Confederate Gold and Silver

by Peter F. Warren

  “Who was the guy sitting next to Chubby, do you know? He kind of stared at me for a few moments, almost like he was mad at me, and I don’t even know the guy.”

  “Oh, that fat son of a bitch is known as Swamp. To tell you the truth, I don’t even know his real name. He’s a local and a real pain in the ass. He spends most of his days fishing in the Inlet and in some other areas over on the river. He likes to drink and fight with his friends, but I don’t know much more about him. He’s got a big mouth to go with his big belly, but I think he is more talk than anything else. What I do know is when he comes in here, I’m not going to get much of a tip from him cuz he is also a cheap son of a gun as well,” Betty sarcastically sighed.

  As Paul finished his coffee, he made sure he left a fair tip for Betty as he did not want to earn a reputation as a cheap tipper with her. Then he went out to his truck and drove off to get his new toy, the pontoon boat he had dreamed of owning for years.

  ******

  Pulling into the marina, Paul was pleased to see Chubby had pulled the boat out of the water and now had it secured on the trailer in the parking lot. His first impression in seeing the boat was that it did not look like Chubby had put much of an effort into cleaning it as he said he would, but it wasn’t enough to get upset over. “Doesn’t really matter, I’m going to clean it my way anyhow.” He was even more pleased when he saw Steve was there talking to Chubby as they walked around the boat, apparently giving it a final inspection before selling it to him. Getting out of his truck, he could see the two small signs had already been removed from the sides of the boat.

  “Steve, good morning! I wasn’t expecting to see you here this morning,” Paul yelled as he walked to where the boat sat on the trailer.

  “Well, Chubby told me you were fetching the boat, and I have business here in an hour with a boat dealer, so I thought I’d stop to make sure you like what you are buying. I’m glad you decided to buy it. We’ve had great luck with it and I hope the luck continues for you.”

  Paul again thanked Steve for the deal he had offered him on the boat and trailer. Then he told him about the good deal he had gotten on his truck. It was a truck he had recently seen parked on Highway 707 with a red and white plastic ‘For Sale’ sign taped to the front windshield.

  “I’m glad to hear about that. It seems like you are doing OK for yourself as I hear you are also meeting with Willie Tegeler later today to take that part-time job I offered you.”

  “I am,” Paul replied, “I’m seeing him around five this afternoon. I might even play nine holes afterwards just to see part of the golf course. You know, between what you have done for me, and me finding this truck, along with my recent move down here, my dreams are all coming true. Good luck seems to have found me since I moved here. Perhaps I should stop at one of the Kangaroo Express gas stations I see so many of around here and buy a lottery ticket or two.” Steve laughed at his joke, but Chubby nodded his head several times, seriously thinking Paul had a great idea on how to continue his streak of good luck.

  “Steve had me buy a new cooler to replace the one which stunk so badly. I have it in the office for you before you go. Oh, and I also told him when we pulled the boat out of the water yesterday we found a chip in one of the propeller blades, so we replaced that as well. One of the idiots who work for us likely did it when he backed the boat up by the boat ramp one day. No matter, it’s fixed. We even filled the gas tank for you, so you should be good to go.”

  “Steve, you have been too good to me, and I appreciate what Chubby has done as well, at least let me pay you for the propeller and the gas.”

  Shrugging him off, Steve joked that he could not afford the labor rate they charged their customers to replace broken propellers. As they continued to talk, Chubby took the keys to Paul’s truck and backed it up so he could hitch the trailer to the truck. After doing so, Chubby secured the trailer’s safety chains to the truck’s hitch and then plugged in the lights so the trailer’s brake lights could be tested before Paul left. They worked fine. Then Chubby went and fetched the new cooler he had picked up at Costco.

