Chapter 14

The Naval Officers Club.

Zo was very polite and quite sophisticated, but she’d not had a normal life. Daddy was a rather high-up functionary in the Brisbane political sector ... and never tell yourself that he was a common harbor cop. When it comes to getting your boat cleared for insurance ... nobody is common.

Zo was used to circulating among the bureaucrats of city and national politics. Elected officials serve at the whim of the electorate ... bureaucrats are trans-party. The place couldn’t run without them. If she wasn’t seated at the high table she was seated with their children. And those children gossip.

We trio, had been inoculated with The Marine Corps Officers Manual practically from birth. We Knew what was acceptable and looked down on pilots ... they flew. Officers planned the flights. Pilots were known risk takers ... kick the tires, light the fires ... somebody else made sure the thing would fly.

The Royal Navy had an unwritten rule ... First officers on down ... never marry. Captains Must be married.

Zo was an excellent conversationalist ... and she was up on current events. With her white gloved hand settled in the crook of my elbow, she guided me between groups of officers and the visiting Congressional Fact-finding mission ... vacationing House and Senate members on junket. (They were looking into bases to close that weren’t in their particular fief. You can’t get much farther away from America than Guam.)

Zo ... in her pleasant alto, was saying, “I suspect that, in a few years, there will be a great many adults, tired of the ratrace of service jobs, exploring by boat. Entrepreneurs and enterprising couples sailing across oceans to see first-hand what their parents saw at the travelogues so popular in the late Fifties and early Sixties.”

Not a few of the listeners were surprised.

“Abandoned Naval bases taken over by foreigners who will profit from those adventurers adventures will be key to success.”

Said the leading Senator, “Where will they get the wherewithal?”

“Selling their patents and companies to the Japanese,” Zo said.

Since that event was already happening all over the country, it was of paramount importance to the government. The tax base was eroding and gathering steam. Big steel was rusting and the iron was on its way to China ... mainland and Taiwan

Whether she knew or not, Zo was spreading the politics of the next century.

Finally, someone asked, “Where is your responsible adult?”

Zo said, “Mine is in Brisbane.”

“Me too,” said Malcolm.

“Ours,” I indicated Cyn in the phrase. “Are dead. We have New Zealand Passports. For the last year, we’ve been political refugees living in Auckland and Dunedin.”

“But, your English is excellent ... if a bit southern. Nanny?”

“Mom insisted on a foreign language nanny. She said our formative years were the best time to learn other languages.” Of course, Cyn actually said, “Äiti vaati vieraan kielen lastenhoitajaa. Hän sanoi, että muotoiluvuodet olivat paras aika oppia muita kieliä.”

And I agreed, “Yes, we had many different nationalities teach us,” but in Hungarian. “- Igen, sok különböző nemzetiségünk tanított minket.”

Cyn said, “Our French is lacking, that nanny abandoned us to get married,” «Notre français manque, cette nourrice nous a abandonnés pour nous marier»

“She wasn’t very good, she wasn’t a Parisienne,” I gave Cyn a look, “St Pierre and Miquelon?” Although, I spoke in German. “Sie war nicht sehr gut, sie war keine Pariserin, St. Pierre und Miquelon?”