Chapter 17

I thought to myself, before the boat can get hauled I need to get it from where it is to the Basin.

<It’s at the Mc Donald’s dock.>

There’s a McDonald’s?

<Yup. Before you ask, we moved the boat.>

Where was it?

<Enoshima Yacht Harbor.>

How did it get there?

<We put it there.>

Didn’t anybody notice?

<Foggy ... amazingly foggy ... worse that 19th century London.>

It was clear here.

<Not at 0300. By the way, this Micky Dees is very good.>

So. When the driver and car arrived at 0700, on the dot, the four of us were waiting at the VISITOR ONLY sign. We were dressed for work ... two of us anyway. Zo had possession of the Debit Card ... drat her cute hide.

“McDonald’s please.”

“We’re supposed to go to the basin,” said our driver.

“We have to fetch the boat.”

“You parked at McDonald’s?”

“There were boats at the dock. We didn’t think they’d notice one more.”

That got a look.

McDonald’s is on the South side. We were in the middle. The Small Boat Basin is on the North West. We weren’t going to be at the Basin at 0800. Nope.

And since we were going to be late anyway ... we had breakfast. It’s what McDonald’s does in the morning. It’s a Navy Base ... they take dollars.

“You want to take the ladies shopping? Or go with us?” I asked the driver.

At the word shopping he began to perspire freely.

“I can’t leave the car.”

“It sucks to be you, then. They have a million dollar debit card.”

“Oh God, fuck a bunch of regs. I’m going with you.”

Just about then, a Tokyo cab screeched to a halt in front on the fast food restaurant. The ladies stood, daintily wiped lips, kissed their respective lover and ran for the door.

I waved good bye.

Zo waved back. The card was in her hand. Zo wasn’t waving at me ... the card was. It was Okay ... I was waving goodbye to the card.

(In 1992, one US dollar brought 123 yen ... the official exchange rate. When the author was stationed on board the USS Ranger CVA61, in 1959/60, the official exchange rate was 360¥ to $1 ... and that was for MPC Military Payment Certificates. If you had real Ivy Baker Priest’s, real american dollars, the market would easily reach twice that ... illegal as all get out but I knew of at least one chief who was busted to Seaman Recruit because he got caught in a CID sting.)

Finishing breakfast, we used the restaurant head. I bought several Large coffees and the three of us walked behind the Golden Arches and down to the dock and the Basilisk. Turn on the fans, give them a couple of minutes, start the diesel, shut down the fans, walk to the stern and look for water coming out the exhaust, call for the lines, transmission into reverse and back slowly out of the slip. How about that ... the driver was a competent sailor. He untied, flemished and coiled ... just as if he’d been sailing before.