  As they talked some more in the parking lot, Steve recommended to Paul that he should consider buying a marine radio and a compass; both of which he suggested could easily be mounted on the boat’s dashboard. “Storms sometimes come up quick out on the river. Not knowing the river too well, you will be glad you have them if you get in a jam. With all of the bends and turns in the river it is easy to get lost, especially when the weather is lousy.” Steve’s recommendations were well taken and Paul thanked him for his good ideas. “We also called the Department of Natural Resources about the sale of the boat and gave them all of your information. They will mail you your new registration when they send you your two tax bills, one each for the boat and for the motor. You should have them in the next couple of weeks.

  Wrapping up the sale of the boat, Paul and Steve agreed to meet the following Friday night with Donna at The Grumpy Sailor for dinner. Waving a quick goodbye to Chubby, Paul shook hands with Steve and then drove out of the marina with his pontoon boat safely secured to the rear of his pick-up truck. He was in his glory. As he turned onto the local section of Highway 17 in Murrells Inlet, Paul started thinking perhaps he should play it safe and buy the lottery tickets he had joked about. He stopped at the first Kangaroo Express gas station he came to and purchased four South Carolina Education lottery tickets. He felt foolish doing so, but deciding he should not close the door on Lady Luck, he purchased the tickets, along with a Coke, just in case his good fortune continued.

  After leaving the Kangaroo Express, Paul’s next stop was at The King’s Highway Car Wash, in Murrells Inlet. Almost fanatical about his cars always being kept clean and running well; his pontoon boat would be no different. He spent the better part of the next hour feeding quarters into the meter at the self-service car wash so he could use the high pressure water hose to wash off the combination of salt, algae, and mud stains which had accumulated primarily on the boat’s transoms. He also took the time to do the same across the entire boat, even taking the time to unfold the boat’s canopy to get rid of some mold which was starting to grow on the canvass top. Between the high pressure hose, some soap and bleach, and some elbow grease which he applied with a steel brush and with a large sponge, the boat soon looked far better than it had two hours ago.

  Not planning on mooring the boat immediately at any of the nearby marinas along the Waccamaw River, Paul wanted to first explore the numerous inlets and rivers around Georgetown and Horry counties before he gave any thought of keeping it at one location. With the driveway of his house already crowded with their two cars, and with his recent addition of a pickup truck, he rented space for the boat at a nearby storage facility. The storage facility sat between Highway 17 and McDowell Shortcut Road in the Inlet. Shapiro’s Indoor and Outdoor Storage had space available for the boat and trailer underneath their covered canopy. The large open air storage space, which had a heavy duty corrugated metal canopy, had been built for people who wanted their boats and recreational vehicles stored there. The canopy had been built to house twelve vehicles or boats underneath it. Currently it protected a combination of eight boats and campers, and one large recreational vehicle, from the sun and other elements. Shapiro’s had surveillance cameras mounted around the storage facility and the secured parking lot. He was pleased to have been assigned his own electronic pass code for 24 hour access to the facility. After thoroughly cleaning the boat, Paul towed it to Shapiro’s and parked it in his designated spot under the canopy. The owner of the storage facility, Ed Shapiro, a retired cop from Clinton, New Jersey, had given him a special ‘cops’ discount when he had signed the six month rental agreement.

  After parking the boat and trailer under the canopy, Paul drove up to Bonner’s Discount Carpet located on Highway 17 in Murrells Inlet. There he picked up a large roll of indoor/outdoor carpet so he could replace th
e boat’s torn and ripped deck carpeting. The same carpeting Chubby had bragged about having his romantic adventures on. Just the thought of those occasions occurring was enough of a reason to replace the old carpeting. Over the course of the next two days, the old carpeting was ripped up and replaced with the nice new green colored carpeting.

  After he finished that chore, Paul took the stencils he had purchased at a nearby arts and crafts store and taped them to the side walls of the pontoon boat. Carefully he painted ‘Donna Lynn’ in navy blue lettering on each side wall. For letting him fulfill his dream of moving to South Carolina, he figured the least he could do was to name his boat after his wife. Finishing up his stenciling job, he gathered up his tools and prepared to head home. He had to meet Willie at The Links later in the afternoon and he had just enough time to get home to get cleaned up. Before leaving the storage facility, he again took a moment to take a look at the ‘Donna Lynn’ he had painted on the boat’s side walls. He couldn’t wait to take Donna out on the Waccamaw River.

