The Redhead - Cover

The Redhead

Copyright© 2014 by Ragnaar

Chapter 8

A sense of purpose returns to my life...

I spent most of the rest of the day with Harry, he was fun to talk to and he was about the same age as my Grandpa back in Iowa. Their outlooks on life were much the same. I found it comforting to realize that Harry was a genuinely good man.

Harry, was unfailingly cheerful, We sat and talked about my life, his life, the military – Harry had been a sub mariner during WWII and was proud of it. He had retired from the Navy in 1950 at the age of 44 bought the boat we were on and had spent the ensuing years sailing everywhere the notion took him to go. He never set out to reach a specific destination. He would just pick certain direction with only a vague notion of a sailing plan. He was an explorer and he loved to just go. Sometimes he had a lady with him, sometimes he single handed the boat himself. He never circumnavigated the earth as a planned trip, but he did none the less see much of it over the next 22 years.

When I met him, he was 66 years old and was starting to have some of the old man irritations visited upon him. He had been tied up in this marina for the past 6 months while he received treatment at the VA Hospital in Miami. They had found cancer and they were doing what they could for him.

He was still cheerful and easy going. He never let things get him down,

"You know Gary, I have lived a great life. I have always done anything and everything that I have wanted to do, I am truly happy. I have no regrets, oh maybe a small one, that I had never had any children to share it all with, but it's OK, some of my girl friends had kids and I got to share it with some of them. It's been good."

Toward the end of the afternoon, He said it was time for a little Grog, the sun was below the Yard Arm somewhere and he invited me to have a drink with him. After he had his drink, he sipped it and leaned back in his chair and dozed off. I set the drink back in the Galley and left him a note telling that I would stop again next time our boat couldn't go out.

I went home that evening with a smile on my face and joy in my heart. I had spent time with a great man. When I got home, I started supper for Grace and myself, I had learned to cook on the farm by one of the Mid West's greatest cooks, my Grandma. As attested to by the numerous Blue Ribbons and best of Show Ribbons that she had won at the Iowa State Fair. I wasn't in her league, but I was better than a fry cook.

When Grace came home, I got the meal on the table and we sat down and she asked me what I had done all day.

I told her about my new friend Harry...

Over the next several months, whenever we were not going to go out and fish and many weekends, I spent my spare time on Harry's boat. A week or so after we met, he decided to under take a major refitting out of the entire boat.

On the next visit to the boat, Harry finally got around to telling me what kind of boat it was.

"It's a, 1949 48' Gaff Rigged Schooner. I saw her in Panama in 1950 when I was coming back from over seas. We were getting ready to transit the Panama Canal, and she was right behind the ship I was on.

It was almost love at first sight. As we sat waiting for our turn in the Lock, I signaled the Captain and finally got him on the radio. We talked in Spanish for a short while, I asked him a lot of questions about the boat. He was a Captain of a delivery crew taking the boat to Florida for the owner. The owner was putting the boat up for sale there as he thought he would get better money for her in America. I found out where they were going to dock in Florida and got all the information. I told the transit Captain, that I would reach him by radio when he got close to Florida to set up a time to see the boat.

I was on my way home to South Carolina and was getting my discharge from the Navy. It had always been my goal to buy a large sail boat to sail and live on. She had the lines and everything about her was just what I had been looking for. I needed to get more specific details on her construction and systems, to see what if anything I would have to change. We made good time to Norfolk, Va., when we tied up there, I walked off the last Navy Ship that I would ever be on as a member of the Crew. I had a week or so of paper work to take care of. I was mustered out with the rank of Captain. I took my discharge pay and bought a used car and headed for Florida. I wanted to be there when the "Valkyrie" came in. I fully intended to buy that boat and I wanted to be the first one on her to check for what I believed I would find on board. If she was as I hoped, she would be mine." He told me, in answer to my question.

After we had talked about the boat. He told me about his plans to refit the boat for her next major voyage. He had already made plans to have her hauled out onto the hard and the masts unstepped. This was going to take place on the following Thursday. He was going to have the masts carefully cleaned stripped and re fitted with new hardware and varnished with many coats of varnish. This was the second set of masts that the boat had needed. Harry had them installed 10 years ago. They were beautiful Douglas Fir. Along with the masts, all the rigging and cordage was going to be changed out as well. The hull was going to be cleaned, new copper sheathing and painted. All the above the waterline was to be painted and varnished as well.

