Chapter 26

Lessons all the way back. Since the boat was taller than the clearance at the tollbridge they had made both directions in the shipping channel ... well ... next to it. Little boats don’t play well with big ones.

The shipping benefits from continuous dredging but a considerable portion of travel traverses the river on the Canadian side ... east of Fighting Island. There is a narrow cut just east of Stony Island. The United States and Canada have similar navigation rules. Drive on the right, yield to the right ... but ... stay out of the way of oncoming traffic. Lakers and salties are slow to stop and slow to turn.

And monitor the shipping radio channel. Disasters aren’t disasters if one pays attention.

The small boat pier is the domain of the cutter. The Chief parks his Van ON the concrete ... David, Bethanne and Genevieve have been known to park there ... nobody else.

Remember when the Chief said, “There will be a test?”

After the principals drove away ... Roberts handed Gen a recent copy of The Bluejacket’s Manual.

“Study that.”

“When I have time,” Gen said.

“What do you do?”

“School started three weeks ago. I have no problem keeping up ... but.”

Roberts head came up on the ‘but’.

“I’m working on my new car.”

“Wait ... new car?”

Genevieve pointed at her motorcycle engined car, “Like that one ... only powered by a different ... gokart or lawn mower engine ... and just a little smaller.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask ... there are several little cars here on the island ... where did they buy them?”

“Can’t buy one ... if you have one you built it.”

She paused... “from scratch.”

“Where...?”

“You know the base machine shop?”

“I know there used to be one.”

“The one in the Eighty Acre Wood?”

“No ... the shop in Hangar D,” Roberts said. He pointed at the concrete under the trees.

Hangar D was where they used to store and work on the seaplanes. Even the ramp was gone. After the 1968 fire it was never rebuilt. The concrete pier where the Cape Class Cutter tied up was all that was left as evidence of the former seaplane part of the greater base.

“Wait ... there’s a shop in the woods?”

Genevieve enthused, “Eighty thousand square feet of machines, materials and scrap. It’s wonderful ... and so much fun.”

“In the woods?”

“Uh huh.”

“Show me.”

Roberts jumped in his command car and headed north on Seaplane Road, Gen followed to the Quarry turn. There was a teenincy argument about the Quarry access. Gen lost. Chief Roberts led to the East River Road. Now she knew where she was. Gen led from there ... When she turned left on Rucker, Roberts was right behind her ... when she turned right on to the Bike-Hike-Runners trail next to Meridian he balked. Gen circled around and pulled up to the drivers door.

“Come on ... they’re used to us.”

And it was true. The pedestrians kept out of the way.

The Bike-Hike-Runners trail winds in and out of the forest border. When Gen turned right off the trail, Roberts balked again. It looked for all the world that she ran into a tree. But there wasn’t one. Painted green concrete with huge trees arching over making a tunnel that led deeper into the woods. She stopped, parked and told him to follow her. They walked on the road a couple hundred yards and the fence and guard tower showed.

“Oh my god ... I had no idea.”

Passing through the berm the noise increased and the ‘WHAT HAPPENS HERE STAYS HERE’ door was next. The next sign read, ‘You make pencils for the war effort.’. Gen opened the door and the noise of several retired highly skilled machinists assailed their ears.

Chief Roberts goggled.

Tiny cartoon copies of early 20th century racecars were being constructed. A couple of single cylinder engines were adding to the din.

Gen kept going.

The Wayback ... Gen’s domain. It was much quieter here. Gen’s latest creation was sitting on a bench ... the body panels were trial fit and Roberts was beyond words.