Just a Happy Camper

by Jinx Schwartz

  “Nacho, I thought I’d never say this, but I’m really glad to see you. By the way, this is my son, Antoine.”

  Nacho almost dropped me in surprise. “I think, Hetta, this calls for an explanation.”

  “It certainly does, you pirate! Now put me down so I can board my boat properly.”

  Which, as it turned out, was way over my capabilities. My arms were so numb there was no way I could hoist myself up the ladder, so the men shoved and pulled me onto the deck, which I kissed. Jeff was waiting at the top of the ladder and half-dragged me inside. I didn’t even gripe about salt-water dripping on my carpet.

  I headed straight for my cabin, showered off, and put on clean clothes from my locker while Antoine radioed Roger that we were safely onboard. Jan and Jackie B arrived (much more elegantly than I had, or so they claimed) and also took showers and raided my dry clothes stash.

  By the time Antoine emerged from the guest shower dressed in Nacho’s clothes, Jan, Jackie B, and I were huddled in the main salon drinking hot chocolate from sippy cups. Through the miracle of a mid-ships designed kitchen and a microwave, Nacho managed to make a carafe. The hot brew was missing something, like, say, brandy. Nacho insisted alcohol was verboten until this mess was settled.

  Raymond Johnson was nowhere near steady, and moving around inside was hazardous. When we reached the end of each arc, the waves we created in our fast swing hit us broadside during the back-swing. However, compared to that kayak? No contest.

  Nacho answered a two-way radio call from Roger, who gave us the latest report from our lookout on the hill, Craig. The narco hummer had turned around and gone back to camp, and there was a beehive of activity there.

  “So, Roger thinks they’re going to move the guns tonight?”

  “Yes,” Nacho said, “and now that we know about the submarine, this changes everything. We thought to let them load the guns, commandeer the transport boat, then scuttle it in deep water.”

  Jan smirked. “The two of you were going to take on an entire crew of gun smugglers, just like that?”

  “I never said it was going to be done nicely. And now there are six of us to ‘take on an entire crew of smugglers, just like that.’”

  “Yabbut, now we’re talking about a submarine. How are they going to transport the guns from the caravan? Trained dolphins?”

  “Good question, Jan,” I said.

  Antoine said, “Jenks and Roger are trying to identify the make and specifications of the submarine from the video.”

  “Maybe one of them will figure it out,” Nacho said. “I have seen crude models fabricated from propane tanks, but they were incapable of sitting on the bottom as you say this one is.”

  “Whale!” I yelled.

  Everyone looked towards a window, but all the drapes were drawn.

  “Where?” Antoine asked.

  “Remember when the drone caught a shadow and we thought it was a whale? Chino got all excited until Roger burst his bubble and told him it was a submarine.”

  “Yeah,” Jan said, “nothing gets Chino more excited than a whale.”

  Antoine gave Jan an admiring look. “Then he is a fool.”

  Jan flounced her hair and smiled.

  “Antoine, just keep in mind that she’s your Aunt Jan, ” I chided. “Anyway, when Jean Luc and I were on the beach, just before that frogman appeared, we thought we saw a whale on the surface, but I’ll bet it was that sub.”

  Nacho looked confused. “Jean Luc is here?”

  Antoine answered, “Yes, he is my father. You know him?”

  “Yes, I do, but…never mind. I am getting a slight headache, but we will discuss this puzzling situation later. Right now, let me call Roger to discuss this submarine. If, as you say, they surfaced, then there had to be a reason. Perhaps they are not completely self-contained.”

  “The narco caravan might have an inflatable with them. Tell Roger to ask Craig if he can spot one in their camp,” I said, as I grabbed the hot chocolate carafe. “Meanwhile, Jan and Jackie B, please stagger with me back to my cabin. I have to check on my pickup.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Jan, Jackie B, and I sat on my bed and sipped our Captain Morgan-laced cocoa. I keep a bottle in my cabin for emergencies, such as this one when Nacho locks up the liquor cabinet. As the boat swung dizzily on her anchor, the aft cabin wasn’t the most stable place on the boat, but it was the safest if we hunkered down on my memory foam mattress.

