A New Old Watch. 9th in the STOPWATCH Series
Chapter 36

Copyright© 2013 by Old Man with a Pen

Due to the way the Canadian Coast Guard was operated, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police Man (Mountie, remember Sergeant Preston of The Yukon? They really do dress like that.) (And not like Duddly Doright of the Bullwinkle Show.) took out his 'Occurrence Book' and began writing everything down. Almost immediately there arose a problem.

"Registration, please."

"I'll fetch it," replied David. He went below. Soon, there was the sounds of drawers opening and a modicum of muttered cursing. A lot of "Where is it?" and "What the fuck did she do with it?" and similar explosions of wrathful questions preceded a heartfelt sigh ... Silence.

Very soon, David hollered at Andrea, "Andrea!"

"You bastard!"

"Sorry."

She staggered to her cabin hatch. "What?" she croaked.

"Where's the registration?"

"I have no idea. What did you do with it?"

"I didn't do anything with it."

"You did register the boat." Not a question.

"No."

"Why not?"

"You're the owner ... it's your job."

"Nobody told me. You're the captain."

The mountie stepped down from the wheel. "Registration?"

David pointed at Andrea ... Andrea pointed at David.

"Right." He wrote in his book, "No registration."

"Bill of sale?"

"I have it," said Andrea.

"May I see it?"

"I don't know what I did with it." By now Andie was moaning.

"Hmm," said the Mountie.

"Look," said David, "She's still under the affects of the medicinal emergency. Could we let her sleep and do this tomorrow?"

"I don't know, you promise to stay here until we get this straightened out?"

"I promise I'll leave the boat here, I might have to go to Port Huron," said David.

"???"

"Looking for registration numbers is not something I would normally do. I never noticed they were gone."

"Oh, there's numbers ... but you don't look like Jonas Smith ... owner of record," said the Mountie.

"Yup ... he's the former owner, all right," agreed David. "How do you know that?"

The Mountie pointed aft. David craned his neck and looked out the hatch. The guardsman in charge of the Forty Four tootled his fingers at David. He held up a microphone.

"Oh," said David.

"You didn't actually think I was going to come aboard without knowing all I could?"

"Hope springs eternal," quoted David.

"And is dashed on the rocks of facts," said the Mountie.

"I'm going to bed," said Andrea. The wake of a passing freighter caused the Kings Knight to rock, she 'erped', slapped her hand over her mouth and fled for the nearest basin.

"Contagious?" asked the Mountie.

"Only if you have a taste for Vodka and cranberry juice," said David. "And don't normally drink."

"Ah ... medicinal emergency," the Mountie said. "It all makes sense, you had to get her off the lake."

He folded up his occurrence book. "I'll be back on the third of September. Think you can be organized by then?" He looked hopeful.

"Make it the fifth."

"Ah yes ... nothing official runs on Labor Day Weekend across the river. You could register her Canadian. No? The fifth of September then. I imagine there'll be fines. I'd be exchanging before you pay. The Court says a dollar is a dollar."

With that cryptic message, the Mountie presented his card.

"Preston, Sergeant Preston ... Royal Canadian Mounted Police." He tipped his hat and stepped out of the boat and on to the deck of the Forty Four. "Nice boat." The guardsman backed and turned, as they passed down the side of the Knight, Preston said, "Ashore ... I'd get her ashore ... and Dramamine."

The American Coast Guardsman was, of course, a woman.

"Where's the boat?"

"Sarnia."

"How did you get here from there?"

"Water Taxi."

"We need to inspect the boat."

"Come on over."

"Here."

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"You need to check her where she is." David said. "Can't you come to us?"

"That's an interesting question. I'll be right back." She headed back to an office behind her counter. She rapped on the frame and entered... "Chief..." she closed the door.

David wandered around picking up brochures and pamphlets that were free and checked the selection of area charts ... which weren't free. He listed several for the area and farther along their prospective route.

"He'll be right out," she said as she came out of the office.

"I need these charts too." He squinted at her, "I suppose I can get east coast charts farther along?"

"We have a complete selection."

"I'll take two of everything. Got Hawaii?"

"Yes."

"Throw those in." David asked gleefully, "How about Pacific Islands?"

"Just American possessions ... they're older charts."

"How old?"

"The war."

"Those too."

"Great, I was getting ready to pitch them," she said. "Canal Zone?"

 
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