Chapter 3

Lunch was simple, cold cuts and chips, soda or a beer. Wendy seemed surprised when I offered her one, and very pleased to be sitting there with us like an adult.

Once lunch was over, and Wendy even helped us clean up the mess, she looked a bit worried as she laid her hand on my arm.

“You said there was a salve or some cream or something, and I could use the hot tub?”

“The tub would just wash away the analgesic cream, so you might want to use the hot tub first. You go get a suit on, there should be some down there, and I will get the cream for you. I have several tubes for when we get banged up sparring, so you can have one for your cabin.”

She scampered off and Dean came over to where I was sitting at the helm.

“I put a hasp on the door. It is chromed and actually looks like it almost belongs there. We can lock it with a pen or something at night.” He assured me.

“The cameras. If you want to keep an eye on her but not follow her around, you have the cameras in the office.”

Dean looked thoughtful and nodded. “Going to have to turn the privacy filter off if she gets froggy.” He said, as much to himself as to me.

“Already did.” I said, not meeting his eyes when his head snapped around to look at me. I could see his smirk out to the corner of my eye and ignored it.

The hot tub was situated just forward of where the helm sat. I had been out there many times and the angle of the glass in front of the helm was designed to reduce glare for the captain, but it also served to make the interior of the boat almost impossible to see from out there.

Either Wendy didn’t realize that the expanse of glass was the helm or she just didn’t care. She came out with a towel and a glass of ice water, putting both beside the tub. She pulled off the cover, bent down to set the controls and, when it was happily bubbling away, she pulled off her t-shirt and let her shorts drop.

She was not wearing a bathing suit. In fact, she was gloriously nude. I could clearly see the redness and even some bruising on her rear end, now that the bright sun was lighting it so well, and I could see her wince when her cheeks hit the water. Still, she seemed to be blissfully happy after a couple of minutes as the warm water and bubbles massaged away her stress.

Inside at the helm, my stress was readily apparent, causing me to adjust it as I sat down, and I was glad Dean was in the office, playing with the camera. I didn’t need any lip from him!

To take my mind off what I was seeing and get it back on track, I grabbed the Sat phone to update Jake.

“Jack! How did it go? Did she get off okay? You got a flight number for me?”

“Jake, um, yes and no. We got her out, no problem, but she’s on the E Squared with Dean and me.”

Over Jake’s sputtering, I told him the whole story. I had to stop three different times to let him get control over himself. He should be ashamed. Men his age should not be laughing like hyenas, and the totally undistinguished giggling he did was just ... it was embarrassing!

“What the hell am I going to do with her, Jake? I was thinking Costa Rica. We can say she lost her passport overboard and the embassy could get her home, right?”

Jake was silent for a minute, but I could almost hear him thinking.

“Jack, lots of kids like to spring break down in Mexico, in Rio and in Costa Rica. Your idea might just work. Our big worry was this becoming a press issue, that some reporter would find out and ferret out more of the truth than we were comfortable with. If we use the vacation bit, and you can get her to go along with it, then yes. Let’s plan for that. I can do some work, alert some people.”

His voice trailed off as his mind mulled the problem.

“Jake, how is Liz?”

“Jack, she is as angry as I have ever seen her and I have known her for, well, forever. That boy is in some serious trouble, even if this never comes to light.”

“Well, give her my love, will you? Call me if anything changes, but I am going to set course for Costa Rica until I hear different.” I told him before signing off.

I quickly found the GPS coordinates for Limon and punched them in, letting the computer plot a course for me. By letting the computer set it instead of setting it manually, it also adjusted the sail plan and made my life a lot easier.

I could manually adjust it after the computer set up the optimum course, but I hadn’t found a real need to so far, except so I would know how. The software was really good on the open water. I wouldn’t trust it close to land, but it wasn’t designed for that anyway.

I was kicked back, sipping coffee and reading a book on my iPad when Wendy closed up the hot tub and wrapped a towel around herself. She walked around the side of the upper salon and came in the rear doors, probably not knowing about the side door on the other side from her route.