  “What a night, huh?” Jackie B said with a sigh. “Man, I can’t wait until I tell Gypsy about it. She’ll be so damned jealous. After all, she was the first one who spotted this boat headed north. Who knew it was stolen?”

  “You know how they are in Chivato. Everyone would have tried to stop the boat and we wouldn’t be having this lovely vacation by the sea. I’m sorry things have gotten this out of hand. We wouldn’t blame you if you took a kayak and paddled to the beach, you know.”

  “Are you kidding me? This is the most excitement I’ve had in a dog’s age.”

  “It’s about to turn dangerous. There may be gunfire,” Jan warned her.

  “Oh, goody.”

  I took a last sip of cocoa and said, “Well I, for one, am going back upstairs, get on my satellite system and call Jenks. We now have full internet access, and if nothing else, he’ll know where we sank.”

  ❋

  Nacho viewed us with suspicion and sniffed the air when we returned to the main salon, giggling like teenyboppers. I returned his disapproving look and said, “My boat. My rules.”

  He just shook his head and sighed. Then he watched as I made my way to my desk, flipped some switches, and raised Jenks on Facetime.

  “You’re on Raymond Johnson?” Jenks asked, his surprise and a soupçon of disapproval evident.

  “Yep. Have you talked to Roger lately?” I said, hoping to divert his attention from my latest escapade.

  “No. Last I heard, you were all on shore waiting for something to happen. Evidently, it did.”

  “Oh, it surely did,” Jan said over my shoulder. “We had quite a wild kayak ride out here. Wind is blowing stink.”

  “So, Hetta, you were in a kayak, at night, in a wind storm?”

  “Not alone. Antoine paddled.”

  He shook his head in dismay. “I knew you should have stayed in Texas. Oh, well, it’s a done deal. What’s next, I’m afraid to ask?”

  “That’s why I’m calling. You got any ideas on how to steal a submarine? Didn’t you fly something called a sub-chaser in the Navy?”

  “I flew P-3’s alright, but we just located them.”

  “And then what?”

  “We alerted a ship and they depth charged ’em.”

  “Dang, and us flat out of depth charges. Just thought I’d ask.”

  “Hetta, have you been drinking? You are much too…calm.”

  Jan drawled, “Of course not, silly. She’s just checked on her pickup a couple of times.”

  Jenks grinned. He’d been to my parents’ house and escaped Aunt Lillian along with Dad by checking on the truck. “Tell Nacho to call me, okay? Now that we have full communication, I’d like to talk to him. Love you, and stay safe.”

  “Love you back.”

  I hung up and smiled. “That went better than expected.”

  Jan gave me an under-her-brow look. “Glad you think so. I think Jenks has just gotten used to you not listening to what he says. That might not bode well for your future, Miz Hetta. Men do not like being deemed superfluous or taken for granted.”

  “Says she, who used to go through men like I go through carrot cake.”

  “Maybe I learned something.”

  “Oh, yeah, well maybe you—”

  Nacho yelled as he clambered down the stairs, “They’re on the move! Roger thinks they want to unload before dawn, between tides.”

  “Well, hell. I’m out of bright ideas. Bad as I hate saying this, Nacho, do you have any?” I asked.

  Nacho looked pleased, but knew better than
to smart off.

  Turning to Jan he asked, “Do you mind going up on the flying bridge and watching the beach. Take these,” he handed her a pair of powerful binoculars with night vision.

  “On it,” she said, pulling on sweats and a hoodie from a locker.

  “Hetta, please go aft and watch the surface for the sub.”

  “Sure, he can’t move too far toward the beach without surfacing. It’s shoaling up pretty good even since we left camp.”

  “Jeff, monitor the radar. Let Hetta know if anything changes so she can get a visual.”

  Jeff gave him a thumbs-up.

  “Jackie B, stay here with me and listen to the VHF and two-way radios, because I’m killing the generator and we might have sketchy cell service out here.”

  Jackie B didn’t look at all displeased to be stuck inside with Nacho.

