds good.”

  “Yes, good,” Anna said. She set down her coffee mug. “Now we need to catch the tide and get out to sea. I’m sure the fishing fleet’s already gone. Captain Jim, don’t forget to do the dishes before you cast any lines.”

  “Right.” He nodded.

  “And,” Anna added, “I’ll give you some of Max’s fuel money. We’ll stop and fill up on the way out. Captain Jim, you can take care of paying.”

  “Okay.” Captain Jim nodded again.

  Captain Bob looked at Max. “When Anna’s the pilot, she’s the pilot, not our cook, not the one who pays for the fuel or does any other job,” he explained. “This is a shipshape boat. We all know our jobs.”

  “I can see that,” Max said. Then he thought a moment and asked, “I’m new at this, though. What should the captain do?”

  “You sail with me in the wheelhouse,” Anna said, and she got up and led the way.

  Anna had brought a new coffee in a travel mug with a lid, and she quickly tied her hair back and put on sunglasses before taking the helm. Max had had his fill of coffee for the morning. And, despite all he’d drunk the night before, he was feeling much better. He had felt the gentle rock of the boat tied at the dock, but out in the harbor the water looked relatively calm. He was glad of that.

  Once they were settled in the command point of the boat, Max looked over the controls and around the cabin of the wheelhouse with curiosity. “You’ve got a lot more instruments and things here than I remember having on the lobster boat,” he said. “And I sure don’t remember them having Jesus and those other little plastic statues.”

  “We are state-of-the-art and part of the ancient tradition of seafaring all in one,” Anna explained. “My saints and gods have never let me down.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m sure there must be some saints and gods watching over you when you play cards,” Anna added, “whether you know it or not.”

  Max looked at the little statues. He did not want to bring up Captain Bob’s jack of diamonds, but he did think of when he was a musician. “We did have a bass player in the rock band I was drummer for who was into spiritual things. He would light incense out of respect for Saraswati before our concerts. That’s the Hindu goddess who blesses the arts. I never did know what good it did, but he was long gone from the band when we went bankrupt on our European tour.”

  “Yes, mustn’t ever forget the goddesses.” Anna smiled as she started the engine and booted up the instruments. Then she looked directly at Max. “I know you’re now our captain, but
don’t touch anything till I show you what all this is and what it does.”

  “Aye, aye,” Max said, and stopped himself just short of saluting.

  He stepped back and carefully stood a little behind and to the side of Anna so he wouldn’t interfere.

  “Wait.” Anna broke her concentration on her instruments. “I’m the one who’s supposed to say ‘aye, aye’ to you.”

  “Right,” Max replied. “That’s what we said to the captain on the lobster boat, too…but, you know, I’m not really sure that’s the way it should be here.”

  “Why not? You won my father’s boat fair and square.”

  “Let me ask this. Who cleans the chicken poop off the deck?”

  “Oh, that’s Captain Jim’s job,” Anna explained. “He’s vital to our operation, but he’s at the bottom of the chain of command. We’ve never had a first officer before. I guess it’ll be up to you to decide what jobs my father should do.”

  “Right,” Max said again. “There’s three of us on this boat with the title of captain, but I’ve already figured out who really runs this boat.”

  Anna laughed. “Max, I’m getting to understand why your family sent you down here. You are one smart gringo.”

  “Thanks, I think.” Max smiled.

  Anna moved over and opened the door. “Cast off!” she yelled out to Captains Bob and Jim, who had been waiting on deck for her command. Then she maneuvered carefully away from the dock and across the harbor, where they stopped for fuel before speeding up as Anna chased the tide toward the open sea.

  Max sat down on a padded bench that ran the length of the wheelhouse behind where Anna stood at the wheel. He had watched as Captain Jim tied up at the fuel dealer’s dock and hooked up for the fueling process. Despite his age, Captain Jim was quite agile, and he did the whole job as if he were a complete crew. Captain Bob stood by. Max figured that’s what Anna’s father had done when he was the captain of the boat. Although, Max thought, since the chickens were running around quite a bit, maybe his first officer was standing guard lest Fricassée, Coq au Vin, or one of the others might try to make an escape.

  After they cleared the dock from the fueling and gained speed, Max again looked out the door at the deck. Once the boat was seriously under way, the chickens seemed to have settled and were hunkered down in places where they found protection from the wind. Max wondered if it had been like that when his New England ancestors had brought livestock with them from Europe to settle the New World.

  Captain Bob entered the wheelhouse. “I’ve got to use the phone,” he announced. “Captain Max, I am a man of my word. Today, as I promised yesterday when my jack of diamonds let me down, I must call my abogado, my lawyer, and see about transferring the title of my good Señorita Anna to you.”

  “There’s no rush, really,” Max said, but Captain Bob had already picked up the receiver of the ship-to-shore phone and dialed a number.

  Anna smiled again. “We sailors are all men of our word, Captain Max. You can count on that with me too.”

  “Good to know,” Max said.

  Anna returned her concentration to the boat while Captain Bob asked for his lawyer on the phone. Once his abogado came on the phone, Captain Bob spoke in Spanish. It didn’t sound as good as the bits of Spanish Max had heard Anna speak, but it was faster and beyond what Max could understand.

  Captain Bob finished his call and hung up the phone. Then he looked at Max. “Captain Max, it is unfortunate, but my abogado is a very busy man. It may be a while before he has papers for you, but, rest assured, he will have them.”

  “No problem,” Max assured him. “But did he give you any timeframe?”

  “Mañana,” Captain Bob answered with a shrug. “This is the Caribbean. That is what we always say here.”

  “Right.” Max nodded. “I think I understand.”

  “Then I will leave you so Anna can explain all the things you came down here to learn,” Captain Bob said, and he moved toward the wheelhouse door.