She came in, clothes dangling from her hand and the towel doing little to disguise her nakedness. An innocent expression on her face, she looked expectantly at me and I remembered to hand her the analgesic cream I had promised. With my eyes still on my iPad, my peripheral vision saw her turn to leave and spot the windscreen in front of the helm.

She froze, then took a half step forward, going up on her toes to confirm what she had just discovered. When she turned again, this time to stand in front of me with one hand on her hip, I raised my eyes from the iPad, lifted an eyebrow, and waited her out.

Her expression was hard to describe. It seemed to be cycling through several emotional states. Annoyance changed to embarrassment and that became calculating and that went back to embarrassed again. Finally, she turned and left without a word or a backward glance.

Dinner was a nice grouper that Dean trolled for as the wind started to die down about dusk. He did it up on the little hibachi grill over the lower deck where there were some firestones installed. We all sat and chatted over the meal, a kind of get to know you sort of thing, and even when we braced Wendy after dinner, things stayed surprisingly calm.

“Wendy, you have been great since we got on the E Squared and I want you to know we appreciate it.” She looked pleased at my praise, but my next comment made her blush and look a bit mulish.

“However, your behavior back on the island was, frankly, frightening. When you go to your cabin tonight, you will be locked in. You have your own head and the hasp on the door is not so strong that you could not break out if you tried hard enough. The idea though is that I am just not comfortable giving you free roam of the boat yet, not when we are sleeping. It is just too dangerous until we know you better.”

She looked as if she was going to speak but held her tongue. For several silent minutes, she sat there and stared at her fingers and they writhed and tangled in her lap.

“I’m sorry. I was angry. At the police on the island, at Leo for abandoning me, at you two who came and started making plans for me without even asking. I felt ... I still feel, powerless. I hate it. I hate not having any say in my life.” She was crying again, but quietly, not hiding her tears.

Dean was silent, letting me do the talking and I was waiting, sure she had more to say. She may not be ready yet, but I was giving her the room she needed.

“I ... I still love him. I know it is stupid. He is just someone who used me, but he ... he was this rich, handsome, suave and sophisticated older guy and I was just, just me. I am not even in the top ten prettiest at school, not the best cheerleader or the smartest student, not the best dancer or ... or anything, really. At home I am just ... average. Leo made me feel so special. It wasn’t like I was a virgin or something, but he knew what he was doing. It wasn’t fumbling in the back seat or getting groped at the movies. It was good.”

She was silent again, wiping her eyes now.

“I guess I am going to bed. Come down and lock up any time, warden.” She said, bitterness mixed with sadness in her voice.

“Good night, Wendy, and thanks.”

“For what?” she spat out, turning to glare at us.

“For trusting us, at least a little. For telling us and for being good today. All of those things mean a lot.”

Wendy blushed a little but turned and left without a word again. She seems to do that a lot.

Sailing time to Limon was going to be the better part of three days, but now that Wendy was cooperating, I wasn’t in as big a hurry. She had continued to be friendly and helpful, even helping out in the kitchen and doing some cleaning. She collected the dirty laundry and did that for us as well, which was cool.

She did begin a campaign of her own though, one that was dangerous! I could tell she was pushing boundaries, testing limits, but what she was doing was not against any rule Dean and I had laid down.

Wendy had taken to wearing the skimpiest bikini she could find. That lasted most of a day, and let me tell you, I wasn’t the only one watching her wiggle and shimmy around the deck.

Then she asked if she could sunbathe on the front deck, screened from the ever-present wind by the upper salon. I am sure that she never even considered that she would be sunbathing while lying on the padded Jacuzzi tub cover, right in front of the helm windows.

Nope, never crossed her mind at all when she slowly ... and I mean, very slowly, untied her top and let it drop, then did the same with her bottoms. When she bent at the waist and touched her toes, looking back at the helm windows through her ankles, well, I am sure that was an oversight as well.

And monkeys shoot out of my butt every full moon!

She didn’t even bother to dress when she came in after a couple of hours out there. She pranced through the salon on the way to the interior ladder with a smirk on her face. That girl was asking for trouble, but not one that the handcuffs...