I thought the boat was in beautiful repair, but Harry set me straight. He told me that it had been over two years since any serious maintenance had been done to her. He had been in charge of all the bright work and touch up varnish. He thought she was starting to look shabby and show her age. He said she had to be perfect for her next voyage. So for the next months, he and I worked along side one another and he taught me all he knew about sailing and this boat in particular. The diesels were pulled and overhauled as well. New sails were ordered and in some cases two of each kind of sail was on the order. The amount of money that was going into the refit must have been staggering, but he never mentioned it at all. She had to be perfect and until she was, he would not be satisfied.

As we progressed, he trusted me a little more each time to be in charge of one aspect of the refit or another. It took almost 6 months of continuous effort on his part and as much of mine as I could get away with, helping when ever and where ever I could. Toward the end, he let me make many of the finishing decisions. He consulted with other boat owners in the Marina about the newest systems and upgrades. Many of which he and I shopped for together.

Grace started coming with me whenever she could get away. As she got to know him, she and he became like father and daughter. Many evenings when we finished working, we would all get in her car or mine and go out to eat. It was such an enjoyable time. Toward the end of the refit, I started to notice a subtle change in his walk and speech. I didn't bring it up with him as he never mentioned any issues of health, other than periodically he would go to the VA Hospital for treatment. I did mention it to Grace, and we started watching him closer each time we were together.

Once the refit was done, of course we had to take her out for a shake down cruise. Harry told me to invite Al and Bernie and of course Grace too. One bright Saturday morning early we set out for Bimini in the Bahamas, we were going to be gone a week. Over the next week, we sailed amongst the different islands of the Bahamas, at night and during the day, he was teaching me navigation using a Sextant, the old fashioned way. We would take noon sites and he would have me calculate all the math. Boy was I regretting all the lost opportunity for higher math, that I didn't take in school. This was the school of necessity. If your math was wrong, you didn't end up being where you wanted to be. Kind of embarrassing when you showed up at an island and had to ask where you were.

When we got back to the dock in Miami, it was with a feeling of relief and happiness on Harry's part.

He seemed weaker and less sure of his steps. He didn't bring it up and I didn't want to pry into what was clearly not my business, I felt that if he wanted me to know, he would tell me. When we all bid him goodbye, I did so with a sense of foreboding. I felt like something was going to happen. As Grace and I drove away, I was almost afraid to leave.

The next morning, I woke up with a feeling of apprehension. I told Grace that I thought we should go and see if Harry was OK. We drove over to the marina and knocked on the rail of the boat and called out to Harry. Normally there would be an answering call, this time there was nothing. We stood there looking at one another, then I heard it, a dull thumping, over and over again. It was clearly coming from inside the boat. I vaulted over the rail and yanked the Pilot House door open and leaped down the companion way ladder. There was Harry stretched out on the floor with blood running from his mouth and and nose. He tried to talk, I just told him to stay quiet, we were going to get him to the Hospital. I scooped him up in my arms and went up the ladder and over the rail and ran down the dock to the car. Luckily we had brought my convertible and had the top down. I set him over the side in to the back seat and crawled in with him so I could hold him. Grace got behind the wheel and headed toward the Miami VA Hospital. Luckily it was early Sunday morning and the traffic was lite. She definitely broke the speed limit.

When we arrived, I stood up in the car, picked him up and ran into the Emergency entrance with Grace right behind me. A Doctor saw me coming and met me with a gurney. I laid him on it and they whisked him away. When they asked me for his name and mine and what our relationship was, I told them he was my friend. They checked their records and he had already listed Grace and I as his closest immediate family. It seems that Harry had already taken care of the paper work and so we were taken right away to his room. We waited for almost three hours, before we were finally told by a nurse that Harry would be coming shortly.

The Request and The Surprise...

After just a short wait the Doctor came in to talk to us.

He told us that Harry had been in for a check up two months ago and at that time they found that the cancer had come back with a vengeance. He had his prostate removed surgically, approximately a year ago. Five months before I met him. They hoped that they had gotten it all and things had looked good until the last check up.

The Doctor told us that he had speculated that Harry had at most 3 more months to live. Harry told the Doctor at that time he was all right with that and that when the time came all he wanted done was medications to minimize the pain. He had been advised to stay in the hospital and they could keep him comfortable, but he had told the Doctor that he had too much to do. Just give him what ever he could in the way of pills or injections that he could do for himself and he needed to get on with what he was doing. So that is what was done.