  Just before 5 pm Paul arrived in Pawleys Island to meet with Willie Tegeler, the PGA Golf Professional at The Links Golf Club. Steve had previously told him The Links sat alongside the Waccamaw River and had been built on the site of a former rice plantation. As he drove down the long driveway towards the clubhouse, a driveway which ran between the perfectly manicured first and tenth fairways, it was easy to see why the golf course was so highly rated as a great golf facility. Even while driving down the driveway it was easy to see how lush the fairways were. The myriad of colorful flowers in several different flower beds gave the impression they were as well maintained as the fairways were. The Spanish moss hanging from the large Southern Live Oak trees, which lined the length of the mile long driveway, gave Paul the impression he was visiting a special place. The view of the golf course was spectacular.

  Parking his car in the parking lot near the Pro Shop, Paul walked inside to meet Willie. As he entered the clubhouse, Willie Tegeler, fairly tall and slender in his stature, was just coming down the hallway from the clubhouse’s Bogie Free Grill Room when he saw Paul. “If you’re Paul Waring, you’re looking for me, I’m Willie,” extending his right hand to shake hands with Paul. “Thanks for coming in to see me. Steve told me how you helped him with the flat tire the other day and also told me about your recent move down here. He also told me he wanted to repay you for your help by giving you a part-time job so you could play some free golf at our great course. So if the boss says to make it happen, let’s do it. Come to think of it, Steve even told me he sold you an old boat. Boy, you two must have really hit it off.”

  Paul started by thanking Willie for his time and then acknowledged the points he had brought up. “Yeah, I guess by performing a simple act of kindness you can say I have made a new friend, someone you can also say who is very generous. I still cannot believe the luck I have had.”

  Walking outside, they climbed into Willie’s Club Car golf cart. The golf cart had ‘PGA Professional’ neatly painted across the front of it. Above the Club Car logo, Willie’s name had been nicely stenciled in dark blue lettering. The golf cart was the nicest one Paul had ever seen. Driving towards the course’s practice area, Willie gave him a quick tour of the facility. As they toured the scenic golf course, he told Paul his job was going to be as a ranger on the course, making sure the golfers moved along in a timely manner so play did not get backed up. As they drove along the beautiful 18th closing hole, Willie explained the job only paid ten dollars an hour, but golf was free, as was the use of the facilities. Paul was surprised to learn the facilities included a private boat launch on the property. Willie then described how the waters around the boat launch had been manmade. Priding himself in learning all there was to know about the property’s previous use as a rice plantation in the mid-1800’s, Willie further described how the waterway had been first used for various needs in the old rice fields. “In fact, take a moment to visit the large meeting room we have on the second floor of the clubhouse before you leave. Steve commissioned an artist to paint the walls with a rendition of what the property looked like when it was an actual rice plantation. They used some really old photos, as well as a few descriptions they found in some old letters, to recreate what the property would have looked liked back then. It’s a great painting.”

  “I’d like to see that. I’ll make sure I take a look at it.” Paul could not get over how beautiful the facility was and how pretty the marsh grass looked where it was growing in the waters where the rice had been grown many years ago.

  “Well, if you are good with what we’ve discussed, I guess I will see you on Tuesday morning. Be here around 7 a.m. and we will get you started with your retirement job. One thing about this job, besides the great golf, you will soon realize you have friends you never knew about as once your neighbors find out you work here they will want to be your new best buds.”

  Paul laughed at the remark as he thanked Willie for the tour.

  “Free golf, working outside driving around in a golf cart a few hours each week, and being able to use the private boat launch, not too bad,” Paul thought on the drive back home, “the perks alone are worth the job.”