Wait, scratch that. In fact, scratch that whole line of thought. Nope, not going there.

She was seventeen. Dean wasn’t going to touch her, I didn’t think, and I sure as hell was not going to either! A month ago? Maybe, but not now and not her.

First, she was underage. Second, she was the daughter of a Senator. Third, she was the daughter of Jake’s pal and Liz’s son’s ex.

That is a whole lot of nope!

The third day out, she never even bothered to get dressed. After lunch, while I was at the helm and reading a book, she came into the salon and put the television on, lounging on the sofa. She lay on her right side, her right leg flat and her left leg cocked, foot flat on the sofa cushion.

I am sure it was completely coincidental that this opened up her center ... right in my line of sight.

Monkeys. Flying ones. Wearing little Fedoras.

“Wendy, have you been enjoying yourself the last couple of days?” I asked innocently, not wanting to be confrontational. I had enjoyed a couple of days of peace and Wendy, while not a Rhodes scholar, was bright and had a good sense of humor. A little insecure and a little immature, maybe, but she was nice.

“I really have! I was angry and upset, but I told myself that I had to stop being a whiny bitch.” She said with a grin, crinkling her nose. “Once I stopped feeling sorry for myself, I realized how awesome it is to be out here. I feel so ... free, and relaxed!”

“Ah...” I said, tilting my head and very obviously giving her a once over. I had to hide a smile when she took a deep breath as my eyes rose to her chest. “that would explain the ... free-wheeling attire you chose to not wear.”

She stuck out her tongue at me and sat up.

“Jack, don’t you think I am pretty? Most guys would have been all over me if I flashed my titties. I may not be the prettiest girl at school, but you flash a little and your dance card is always full.”

“Well, beyond all of the good reasons why I won’t play that game, I thought you would have figured out that I am not like all the other guys.” I replied with a smirk of my own.

“Wendy, you are cute, and you have a very sexy figure, but you are seventeen and your father’s daughter. Even if there were no other reasons, and there are, that would be enough to keep me from putting the moves on you.”

Her lower lip was sticking out now, her eyes cloudy. “What do you mean, my father’s daughter? And what other reasons?” she pouted.

“Your father is a friend of my mentor, the man who is ... a grand-father to me. If I were to get into anything with you, I would be disappointing him and as much as I have come to like you, I wouldn’t disappoint him for a dozen of you.”

I could see that surprised her, maybe even hurt her feelings a bit, but I plowed on before she could interrupt.

“As for the other things. Let’s see ... you are seventeen. It might be legal in some states, but I don’t know about here. Since you were, legally anyway, abducted by your last boyfriend and snuck out of the country, crossing illegally into another country, how would it look to the authorities if I turned around and tried to seduce you too? I would look as bad as Leo. Lastly, and not to hurt your feelings, this Leo, even if he is the son of my granddad’s fiancé, is a piece of shit. Lord knows who else he has slept with, or what drugs he has done. Until you get checked out by a doctor, I wouldn’t advise you to be messing with anyone at all.”

I had seen her eyes go almost comically wide when I mentioned drugs, her face turning pale. When I got to the part about the doctor, she actually leaned over and put her face in her hands. I thought for a moment she was going to throw up and was out of my chair, a bin in hand, when she sat up.

She was crying. Again.

“I understand. I imagine I look pretty childish, huh? Flashing my tits and thinking you will fall at my feet.” She shook her head and looked out the rear windows.

“Wendy, you were just doing what girls do. What guys do too, if they have the balls to try. Besides, I never said I wasn’t enjoying the view, just that I couldn’t take advantage.”

She giggled at that, wiping her cheeks off with the palms of her hands.

“That’s something, I guess. Um ... I think I will get dressed though, if it is all the same to you.”

I mugged a sad face but nodded. “We’ll be making landfall in the morning, no telling what kind of mosquitoes and what have you there are down here closer to the equator.”

I had no idea, I was spit-balling, trying to make her feel better.

She just nodded and slipped below, out of sight.

Whew.

I had a number to call when we got in cell signal range of the coastline, and that happened about nine the next morning.

