Chapter 20

I said, "Here's the deal. We can do 4 on 4 off, 8 on 8 off or some weird combination. We have three days to go 180 miles. After three days the weather becomes disturbed."

"What does 'disturbed' mean?" Grace asked.

"It means they don't know ... Saturday is going to be rough ... but not dangerous," I said, "CPO Olsen suggests on Saturday we head straight across to Frankfort, the wind will be on the quarter. I am assuming he wants us to harbor jump. Stay within a mile or two of shore and gunk hole our way down."

Olsen ahemed, "That's not what I said." He saluted, "Permission to come aboard."

He wasn't saluting us ... the flag was on the fantail ... he was saluting that.

Niels was kind of surprised. "I guess, come ahead on." Not exactly nautical but good enough.

CPO Olsen boarded, he set a smallish ditty bag on deck. "I have leave coming and I'd like to join this menagerie for the trip down and back. I promise I'll stay out of the way."

"Nope," I said, "If you're riding you're driving. Otherwise get off," Grace and I broke into gales of laughter, "Captain."

"I see, getting free lessons, ya think?"

Niels said, "I'll pay you five hundred dollars to run us down to Chicago." He put out a hand, Olsen spit in his.

"Swede are you?" Niels asked. With the nod, Niels spit in his hand and they shook.

Then they broke into that gargle and spit Mr. Sorensen and daddy called a language.

Pretty damn quick Chief Olsen was sticking tanks and checking the holding. "David, Grace ... single up to a spring," and he was surprised when we did.

"We're going to the bait shop dock to pump and fuel. Grace! When we're tied off, run up to the Mercantile and pick up my order. David! As soon as we're away from the pier, switch the fenders to port ... I'm going to back down so we've a straight on shot for the Channel. Look sharp. Grace ... the spring line ... try and keep it out of the water."

It was beautiful ... the difference between a competent amateur and a thoroughgoing professional ... well, there's no comparison. Chief Olsen blipped the throttle, did amazing things with the wheel, the stern swung out and he parallel parked that seventy-seven foot boat in one pass ... backwards. Grace and I barely had time to swap sides with the fenders.

"Nick! Pump out! John! #1 diesel. David, Sway up sail bags three, five and seven. Seven is in the stern locker. Niels ... choose ... sail locker or winch."

"Winch! David show me..."

I explained the halliards "Don't let the rope run free. It's pure hell to get it back to the top of the mast. Got gloves?"

"In my bag."

"Chief! ... gloves please, two pair."

He brought then and gave me a look.

"I know ... I wasn't planning on this happening so fast."

"Mr. Sorensen. When you're not using them, keep those gloves tucked in your waistband. If you need them and you don't have 'em, we can't wait. Those gloves might be the difference between living or not. If you need them you won't have time to look ... you might tear your hands to rags but when a line must be hauled..." I let it go at that.