  “What do I do?” Antoine asked.

  “I’m saving you for when we need a young strong guy. Meanwhile, can you cook?”

  “Of course. I am French.”

  “We need easy-to-eat food, as we might have to get underway and it’s going to get rough out there. Fill the thermoses with coffee. Raid Hetta’s food locker, find what you can.”

  “Hey, I heard that,” I yelled from the after deck. “Stay out of my chocolate.”

  The two-way sprang to life. “Craig here. They are caravanning straight for the beach.”

  Roger who had moved closer to the action said, “Yes, the first guys are there. They’ve cordoned off the beach to make certain no one stumbles onto the operation.”

  Jan keyed her two-way and we all heard, “I see them. They’re backing the trailer onto the beach, but they’ve hit a snag. The narco mobile is bogging down.”

  Roger answered. “Everyone stand by. All eyes out for that submarine.”

  I had my binoculars trained on where I thought the sub was, but we had no way of knowing whether it had moved since the drone caught it on video, and no way to know if it was on the move now. I drew an imaginary line from where it was to the beach, then watched for activity along that line.

  Unfortunately, the lights from the two of the trawlers messed with our vision. Jan was unable to use her night vision except directly at the beach, and I was getting misleading sparkles on the surface.

  Nacho joined me on the aft deck. “Any luck?”

  “Nah, too much ambient light. But I have an idea.”

  “I should say something like, uh-oh, but right now we need any ideas, never mind how ridiculous.”

  “Wise ass. I think you’ll like this one. Take over here and I’ll be right back.”

  I rushed to a locker and rummaged around for something I hoped I still had, and that it was charged up. I found it, turned it on and got nada. Crap.

  Sprinting (in my mind) to the galley, I found a screwdriver, opened it up, saw I required a D battery. Opening a drawer, I yelled, “Yes!” Jenks and I try to keep a supply of just about every kind of battery known to exist, but one never knows for sure.

  “Antoine,” I asked, “you up for a little more kayaking tonight.”

  He didn’t even hesitate. “Of course.”

  “Then get suited up and I’ll have this,” I showed him the portable fish finder, “ready in no time.”

  ❋

  Once we all agreed Antoine’s mission was a good idea, I gave him a few lessons on how to read the screen by showing him one of the large-model fish finder/depth sounders on Raymond Johnson.

  Before stuffing the handheld fish finder and one of our two-way radios into a waterproof bag, I told him, “This portable is nowhere nearly as good as the boat’s, but I’ve used it many times in the dinghy when entering an unknown anchorage. We’ll make a quick test over the side before you leave.”

  He gave it a try and saw what I told him were indications of smooth sand and scattered shells, with an occasional small fish darting across the screen. “Trust me, you won’t miss anything the size of that sub. We’ll need you to tell us how deep you think the submarine is, and if it starts moving, which direction. I’d go with you, but we both know that I’d just be in the way. Besides, Jenks would kill me.”

  Jan, who’d come inside to get out of the biting wind for a minute heard me and waved her arms in the air. “Good Lawd a’mighty, she can learn. However, I do think one of us should go with Antoine. He’s going to have a battle on his hands just to keep from being blown out to sea, much less watching the sounder screen and manning the radio.”

  “I’ll go,” Jeff said. “I’m a strong paddler. Just let me suit up.”

  “Take a weapon” Nacho said. “And do not hesitate to use it.”

  “Well, crap. If I’d a known that I’d a gone,” I said. “After all the trouble these jerks have put us through, my trigger finger has a serious case of the itches.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I went back up on the flying bridge with Jan and watched Antoine and Jeff head out into the ugly night. We’d put the sub’s last known coordinates into Antoine’s GPS App on his phone, so they were paddling directly for them.

  “Damn those trawlers,” I said as they disappeared behind one.

  “We could shoot out their lights,” Jan suggested.

  “I don’t think Nacho will go along with that.”

  “Since when did everyone die and leave Nacho boss?”

  I had to laugh. “You know, I have no idea. Want me to take over?”

  “Hell no. But if you did, what would you do?”

