Chapter 58

It was sudden ... and I wasn’t expecting it. In fact, it left me breathless.

I wasn’t happy. Very big surprise. I wasn’t happy.

I have money ... tons. I have youth.

I have my Grandmother’s body and her voice. I’m ... well ... Surprise might be more beautiful ... but I don’t know anybody my age ... maybe that’s it ... Alice is a year older ... half a year she’s two older ... Gawd! I’m a mess. I’m not thinking clearly.

The local buses have no bike racks ... you either ride the bus or you ride your bicycle ... can’t do both. But ... the bus will take you where you want to go. None of that FedA bull crap... we’ll get you to within a mile of where you want to go.. We left our bikes under the eagle eye of Corporal Mali.

The OTHER thing ... wave a bus down ... even in the middle of a block ... and they will STOP. Tell the driver your destination and they will let you off at the door ... and no time schedule ... catch as catch can. But there are many buses early and late. The cost? Seventy five cents a trip ... thirty eight cents students ... FIJI.

The bus took us to the devastation that is called the mooring ball field. The one eighty was mostly above water ... mostly. I could see the first row of port lights ... still had glass in ‘em.

The sad thing was the new Fountaine Pajot Samana 59 on the foredeck ... up-side down. That added a whole new dimension to the word, SALVAGE.

Paid for but uninsured. Four and a half million dollars ... sitting on top of an 18 million dollar boat.

All in... 498 wrecked boats in the Republic of Fiji. There were 98 visible ‘distressed’ yachts in the mooring basin ... so saith the Harbour Authority. Most of them were tightly packed against the north west shore.

“Come to see your boat?” She was dressed in the scarlet blouse and white skirt uniform of the Fiji Army ... and she couldn’t have been older than 20.

“No ... my boat is in Michigan ... Princessapality.”

“Ah ... the ‘upstart country,’” she said.

“Guard duty?” I asked. “Nice outfit.”

“Looter watch. The REMF’s wanted to be sure we were visible.” She chuckled. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard about the one eighty and thought I might have a look,” I said.

Alice said, “Salvage ... you were thinking about salvage.”

“Salvage? As in buying it and refloating?” asked the guard.

“Yeah ... looks a lot harder than my last one.”

“Done it before?”

“Yes,” said Alice. “Good job, too. My parents live on it.”

I said, “The one eighty no longer interests me, who owns the deck cargo?”

“The what?”

“The Fountaine Pajot.”

“Deck cargo ... very funny.” She laughed, “The Republic owns it.”

It hadn’t been insured ... uninsured wrecks were confiscated.

“Who do I see about having a look inside?”

“Harbor Master,” she said. “It’ll cost you. Unless you have your own boat.”

“Daddy has a Highfield with a Yamaha 9.6.”

After the return ... the cajole and the harass, Daddy’s first words upon seeing the Samana 59 were, “But ... it’s so little.”

And I said, “It’s smaller than Surprises Basilisk.”

“If nothing else ... smaller than her sisters boat will do it,” Daddy said. “Buy it.”

Negotiations with the local crane company commenced immediately.

“It’s not in the water ... it’s just upside down on the deck of another wreck.”

They came and looked.

“This one is easy,” the owner said. “For another grand we’ll grab the mast and rigging.”

One thing nobody had thought about...

With the weight of the fifty nine foot catamaran off the foredeck ... the 180 floated.

The crane snatched it ... held it up and their diesel pumps drained it.