The number turned out to be that of a local lawyer who was going to help out. He owed Jake a few favors and had flown out from San Jose, the capitol, to meet us. He directed us to the commercial docks where the big container and tanker ships docked, though at the far end and safely away from those behemoths. There were a few other pleasure craft anchored in a small inlet so we didn’t stick out too much.

We were able to pull alongside the dock and tie up with the help of a couple of local boys who had been fishing there. I made a mental note to give them a couple of bucks each for helping out.

Wendy had asked for, and gotten permission, to take a pair of sun dresses and a few other clothes in a cloth gym bag. We had whisked her away from Jamaica without so much as a toothbrush. It was a good thing we kept spares aboard!

Wendy had sat down to breakfast with us that morning, just after daybreak, and made sure to thank us for her ‘rescue’ (she even did the air quotes, but with a smile) and to apologize again for her behavior on the island.

“If I thought I had a chance in hell of getting permission, I would ask to stay here with you guys. I think going through the Panama Canal, and up the coast sounds like so much fun.” she said wistfully, her eyes focused far away, on something only she could see.

“I don’t know if I could handle several weeks of you prancing around in what the good lord gave you, missy.” I said teasingly, shaking my finger at her.

She blushed but stuck out her tongue.

“I’ll go peacefully, Marshal.” she replied, but poked Dean in the shoulder.

“What? I was enjoying the show, don’t blame me!” Dean said innocently, cracking us all up.

Our contact, Rafael Reinaldo, was dressed in a comfortable-looking linen suit, a straw hat and a walking stick, looking every bit the Caribbean gentleman. He seemed happy to be there and even happier to meet us, bending over Wendy’s hand like a courtier. Hmm ... I was going to have to try that someday, based on Wendy’s blush.

“Welcome, welcome to beautiful Costa Rica. Miss Larson, I spoke to your father just this morning and he asked me to give you his love and his hopes that he would see you soon.” He said smoothly, then turned to Dean and me.

“I understand that the young lady lost her passport but no worries, gentlemen. Señor Jake asked me, personally, to see the young lady through the rocks and shoals of the local bureaucracy and I will fulfill my duties without fail. I owe Señor Jake a great deal! His generosity put me through law school and I have been his representative down here, where his oil company has twenty-three wells, mind you, ever since.” Rafael declared loudly, his hand on his heart.

He was quite a character.

“Jake told me to leave her in your very capable hands, Señor, but, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, may I ask for some kind of identification? The young lady is important to many people.”

“Of course, of course! Please, Señor, my card and my license.” He said with a grin, handing them over.

I pulled out my phone and snapped a pick of both, then of him standing and talking to Wendy, texting them both to Jake. It only took a moment before my phone rang.

“Very smart, Jack! I honestly didn’t even think about that. Let me talk to Rafael for a moment, if you would.” Jake asked.

I caught Señor Reinaldo’s eye and passed him the phone. What followed was a spate of Spanish, but with more than a couple of Portuguese words mixed in. it was mostly catching up and, on this side, a healthy dose of Latin ass kissing. When they were done, Reinaldo handed me back the phone and Jake and I said our goodbyes.

“Señor Jake said I would do well to cultivate a business relationship with you, Señor McCoy. He said not to be deceived by your age, that you were an astute businessman in your own right.” Reinaldo’s eyes were alight and the avarice was clear, but there was humor too. He was greedy, but not evilly so.

“I will take your card and here, you can have one of mine. Should you find something that might interest me, send it to my business manager.” I said with a grin of my own, telling him not to bother buttering me up.

Wendy’s eyes had gotten bigger through this and she was watching me speculatively. I had given her an address where she could write to me, as well as my email, and explained that the physical address was my trust. She called me a trust fund baby with a laugh, and I let her think that. It was kind of true, I guess.

She did give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and a like display for Dean, before climbing into the big Mercedes that had brought the lawyer to meet us.

I gave each of the boys, they were still there, listening in and gawking at the boat, a five-dollar bill if they would cast us off again when we were ready. They both nodded like bobble heads but didn’t say anything. When they did cast off the ropes a few minutes later, they stayed there on the pier, waving, until we were almost out of sight.

