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At the harbor, the same scene presented itself. We found boats of all sizes, but no people. Everything seemed to indicate that they had been forced to leave on the spot. There were tools on the deck of one boat; an open paint can with a brush sitting on top, at another. "Look over there!" said Igor, pointing to the forest of masts and riggings in front of us. "There!" he shouted excitedly, and ran down the jetty to a dull green boat. "That's a fine 'ship' that one," he shouted to us, waving his hands above his head to make us hurry.
"A fine ship, eh?" I asked. "What's so fine about it."
The boat looked grubby to me. Obviously it hadn't sailed for some time. The paint had peeled in some places. But it was a large boat, about fifty feet long, sturdy looking. It had two aluminum masts, tight rigging, and sails ready in place, meticulously covered, although dirty. Its name was Mary Q.
"A boat like this is worth a fortune," Igor replied excitedly. "I can recognize a good ship when I see one, and this is a very good ship. It will get us anywhere in the world," he said.
He was right, it was an ocean going yacht, and in good enough shape to get us to Hawaii. It was rather clean inside, even comfortable and apparently well equipped. Everything was neatly in its place. The outside needed a lot of work, mostly cleaning and painting...
"But before we can get anywhere," Igor jolted my daydreaming, "we must get fresh water, food for the voyage, and all the diesel fuel it can carry." He said he would volunteer to work on the boat, if Jennie and I went back to town to get food, clothing, bedding, and whatever else one would need for a journey of several weeks.
We accepted the task. Fortunately, none of these items were hard to find. We had three large stores to choose from. Neither was it hard to find a car that had its keys still in the ignition. We 'borrowed' an old brown Honda hatchback, to transport our looting down to the boat. It took us three trips loaded to the hilt, to fill the boat up. The biggest task, actually, wasn't finding the food, or transporting it, but finding space for it on the boat, and stashing the whole lot away without any of it getting in our way. Once this was apparently accomplished, and there was no room left on the boat, Igor was ready too.
"Would you like to take the helm," Igor asked me.
"Me?" I replied, "I don't know the first thing about sailing."
Igor laughed.
It was the same with Jennie.
"That's all right!" Igor said with the biggest grin on his face, "don't let this trouble you. I'll be the captain from now on! I have the skills, the experience; I'll rescue you. I'll teach you all I know. And for the time being, you are my crew!"
He stopped grinning, suddenly, and looked around, searching for something.
"We will be both crew and passengers," I corrected him, wondering what he was up to.
"In our country," I said, "it is the passengers who tell the captain where the ship goes. And we would like the captain to take us to someplace nice, to the island Maui, please."
"Yes, but in my country we have a tradition, also," he answered while he was still searching, "and under this tradition it is the captain who decrees where the ship goes. Now, as captain of this ship, I shall set sail towards the Southwest, into the direction of Hawaii, from where we just came. This is the captain's wish!"
"Well, if that is so," remarked Jennie with a smile. "Then we must let the captain do what he wants." She motioned me to come to the fore deck to test how it feels to lean against the cabin windows.
"Yes, we must obey the captain," I agreed. "So back to Hawaii, sir, captain, lead on!" I mocked him. Jennie grinned.
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Stories about
Love
from novels by Rolf A. F. Witzsche
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