  ******

  The next morning Paul was up early. He started the day by sitting at his kitchen table reading the paper from the day before as he ate his breakfast. Far too busy the previous day from picking up his new boat, cleaning it, and then meeting with Willie, he had not found time to read it before now.

  He had also taken Donna out for dinner and afterwards had taken her to Shapiro’s to see the boat for the first time. She was a little disappointed in its condition at first, but when he told her about what he still had planned to repair on the boat, she had warmed up to it more. Paul had left the sides of the boat covered up when he had left to meet with Willie. When he pulled the tarps off the two areas where he had stenciled ‘Donna Lynn’, Donna got a kick out of the gesture he had done for her. She had giggled as she asked him a question after seeing her name painted on the boat. “Does this mean we can stop and buy those silly boat captain hats I have seen at all of those tourist trap stores in Myrtle Beach?” Paul had laughed with her when she saw her name on the boat, and laughed even harder about her hat idea, but he had quickly assured her the captain hats were definitely out of the question.

  After a quick morning read of the paper, Paul drove the short distance to Shapiro’s. After hitching the boat to his truck, he headed down the By-Pass section of Highway 17 to Wacca Wache Landing, located off of Wachesaw Road in Murrells Inlet. The boat launch was an easy fifteen minute drive from the storage facility. Once there, he slowly backed the trailer down one of the two ramps at the boat launch. It was one of several small boat launches along the river that the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources maintained for the public’s use. Adjacent to the boat launch was a small private marina and a restaurant.

  Nervous about backing the trailer into the water for the first time, Paul was greatly relieved when he saw no one else was using the boat launch when he arrived. He was even more relieved when he saw that none of the nearby marina’s employees were standing on the dock watching him back the boat down the wet ramp. Backing up a truck with a trailer attached to it was not the easiest task for anyone to accomplish and he was pleased to see he did not have to do so in front of an audience.

  It took Paul three attempts to back the trailer down the wet ramp, but on his third attempt he succeeded. He backed just far enough into the water so he could unload the boat from the trailer. As he exited his truck, proud of his accomplishment of backing the trailer into the water without an incident occurring, he slipped on the wet concrete ramp and landed on his butt in ankle deep water. Standing up, his bathing suit now soaking wet, he quickly looked around to make sure no one had seen him slip. Embarrassed, but smiling to himself, he had but one thought. “That was rather graceful!”

  In took him only a few minutes to
unfasten the straps that held the boat to the trailer. Then he slowly let the rope out from the trailer’s winch and allowed the boat to float free of the trailer. Grabbing the rope tied to the bow, Paul tied the boat to the nearby dock so he could pull the trailer out of the water. In a matter of moments he had the truck and trailer parked in the nearby parking lot. “So far, so good!” He was relieved his first trip to the boat launch had gone fairly well.

  Paul returned to the boat carrying a plastic bag containing a few bottles of water, a couple of Cokes, and some snacks. In his other hand he carried a large bag of ice. The day’s warm temperature was causing the bag of ice to already start melting. Climbing onto the boat, he placed the drinks and ice inside his new Igloo cooler.

  Starting the engine up for the first time, Paul sat listening as it hummed very quietly. “It sounds as good as Chubby said it would.” Untying the rope, he pushed away from the dock and slowly steered the boat out of the small boat launch area, heading southwest on the Waccamaw River towards Georgetown. Paul could not have been happier. As he slowly motored down the river, he had another thought. “Now I can cross this off of my Bucket List of things to do.”

  Heading down the Waccamaw River, which he knew was part of the Inter-Coastal Waterway running along the Atlantic seaboard, he passed several small inlets and rivers running off in many different directions from the main part of the river. “I’m going to have plenty of time to explore those areas to see where they come out. I wonder if they lead to another part of the river or if they just kind of peter out?” With these thoughts he then realized he needed to buy a detailed map of the river to keep on the boat so he could explore those areas and to have in the event of an emergency. “I better get an emergency kit as well and stow it along with the map in one of the storage seats.” Paul started to make a mental list of things he needed to acquire for the boat.