Chapter 31

The Yacht Club was up in arms. I was a paying customer and the club insurance covered the sinking. Double the purchase price. The insurance company was pissed. Unless someone were to come forward and identify the perpetrators ... they were out 5 million. Unless they could get me convicted of sinking my own boat.

In the classroom trying to teach 220 year one students algebra ... and I yelled at enough of them to notice.

And I had my own insurance ... EveryCountry ... kind of like Lloyds without the turmoil. They had tried when mom had bought the boat to issue a non-double payment clause ... but mom wasn’t going for that. Her attorney Lawyer Shingle, he of the notorious briefcase, struck that from the contract. Mrs. Flintkote was paying 15 years in advance and that entitled her to the best.

It seems that nearly every diver was an alumnus of the university and former players or playing in a business league.

I took the bus to Port Chalmers and called Jim Boyles. I explained my side of the assault ... Jim was a Rugby player, but he’d heard rumours.

Jim had the certification and I had the equipment ... the cat had a complete divers facility. I admit most of it was under water but we could work with that.

Since I was on staff, I prevailed on the oceanographic department to predict the depth of water during low tide and high tide for the next month. Generally I could expect 3 inches below harbour mean to as much as 7 feet above harbour mean. If I could lift the boat with the daggerboards then the boat would drain ... if not completely ... to a water level that I could either seal the broken seacocks or replace them.

Except, the boat was now in the hands of the insurers. I could remove personal property but the boat belonged to them.

Ring RingRing Ring

“Every Country, how may I direct your call?” She had a pleasant voice.

“I don’t know,” I said, “What do you have?”

“Well. If we knew your need we might have the solution.”

“My boat sunk. Provable sabotage. Police reports.”

“You want Claims.”

“Already did that,” I said, “Paid out already.”

“Then how may we assist?”

“Sell me the wreck.”

“Ah ... salvage. I’ll ring through.”

Ring RingRing Ring

“Salvage.” A gruff male voice. A working man.

“Surprise Flintkote here, I want to buy my boat.”

“Dunedin Yacht Club?”

“Yes.” I paused. “How did you know?”

“You are the only Surprise I have on my list of claimants.”

“Well, I want to buy it back.”

“How much?”

“That’s my line,” I said.

“What are you willing to pay?”

“How much do you want?” I answered, “Oh ... we’re bargaining. A dollar.”

“Two hundred thousand,” I could hear his grin as he spoke.

“Two thousand,” I said. “I’m dealing with two insurers.”

When it was all said and done the boat cost sixty thousand twice ... two insurance companies. Took a week. I had Jim watching the boat seconds after I had title. At low tide we dropped both daggerboards and pumped them up as high as we could with the hand pumps. It was a lot of work. With the high tide we were able to pump the boards lower. The next low tide she began to drain because the boards were extended.