The Doctor believed that Harry only had hours to live, maybe a day if he was lucky. The Doctor asked me if there was any additional family that should be called, I told him no. The Doctor told me that Harry had instructed him to call only one additional person besides Grace and I. He told us he would take care of that.

Just a couple of minutes later, the nurse brought Harry in on a bed and they transferred him to the bed in the room and hooked him up to an IV. He was very drowsy and wasn't really awake enough to know who was there. The Doctor told us they had given him two units of blood and fluids to stabilize him and morphine for the pain. He would sleep for a while yet. The Doctor left and we settled down to wait.

Grace and I didn't talk, it was as if we were to voice what we were feeling, it might hasten Harry's death.

As I sat there, I thought back to how we met and all that we had done in the past months. Harry had become like a father to me. He had been my friend, my mentor, my teacher, my harshest critic in a kind way when I screwed up on navigation problems. Because of him I knew wooden boats inside out. There was nothing that he hadn't shown me or taught me how to do. I felt very confident that when the time came to buy my own boat, that I could do so and know what I was getting and how to take care of it and to sail it for the best performance. I had always thought that Harry would be there to help me make that purchase, so we could sail together and race and go on long trips to far away places. I had hoped that he would live to be at least 90, but it seemed that it was not to be.

"Gary?" Grace said. "He's waking up." We both pulled our chairs to his bed side. I reached up to hold his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. My heart took a leap when he squeezed back.

"How ya' doin Harry?" I asked.

"I'm doin OK, I just took a little nap. Where am I?" He asked. "I laid down to take an nap and that's the last thing I remember."

"You're at the VA Hospital." I told him.

"How did I get here?" He asked. He was still a little drugged. He was not thinking like his normal self. He dropped off to sleep again and we just stayed by his side.

An hour or so later he started to wake up. This time he was alert and seemed more like his old self again. I told him how we had come back the next morning and found him and rushed him to the VA. He told me that he had some things he wanted to discuss with me. I told him to just rest and get his strength back.

He would have none of it. He knew he was dieing and there were things that he had to say.

"Gary, I have a request that I want to make of you, is that all right?" He asked. "Sure, no problem I will do anything that you want, what is it?

"I know that what I am about to ask is a very special request and I will understand if you choose to not carry it out. If you do choose not to do it, I want you to know that I have made alternate arrangements, just in case."

"What I want, is to be buried at sea. After I am gone, I have made arrangements for my body to be taken to a funeral home and to be sewn in to a sail cloth shroud in the manner of sailors the world over in olden times. I want to be buried at sea. Remember I had you make that new teak gang plank and wanted the back side to be very smooth with the small raised edges along the side?" He asked.

"Yes, I remember, what do I do with that? I asked. "You and Al and Bernie and Grace lay my body on it and tip it up so I slide over the side and into the sea. My attorney will be there too and he has all the details where I would like it to be done. The spot I want to be buried is about 120 miles off shore to the east of San Salvador Island on the far east edge of the Caribbean in a deep water, I want you to take me there in my beautiful "Valkyrie". This was the voyage I was getting her ready for. Years ago, I found two 24 pound round shot in an old sunken Square Rigged Man O' War from the mid 1800's she was a British Man O' War ... They will be sewn in the foot of the shroud to provide weight so that I go to my final resting place." He told us.

"Gary and Grace, please don't be sad, I am happy and secure, knowing that I have accomplished all that I have wanted to do. You have both been my family these past months and you have enriched my life beyond anything that I had ever had a right to expect. Please do not grieve. Be happy, I will be with my Savior and I will see you again. I love you both." He told us. As I looked at him, there were tears in his eyes and mine too. I gripped his hand, leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. He was asleep again. I looked over at Grace and she was sitting there gripping his other hand trying to cry quietly and clearly not being able to do it. I got up and went around the bed and took her in my arms and held her while we both held his hand.

We sat down and maintained our vigil. A few hours later about 02:00 he shifted a little in the bed and gave a soft sigh. I knew he was gone. I felt devastated. I had seen death, but never this close and never of someone that I loved so much.

The nurse came in shortly and then went to call the Doctor. We really didn't know what to do now. We left the room while they unhooked the monitors and IV's and got him ready for transport to the funeral home.

We went to the desk and told them we were going to go home and get ready to carry out his final request. When we got home, all we could do was hold each other and cry. We didn't go to sleep. We stayed up and talked and about 06:00 I called and told Al and Bernie that Harry had died. I asked them if they would come. Around 08:00 the front bell sounded in the foyer and I went to answer the door. There was a man there who I had never seen. He introduced him self as Harry's attorney Howard Smithson and asked if he could come in.