Oh. My. God.

I know, I sound like a girl. A teen girl, but ... OH MY GOD!

If I had known. If I had an inkling of what a colossal pain in the ass it would be, there is absolutely zero chance I would ever have come within pissing distance of Panama, much less the freaking canal.

You think I am exaggerating, but you ... unless you have been there and done this, you have no clue.

Okay, okay. Listen while I tell you my story.

First, you can’t just motor up and get in line. No, that would be way too easy. Makes sense though, they have to have some control or things would get chaotic. Now, never mind that in every satellite shot on every mapping application on the web, there is never, ever a ship in the canals. You might see one or two little ones after they have passed through, a few at anchor waiting, but never do you see the massive concentration of ships that requires an average waiting time of seven days.

Yep. That average only holds if you knew ahead of time what a bureaucratic cluster-fuck the canal is and had registered your intent with the government.

What’s that you say? That sounds odd? You haven’t seen nothing yet!

If you are smart, you will have arranged for an agent to handle everything for you. That way, you arrive when he tells you to and wait around for a week, then slide through with him handling everything.

Expensive, but worth it even if you are not rich.

We arrived in the waters outside of Colon and my scanner caught a radio broadcast, lower powered, but clear enough within a mile or two of shore. It informed us that all ships intending to transit the canal needed to register.

Hmm, can do. Here’s the thing though, you are supposed register your intent to request passage at least ninety-six hours before you actually arrive in the area. Failing to do so could lead to ‘delays.’ Delays like having to register and wait a week before you can begin actually ... you know ... registering.

Well, we paid to tie up at the Shelter Bay Marina, though the fees were higher than I had paid anywhere to date. Whatever, it is only money.

Dean and I locked up and walked up to the little office hut they had and found a table with a whole lot of information that we would need if we wanted to go through the canal. Score!

Not so much.

Once you register your intent (ninety-six hours before you register for a time slot) and then, when it is time, register for a time slot which can be any time in the next seven to ten days, you also have to get set up for an ‘Ad Measurement’ appointment.

See, they are very serious about that. You have to be officially measured by a guy with a tape measure, by hand, to determine how long and how wide your boat is. No taking your word for it, or eyeballing allowed.

See, if you are under fifty feet, you pay one toll, but fifty feet and one eighth of an inch, raises the toll from eight hundred to thirteen hundred dollars! The next level is eighty to ninety-nine feet, eleven and thirty-one thirty-seconds and that is set at two thousand. The last category is over one hundred feet in length at three-thousand, two-hundred dollars.

But that’s not all! There is a TVI inspection charge of fifty-four for each boat. Then there is a security charge of one-hundred and thirty dollars, even though they explicitly say they are not responsible for the security of the boat, its cargo, its passengers and crew. Last is what they call a buffer deposit.

Buffer deposit of eight hundred and ninety-one dollars per boat. That sounds like what you would pay for some rubber tires or inflatable fenders to hang from the side of your boat, right? Nope. That is a pain-in-the-ass deposit. If you complain or otherwise annoy anyone in any official capacity, they will find ways to fine you or otherwise cause that buffer deposit to be used up.

For example, you must allow a canal official to board your boat and ‘advise’ you through the entire transit of the Panama Canal system and waterways. This transit takes more than twenty-four hours so you must provide bottled, not purified on board, but bottled water and hot meals. If the ‘Advisor’ does not like the meal, he can order one from the shore, brought out by pilot boat, and that meal, use of the boat, pay for the pilot boat crew, all comes from ... you guessed it, the Buffer deposit!

The Advisor may, at his or her discretion, have an assistant or a student join them to learn the process. You are obligated to feed and water the assistant or student as well.

Then there is the rope and rope handlers. You are required to furnish four ropes of at least one hundred and twenty-five feet in length and of sufficient strength to hold your boat in the turbulent waters of the canal. If you do not have these ropes, you must purchase or, as most do, rent them from a local supplier. Rental ropes can be had for about sixty to ninety dollars.

