“You go to these places often?” he asked.
“All over the globe,” I said. “Primarily here in the Caribbean, but Ambrosia has been to the Pacific and Indian Oceans as well.”
Marcos sat up straight in his seat. “Capitan, I would like to… How you say? Solicitar?”
“Apply?”
“Si, Capitan Jesse. I would like to apply for a job.”
“What about your wife and family?”
“Mayra will do what I do,” he said. “We don’t need much.”
“And your children?”
He thought for a moment, rubbing his chin. “We will go to America sometimes as well?’
“It’s where my home is,” I said. “Savannah and I live in the Florida Keys.”
“I am a hard worker,” he said. “And very loyal. So too are my children and Ricardo. I would like to feed your crew good meals and I will stay as long as you will have me.”
“I’ll accept your offer on one condition,” I said, leaning forward.
“What is that?”
“You discuss it with your wife and family first. Your daughters and Ricardo might not like the idea, and how will you handle it if they go on to America?”
“I will,” he replied. “I think I can convince them.”
The rest of the day went by slowly. With fewer and fewer sonar contacts, it became monotonous. Ocean crossings were long and boring for the most part. But usually, there was an objective, a place you were going to. We had no destination. Our mission was to listen and identify.
At noon, Val handed me the Metis. “Message for you.”
It was an email from Charity. All arrived safely and checked into the resort on Grenada for the night. See you in the morning.
The next day, once Flo and the others were aboard, we’d continue east until we reached Trinidad and Tobago, the southernmost group of islands in the Lesser Antilles. Then we’d turn southeast, following the coasts of Guyana, Suriname, French Guiana, then on to the eastern tip of Brazil, where we’d turn around. The run from Trini to the turnaround, with family and friends aboard, would take us a little over four days, and we’d find even fewer contacts along that more desolate stretch of coast. Then another four to five days back to the Antilles, where Flo and the others would return to Grenada.
Just before the tip of Brazil was a place called Lençóis Maranhenses National Park, or Parque Nacional dos Lençóis Maranhenses, in Portuguese. Lençóis meant linen in English, and Maranhenses meant it was in Brazil’s state of Maranhão.
The park was a vast area of sand dunes, stretching over forty miles along the coast and up to thirty miles inland. The sand was carried to the coast from the continent’s interior by two rivers, the Parnaíba and Preguiças. There, the sand was pushed up onto shore by long, almost perpendicular wave action into a high dune. Wind then carried it inland, creating more dunes and valleys. Some of the dunes rose as high as 130 feet.
From what I’d read, it looked like a desert, but got more rainfall, sometimes creating freshwater pools up to ten feet deep in the hundreds of little valleys between the dunes.
I’d planned to give the crew a couple of days rest there, allowing them to go ashore, explore, sleep, and just unwind. It wasn’t exactly permissible without first clearing into the country, but the place was so remote, we’d be long gone before anyone raised a fuss.
Finally, Matt relieved me at 1800, and I went to my cabin, where Savannah was already making dinner.
“Long day?” she asked, as I tossed my cover on the table.
“Boring day,” I replied, putting my arms around her from behind and kissing her neck. “And tomorrow will be even more so.”
“But we’ll have Flo and the others aboard.”
“I’ll still be on the bridge,” I reminded her. “At least until we get to the dunes.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing them,” she said. “Are they as impressive as they sound?”
“I’ve never actually been there myself,” I replied. “I’ve only read about them. So, a first for both of us. Where’s Alberto?”
“He and Fernando took the dogs for a walk,” she replied. “Did you talk to Marcos?”
“I did,” I replied. “He promised to talk to Mayra and their kids before giving me his final decision.”
“I hope you didn’t make him feel like you were being charitable.”
I grinned. “I can be sneaky and underhanded when I need to. It was actually his idea.”
“That’s good, because—” A knock on the hatch interrupted her. “I wonder who that is?”
I went to the hatch and opened it.
“Hola, Capitan,” Marcos said. “I was about to go to the kitchen to help Grady with the evening meals.”
“Please, come in,” I said. “What’s on your mind?”
“I can only stay a moment,” he said, entering our quarters. He nodded at Savannah, twisting his chef’s hat in his hands. “Buenos dias, Señora.”
“Que bueno verte, Marcos,” Savannah said.
He smiled at her, then turned to me. “I spoke with my family, Capitan. If you will have us, we would like to work aboard this barco magnifico for as long as you find use for our labor.”
“That’s good news, Marcos,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll let the owner know we have a full crew once more. He will be very pleased. Graçias.”
Marcos left us and Savannah took my hands. “You do have your moments, my captain.”
“What’s for dinner?” I asked, looking over her shoulder.
“Food,” she replied. “Now pour us both a sundowner and I’ll bring our plates out to the terrace in a minute. The boys should be back soon.”
Opening the little mini fridge in the bar, I found a pitcher of some sort of frozen concoction. It was kind of greenish-yellow, and I could instantly smell the mango and coconut. Savannah was quite the mixologist, always trying new drink recipes.
I filled a pair of Collins glasses, adding a straw to hers, and carried them outside just as Alberto and Fernando entered, the dogs right behind them.