  “I’d start my engines and head for La Paz, that’s what.”

  “Why don’t we?”

  “Cuz Nacho will shoot us?”

  We were laughing when Jan choked out, “Those idiots on the beach have buried the narco-mobile up to the door, and still trying to spin their wheels.”

  “Good, the incoming tide will put them ten feet under. Ooh, ooh, I think Antoine and Jeff have spotted something. They’re circling.”

  Antoine said, in French, “It is below us, but they are rising!”

  “Get out of there!” Roger yelled into the two-way.

  “We will try—” the radio went dead.

  There was a sudden commotion around the kayak, and then both Jeff and Antoine seemed to disappear over the side, and the unmanned kayak looked to be sailing out to sea.

  We didn’t hesitate. Jan and I ran for the other kayak, jumped in, and set off.

  The problem was, we had different ideas about where to.

  After paddling in circles for a few minutes, we ended up behind a trawler, protected from the wind. “Jan, we need to catch that kayak!”

  “Forget it, Chica. Even if we snag it, we’d never be able to get back until the tide turns, and then we’d get caught in the turbulence and sink.”

  “But what if Jeff and Antoine are maybe wounded and slumped inside or something?”

  “Use your noggin. You can’t swim worth a damn and it won’t help anyone if you drown. Besides, there’s a good chance they’re in the water, so we need to find them.”

  “Did you bring your two-way?”

  “In my jacket pouch.”

  “Tell everyone what happened and where we are.”

  By the time Jan brought everyone up to date, my momentary adrenaline spike wore off and cold reality settled over me like a soggy black cloud. “Oh, hell, Jan! I’m in a kayak in the middle of a windstorm and I don’t have my fins!”

  “No shite, Sherlock.”

  “Foreign cuss words count, you know.”

  “So sue me.”

  ❋

  After searching the area as best we could, we finally gave up, unable to battle the elements any longer, and returned to Raymond Johnson.

  Nacho and Jackie B were waiting on the aft when we returned, making for a much smoother boarding than last time.

  Once we were back inside, Nacho whirled on us and roared, “Have you two lost your minds?”

  “Yeah, Hetta,” Jackie B said. “You guys were gone, and we thought you’d fallen overboar
d until we saw the kayak was missing. What were you thinking?”

  “To save Jeff and Antoine? Anything new since we left?”

  “Nothing. Nothing has changed. The narcos are struggling with the trailer now. They’ve given up on the big vehicle.”

  Roger called on the radio. “Hang on guys, the tide is coming in, fast!”

  “Well, damn,” I groused. “Raymond Johnson will turn broadside to the waves, caught between the incoming tide and outgoing wind. A boater’s nightmare. And we don’t dare deploy a stern hook in this weather.”

  “Certainly not with a kayak,” Jan added.

  “Nacho, just how much chain did you put out?”

  “All of it.”

  “What? Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “No, I thought it safer.”

  Despite the wind, I clipped myself to a rail and made my way to the bow, which was pitching like an unhappy bronc.

  Jan followed. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Can you hold on here and guide me? We’ve got to bring in a bunch of scope or we’ll end up on the beach. Nacho’s put out three hundred and fifty feet of chain!”

  I started the engines and went up to the bridge while Jackie B and Nacho stowed anything on the boat that would move.

  Since any attempt at stealth was deader’n chivalry, I lit the deck up with the spotlight so I could watch Jan’s hand signals. I immediately saw the chain was stretched out straight. Not a good thing. If Nacho was going to keep stealing my boat, I’d have to teach him a few things about the art of anchoring.

  I motored slowly forward while bringing in chain via a remote foot-switch on the bridge. I wanted to leave some slack on, but it was going to be difficult in the blow.

  When I went to neutral, the wind blew us back so fast Jan was thrown to the slippery deck, but she was tethered, so not in danger of going overboard.

  She gave me a thumbs up to show she was all right, and once I was certain she had a good grip on the rail again, I moved us forward. We were going to get way too close to the beach for my druthers before I could pick up the anchor and then re-anchor in the turbulent water.