I ushered him in and went and called Grace and got coffee on for all of us. When I got back in the parlor, Mr. Smithson was talking to Grace and asking her questions about us and Harry. He wanted to know how we had met Harry and what we considered our relationship to him to be. I told him what and how we had come to know Harry, I thought that some of his questions were kind of strange, at the time thought I wasn't processing anything very well. I went and got more coffee and once we were settled around the dining room table, he proceeded to tell us what he was tasked to do, in carrying out Harry's final wishes. He gave me a large manilla envelope that was sealed. He told me to open it after he left and if I chose to carry out Harry's last request, to follow the instructions I would find in the envelope. If I was going to do as Harry asked, I was to let him know later that day.

Mr. Smithson rose to leave, we shook hands and he bid us good day. As I was closing the door, I saw Al and Bernie's pickup truck coming around the corner. I walked outside to meet them. They started up the walk and I went down toward them, I reached out my hand to shake with them and they pulled me into a three way hug. We stood there hugging on the front sidewalk, three grown men crying and holding each other. Finally we broke and headed toward the steps, Grace was at the top to greet them. We had another group hug and more tears.

We went inside and Grace called the Maid and ordered breakfast for us. I took the envelope and went out to the screen porch to read it.

Dear Gary,

You are reading this. I am gone and it is now up to you to choose to carry out my final request or not. I want to tell you that you need feel no regret. I have chosen to tell you this way, because there was no guarantee that I would be able to tell you in person before the time had come.

My request is for you and Grace and anyone else you feel you need to help you, sail the "Valkyrie" to San Salvador, Island and go a spot 120 miles east of the Island and I wish to be buried at sea in the manner of the old sailors in the British Navy. In a sail cloth shroud with two round shot at my feet. The last two stitches in the shroud are to be passed through my nose and secured. It was in this manner that the old sailors ensured that they didn't bury a ship mate who was just unconscious and not dead. They thought that when that needle was pushed through the nose, any one who wasn't dead would surely wake up. Ha Ha!! I have often wondered if any one ever did.

My attorney Mr. Howard Smithson knows of all my final wishes and he has agreed to carry them out. If you choose not to honor my request I will be buried in a casket in my shroud in a cemetery in Miami.

In the other envelope I have provided the money to carry out everything that you will need to do and to pay for provisions and fuel and crew if you feel you need some extra hands to handle the boat. I have also given you a list of other sailors from the marina who have agreed to act as crew should you need them.

Go with God my son, for you have been a truer son that I had any right to expect. Hold on to Grace, she has become very special to me and she has told me your story of how you and she met. You truly have a special relationship.

If you choose to honor my request, Mr Smithson will tell you the details about how things are to be done, he will take care of all the items that need to be done. Your only job will be to get "Valkyrie" and take her to San Salvador. He will meet you there. He is not a sailor.

Thank you for being my friend and thank you for coming into my life. Know I have loved you like no other person in my life.

Take care of my "Valkyrie" for me. She is yours. I know you had talked to me about buying your own boat. Please take her with my blessings. You love her like I do. Your work on her for the refit has made her shine in all her glory once more.

Your friend,

Harry

I sat on the screen porch, eyes closed and tears were running down my face. Grace must have looked out and saw me. She came out and knelt down and held me as I cried. When I could finally stop, I showed her the letter.

"What are you going to do? You are going to do it aren't you?" She asked. "Of course I am going to do it, this would be an honor for me, to complete his last wishes in just the way he would want them done. Come on lets go and eat and then I will call Mr. Smithson."

We went into eat and I told Al and Bernie about the letter.

"Will you guys go with us and help me sail the boat, you have much more experience in handling a large boat than I do." I asked them

"Gary, you know that we would be happy to go with you and Grace to help in any way that we can." Al answered for them.

After we ate, I called Mr. Smithson and told him that I would do what Harry had requested. I asked him what I needed to do now. He told me that there was nothing more that I need do other than go and get the boat ready for sea. He would take care of getting the remains to San Salvador by plane. He would meet us there and would go with us to the burial site We agreed on a rendezvous date. Later that day, we went to the boat and cleaned up the blood and started getting ready for sea. We were planning on leaving the next morning. Al and Bernie went home to get what they would need and agreed to meet at the boat at 05:00 the next morning.

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