“We were up on the bow with Miss Val,” Alberto said, removing his compact life vest and hanging it in the wet locker on the terrace. “We saw a whole bunch of dolphins. Thousands of them! They raced in front of the boat for a while, then swam away.”
I sat down in one of the deck chairs and waved a hand at the boys to join me. “What kind were they?”
“I don’t know,” Alberto said, pulling a chair out. “They were smaller than the ones I’ve seen before. But real fast. And they jumped completely out of the water.”
“What did they look like?” I asked, grabbing my personal Metis tablet. “Can you describe them?”
“Well, they were small, like I said. And they had kind of yellowish or tan sides that went back under their tails. I know because sometimes they’d do flips, and I could see their bellies.”
“Did they have a longer nose than the bottlenose dolphins you’re used to seeing?”
“I think so,” he replied. “What are they called?”
“Sounds like the long-beaked common dolphin,” I replied, scrolling through a list of dolphins I’d pulled up on my Metis. I found the right picture and turned it around to show the boys. “Like this?”
“Si,” Fernando said, enthusiastically. “That is it.”
“They’re usually found in shallower water nearer shore,” I said.
Alberto turned to Fernando. “Mi papá dice que por lo general se encuentran en aguas menos profundas cerca de la costa,” he told him, translating what I’d said.
I only caught a few of his words, but the word papá resonated in my mind. Alberto had called me his dad.
“It’s not shallow here,” Alberto said. “Mr. Ross said it’s over a thousand feet deep.”
I pointed off to starboard. “We’re just a few miles off the continental shelf. There, it’s only a couple hundred feet deep. M
aybe they heard us and came out to play.”
Savannah slid the door open with her bare foot, carrying a plate in each hand.
The dogs looked up expectantly.
“I’ll get the others,” I said, starting to rise.
She pushed me back down, both hands on my shoulders. “You just sit tight. I’m already a step ahead of you.” She placed one in front of each of the boys, then turned to go back in. “I’ll have ours in just a sec.”
When she returned, we ate our fish sandwiches as the sun slowly slid toward the horizon. As it disappeared, I noticed that Fernando closed his eyes for a moment, his mouth moving silently, just as his grandfather had done.
“What is that you do, Fernando?” I asked. “Just as the sun set.”
“Qué?”
“Closing your eyes,” I said.
He looked at each of us in turn. “It is custom with my people,” he replied. “In case of the…destello de verde. We wish for good luck.”
The green flash was a rare phenomenon at sunset. When atmospheric conditions were exactly right and the sea state was calm, if a person looked closely, they might see a faint flash of green light just as the sun disappeared over the horizon. I’d only seen it a few times in my life, though I made it a habit to watch the sunset as often as I could.
“We have the same custom,” I told Fernando. “We make a wish at sunset and if we see the green flash, it’s supposed to come true.”
“I have never seen it,” Fernando said. “Mi abuelo tiene.”
“Keep looking for it,” I said with a smile. “One day you can tell your grandfather that you have seen the destello de verde as well.”
After the dishes were done, the boys went to play in Alberto’s cabin, and Savannah and I went out to the foredeck. At night, the lights on the foredeck were extinguished and those from the bridge created nothing more than a dim, red glow. So, the foredeck was in complete darkness. Even the moon was invisible, obscured by the ship itself as it followed the sun toward the western horizon behind us. Stars provided the only light on the foredeck, but it was more than enough to see by. And the water all around us was illuminated by the moon.
There were a few others on the foredeck. Marcos’s oldest two daughters, Giselle and Kassandra, sat with Val and Axel, staring up at the night sky.
“Please join us,” Val said, when she noticed us.
The four of them were sitting on a wide deck cushion, their backs against the raised superstructure of the forward part of the main deck.
“Thank you,” Savannah said, taking a seat next to the youngest, dark-haired Venezuelan beauty.
I sat next to her, and we held hands as we gazed up at the dazzling display. Words weren’t needed. Everyone there sat just as I did, their heads tilted heavenward and eyes wide open. Some were even slack- jawed in amazement. It was nightly entertainment for most of the crew.
Even on my island, which was miles from the lights of Big Pine Key and Marathon, the glow could be seen from the two towns and even from Miami, far to the east. The light pollution diminished the number of stars you could see from there.
But out on the ocean, a hundred miles from any man-made light source, the stars shone in full brilliance, all the way down to the horizon.
“I never get tired of looking at the stars from a boat at sea,” Savannah said softly.
“I have never seen so many,” Kassandra acknowledged, her voice low, almost reverent.
“It’s one of the main reasons I stay on,” Axel said. “I look forward to coming out here to watch the stars when I’m not on duty. And they’re a bit of a distraction when I’m on the bridge at night.”
“It’s beautiful,” Val added. “Sitting here for hours watching them move across the sky makes me feel very small.”
A few minutes passed, then Heitor and Ricardo joined us. Ricardo kissed his wife and squeezed in between her and Kassandra.
“Nobody’s in the engine room?” I asked. “I thought you said you were going to have to sit on that bypass pump until we reached Bimini.”