You have to have four rope handlers as well, one for each of the ropes, and if you do not have them, you have to find them or hire them. These rope handlers will also travel with you for the length of your transit and you are obligated to bed them down and feed them as well. Hired line handlers get about a hundred each.

If you have been adding this up yourself, we are currently at $4735 + food for three-four people, plus bottled water for the same. This does not, of course, count the two weeks it was looking like we would have to spend waiting. We could stay on the boat, but the daily dock charge was four hundred and ninety dollars. If we moved to an anchorage spot, it was cheaper at just ninety-five though, so that was something.

Docked we had power, water, no need to burn fuel and no using my Chris Craft. Staying at the dock would jack the price up to eleven thousand, six hundred not counting food and incidentals.

Okay look, I am not a penny pincher, I spent half a million on a toy boat I never use any more, but this whole mess annoys me.

What choice did I have, really? I could stay and brazen it out, bleeding fees or I could give up, head north again and say screw it.

Or, I could do what rich people have been doing since the invention of money. I could bribe my way in. First step, talk to someone wise in the way of monetized force multipliers, Jake.

“Jake, Jack here and I could use a bit of advice. Oh, before I go on, how is Wendy? She get home okay? Her dad happy?”

“Wendy is fine, Jack. She speaks in glowing terms of you, by the way. She seems to think that you are someone special!”

“Ahhh, um ... Jake, you know I...”

“Jack, relax. I trust you and even if you had, I don’t know, dallied, shall we say? Even if you had, I trusted that you would not be a cad about it. Never mind, son, what’s got a bee in your bonnet?”

“Panama! Jake, have you ever gone through the canal?” I asked, my voice rising with every syllable. As I told him the whole story, I could hear him laughing. Then, he must have put me on speaker, I could hear Liz and Dave and someone else laughing too!

“Jack, you are a smart and courageous and honest as the day is long, but you are not one to suffer setbacks with patience. Panama is Panama. It is, has been and will always be a banana republic that has to be stepped on every now and then when they start getting out of control. You go down there with that in mind, and ready to grease every palm you meet, you will have a much nicer visit.”

“So, what do you suggest, Jake? Do you have any contacts that can help me find the right palms to grease?”

“‘Fraid not, Jack. I don’t do any business there. I have oil wells south of there, and north of there, but never in Panama. They will get another Noriega and try to nationalize them again, sure as shit.”

There was some discussion, too low for Jake’s phone to pick up, and a new voice was heard.

“Jack, I hope that’s okay to call you Jack, my name is William Sandoval. Bill, please. I am in shipping. Crude, containers, food, cars, whatever you got, I move it. And by shipping, I mean through the air, by rail or truck and, of course by sea. What you are running in to down there is, well, it’s a mess, that’s for sure. Rates went up quite a bit in fourteen, again in sixteen, and a bump last year too. One of my container ships just paid the largest fee ever paid, four hundred and seventy-nine thousand.”

“Nice to meet you, sir. Or, talk anyway.” If this guy was a friend of Jakes, I would hear him out.

“You can push bit down there, skip the line a bit, but I doubt you will be able to move through in less than four or five days no matter who you bribe. Unless you are willing to spend endowment money.”

“Endowment ... oh! Like when Jake told me I could go to any college in the world if I was willing to build them a new library. That kind of endowment money?”

“That’s exactly right, Jake. I don’t recall if you said how big your boat was, but the bigger you are, the more expensive it gets. Bribe-wise, I mean, you already know about the fee schedule. The larger you are, the harder it is to slip you in as an extra and the more likely you are going to bump someone else who is greasing palms. That causes the price to go up higher.”

“Thirty-eight meters, about a hundred and twenty-five feet.” I told him and there was quiet for a minute or two.

“Well, I think you could probably push it up so you could go in, say, seven or eight days, if you could afford fifty kay. Frankly, your size is working against you here.”

“Well, screw it. I’ll find some Panamanian bed warmer and just lay low for a while.” I joked, shaking my head. Dean was rolling his eyes. He was more likely to go looking that I was.