  “Daddy, no beer before lunch,” Anna reminded him.

  Captain Bob rolled his eyes and left them.

  “Before you start with the story,” Max said. “I’d better make a call. Can I use the phone?”

  “Of course,” Anna said. “You’re the captain. You’re the one who decides who can use the phone.”

  “Oh, right,” Max said.

  Anna quickly explained the workings of the ship-to-shore phone. Max consulted a business card from his wallet for the number he wanted, and he dialed the phone.

  When Max quickly reached Uncle Henry’s direct office line in Maine, there was an almost immediate, “Hello?”

  “Uncle Henry?”

  “Max!” Uncle Henry exclaimed. “I was worried. The front desk at the Hilton there swore you had checked out.”

  “Yes, I’m not staying at the Hilton. I was waylaid by pirates at the La Salida Bar.”

  “Waylaid by pirates?” the old man asked.

  “Not really. I’m fine. But I’m staying on a tuna boat. It’s my cover. You know, like something they do in the CIA.”

  “Oh…right. That’s very clever…I suppose…”

  Max gave the name of his new boat and the number that was written on the ship-to-shore phone to Uncle Henry. Max judged it wise to leave out the part about having won the Señorita Anna in a poker game. Also he didn’t mention anything about saints, gods, or that he had drawn the two black kings.

  “I met that Señor Cofresí my cousins were talking about,” Max continued. “He’s giving me a personal tour of the tuna plant tomorrow. I think I’ve got a pretty good chance of figuring out what’s going on down here. And maybe pretty quick.”

  “Good!” Uncle Henry said, as if finally that was something he could understand. “We knew you’d be the one who could do it. Let me know as soon as you have something to report.”

  “I will.” Max hung up the phone. “Okay,” he said to Anna. “Now tell me what the hell’s going on.”

  Anna took a deep breath and squinted through her sunglasses at the horizon. There were five boats about the size of the Señorita Anna just in view. “There they are.” She pointed to the boats. Upon closer examination, Max could see they had their nets out, and they appeared to be hard at work trying to catch tuna. “Those are the tuna boats that are under contract to the plant. Señor Cofresí decides who gets a contract. We’ve been included with them from time to time, but not now for a while.”

  Anna opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of binoculars. She gave them to Max. “Here, take a good look at them, and tell me if anything looks strange.”

  Max complied. At first he didn’t see anything special. Then he noticed, “One of the boats doesn’t have its nets out. Does that mean one of them’s not doing any fishing?”

  “Exactly. I’m sure all five boats went out this morning, and I’d bet only four of them will come back tonight. In fact I’d bet, with better odds than in that card game of yours, I think, that during the night that fifth boat is doing some job for Señor Cofresí that he doesn’t want anyone to know about.”

  “You mean he’s got other boats doing special jobs for him just like this special job we are doing for him Thursday night?”

  “Exactly,” Anna said again. “It happens every week or so. I’ve had my eye on them.”

  Max frowned. “So he’s sending out five boats, but only bringing in four boats full of tuna?”

  “On some days, that’s what’s happening. You’d better check those books at the plant on that.”

  “You bet I will.”

  “I wouldn’t wonder so much if he hadn’t also been hiring us for special night trips over the last few months as well.”

  “Oh…?”

  “Yes, but on our trips he comes along. We go out in the dark about as far as we’re out now, and we meet another boat for some kind of meeting between Señor Cofresí and some other men who are definitely from Cuba.”

  “Cuba?” Max exclaimed. “Isn’t doing busi
ness with Cuba illegal?”

  “Yes, it certainly is. Sometimes he goes over to the other boat, and sometimes they come on board the Señorita Anna, but they talk quietly among themselves. We never hear what business they’re talking about, but from what we do hear them say, they have Cuban accents, Cubanos for sure. And Captain Jim sees their registration numbers and stuff when they tie up to us. The boats are from Cuba for sure, too.”

  “So why would Cofresí want to still use our boat…my boat…for his job Thursday now that I’ll be along?” Max asked.

  “I’m sure the fact that you won it was just as much a surprise to him as it was to all of us. I’ve never seen my father bet the boat in a card game or anywhere else before. I think he lost his head for a moment, but I guess he does that sometimes.”

  “Yeah,” Max agreed. “It sure surprised me. But then he insisted I take it.”

  “A man’s honor is a big thing around here. You bet. You lose. You make it good.”

  “Wow, I see. But there are plenty of other boats for Cofresí to hire.”

  “But I’m the only pilot available on short notice, such as for Thursday, who is good enough to easily find his Cuban friends in the dark. At least he’s sure I’m the best one. I don’t think he has any choice but to stay with you…this boat, us, I mean.”

  “Right,” Max said. “He did say it was too late to change things. I remember that now.”

  “I’m sure Señor Cofresí is really upset you won the boat,” Anna added. “I can’t imagine there’s any way he wants you or your family to know he’s secretly meeting with Cubans, no matter what his business might be.”

  “I’m sure you’re right about that.” Max nodded. He thought a minute, then asked, “Do we know what this job is on Thursday?”

  “Oh, yes, I should have told you. We’re going to be out for at least a week, depending on the weather and all. We’re meeting a boat from Cuba and transporting Señor Cofresi’s dead brother’s remains to Key West.”

  “My God,” Max exclaimed.

  “There’s family in Key West. He says his family doesn’t want to deal with all the paperwork and permissions they would need to fly the body to a neutral country and then on to the US.” Anna turned and pointed out the rear windshield of the wheelhouse to the flag that flew over the Señorita Anna. “With that flag of ours and all our papers, he can just pretend the body came from Puerto Rico, so no customs, no hassle, if they even check. Actually it’s a pretty smart idea…except it’s certainly illegal.”