“Oh, I think it’s going to be just fine now,” Heitor replied, taking a seat beside Savannah.
“Why’s that?” she asked.
“It’s on my workbench in pieces,” Heitor replied. “Ricardo and I replaced the pump an hour ago.”
The next morning started the same way as before—me rising early to have a little alone time with my ship. On this particular morning, I decided to spend it in the forward part of the crew deck.
“So, you hired them without knowing anything about them?” Travis asked.
He sat comfortably in an overstuffed chair. Each member of the security team had their own small room in this section of the crew deck, with Stockwell having a double stateroom and office. We were in the office.
“You know how you can get a good read on someone right off the bat?” I replied. “They’re good, solid people.”
“Sounds to me like providence put them right in our path,” he said, his hard, steely eyes giving away nothing. “What do you think the odds are of finding just the people needed, floating in the middle of the Caribbean?”
“Are you thinking one of the cartels sent them and they’re here to slit our throats while we sleep?”
One corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “You said it, not me.”
“Why would they send a cook, a teacher, a mechanic, and a laundress?” I asked. “It’s more likely they’d send hardcore mercs.”
“We’ve known each other a long time, Jesse. I’ll be blunt. You’re in command of a large vessel with a crew of thirty-four, many of whom are highly-trained operatives.”
“And you think taking the Santiagos aboard is a threat?”
“Not a threat,” he said, looking around the office. “Within easy reach, I have two handguns and an Uzi. My men are armed in their sleep. We train constantly for anything that might happen, including infiltration. In a pinch, you and a few others in the bridge crew, each with similar backgrounds to yours, can be armed and manning the rail.”
“So, what then?” I asked. “Do you think it was irresponsible to bring them aboard?”
“No,” he replied, rising, and moving over to a coffee maker. He held the pot out, offering me a refill. I extended my mug and he filled it, then poured his own. “Jack saw leadership potential in you,” he continued. “I happened to agree with him. He wouldn’t have spent all the time, energy, and money molding you into a ship’s captain if he didn’t trust your judgment.
“It would have been irresponsible of you to not take them aboard,” he added. “The first rule of the sea is to never leave a mariner adrift. I’m just an old dog soldier, but I’ve learned a lot being on this tub.”
“Tub?” I asked, taking a sip of my coffee.
“You know what I mean, Jesse. You, and you alone, are responsible for the well-being of the thirty-four souls aboard. Now you’ve made that forty-one. You’ve increased your responsibility by twenty percent.”
“Soon to be forty-seven souls,” I said. “We have visitors arriving in a couple of hours.”
“I’ve heard,” Travis said. “I’m looking forward to meeting your friend Tank. Is it true what they say? That he somehow knew where all those mines were?”
I grinned as Travis sat back down in his chair. “I’ll let him tell you that story.”
“The thing is,” he began, “Jack put you in charge for a reason. It’s your job to hire crew—at least those outside the more technical positions, and of course, my security team. Jack hired you, Brand, Val, and most of the guys in the op center and on the bridge. I hired my security team. You should vet the crew you hire. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I have,” I replied, looking over my mug at the retired spec-ops Army officer. “Let me ask you something. Did any of your guys come to you looking for a job, and hand you a resume?”
“Point taken,” he replied. “I searched them out.”
&nb
sp; “I found solid people to fill at least four vacant positions,” I said. “The fact that none of them were looking for a job when I found them doesn’t make them any less qualified.”
“I agree,” Travis said. “From what I heard, Mr. Silva was very much impressed with your new mechanic. And I’ve seen firsthand what Mr. Santiago can do.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The girls,” he replied, his eyes boring holes into mine. “They’ll be a distraction.”
“They’re not the only women aboard, Colonel.”
He sat forward and put his mug on the table between us. “Has being married affected your eyesight, Gunny? I’m old enough to be those girls’ grandpa, but even I can see they’re more than just beautiful. A lot more. My men are professionals, but they have eyes. Meachum and Duster are young and far from home.”
I took a slow sip from my mug, then put it down. “They’re all young, Trav. When did we get so old?”
The lines in his face seemed like they might crack as a rare smile came slowly to his lips. Then it went away, as if it were never there. “For me, it was in the Sinai Peninsula, nearly forty years ago. For you, I expect it was in Beirut a year later.”
He rose and looked down at me. “You didn’t come down here to chat about crew hires. What is it you want?”
I stood and faced him, our eyes at the same level. We were two old warriors, cut from the same cloth.
“I want to inspect the armory.”
“No need,” he said. “I check it daily.”
“Have you done that today?”
“Not yet,” he replied.
“Then we can do it together. I have thirty minutes to kill, and the armory is the last thing on this tub I haven’t gotten up close and personal with.”
“Tub?” He paused and grinned. “Okay, let’s go have a look at Ambrosia’s weaponry.”
The armory was next to his office. Stockwell punched the code into a pad next to the hatch and pushed it open. Walt Meachum was at a table, reassembling an M-249 Squad Automatic Weapon, or SAW, a crew- served machine gun requiring two men to operate.
Steady As She Goes: A Jesse McDermitt Novel (Caribbean Adventure Series Book 21) Page 9