Chapter 87

It took two days to run the Canal. It wasn't safe for a little sailboat to stay in the channel at night. One thousand foot long ships ... playing ping pong with the K5?

"Nope," said Grace, "Not on my watch."

I agreed, not on my watch either.

As a quasi-military ship (it is to laugh ... haha) we didn't have to pay. Except for the pilot. He put moves on Grace and she threw him overboard. Of course, he denied it. Witnesses from the smallish Japanese commercial ship that locked through with us soon stopped that.

Panama wanted to keep us for a trial but I pointed to the Blue Field 48 at the masthead. The United States does lease the canal in perpetuity (like ... forever) and the Navy has first dibs for passage. That will change ... my first life was there when Mr. Peanut promised to give it back. Mr. Peanut was Prime Minister Chamberlain before the war... Don't make waves ... It's always America's fault ... give 'em anything they want.

I just Know he was a do over.

So we took on a Navy pilot and he guided us through ... still took two days ... two long days. We were assigned the Toyo Maru to be our traveling partner. We went through the locks together, we anchored overnight together, we stayed together during the long passages. Eight knots is the law in the canal. If you can't keep up there's a big fine.

The VHF radio ... we had three ... in continuous contact with the assorted military bases alerted us to a message from Ann Arbor.

"The girls called. Are you selling the houses? Have you sold the house in Berkeley?

Can we come visit with the intent to transfer? Call? We really miss you guys. Anet, Brigid and Keirstan."

"Rodman, K5. Rodman, K5."

"K5, Rodman."

"Rodman. Is there a phone connection to the States?"

"K5, affirmative. State your name, rank and number."

"Rodman. Lieutenant Commander Austin, Grace. Michigan, Ann Arbor, P as in Paul, S as in Sierra, 5555."

"K5. Radio telephone connection in five. Rodman, out."

This was great ... they did all the work and we just talked.

I heard both sides because the radio speaker wasn't private.

"Grace? David?"

"We're here, Anet. What's up?"

"We're lonely. Where are you?"

"We're just leaving the Canal Zone. We miss you too."

"Did you sell the Chilton street house?"

"No."

"Can we come live with you?"

"All of you?"

"Except Arnie, he's building bikes. He's on number 550."

"We don't know how big or anything."

"The Librarian here lived in your house while she was in school. She said there were five women renting rooms. It's a pretty big house. Please?"

"You work out the transfer and we'll come get you in the Beech, better hurry."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. We love you guys."

"As soon as we get to San Fran and finish out our Carrier Quals, we'll come get you."

"Ok."

"Pack your stuff and ship it. The Beech won't carry much."

"We will, thanks Grace. Bye."

"Bye Anet," Grace threw the switch. "What are you looking at, sailor?"

The Navy Canal Transit pilot was bug eyed. "Umh? Officers? Honest?"

Grave nodded.

"Ma'am. You never said," he gulped. "I've been treating you like you were some admiral's rotten kids. Am I in trouble?"

"Not at all, First. We don't flaunt it ... well ... except with the asshole Panamanian idiot. He knew we were officers and still acted like God's gift," Grace said. "You didn't know and were all business. We will speak your praises to your division officer."

"That should be interesting. He's a JayGee."

Grace said, "David? Short pants snow suit ... soon as you're ready, come up. I'll change."

So I ran down and switched out of jeans and tee shirt and whited up. Grace is right, I feel like a blizzard in my whites. I picked up enough sun coming down to make the whites REALLY white.

"Your turn, Commander." I saluted her, she saluted back ... she was wearing a little beanie ... I was covered.

"Sir? She ranks you?"

"Yes, First. One day," I sighed. "I know it's hard to believe but ... we're twins and I'm older ... fifteen minutes. But I was before midnight and she was after, so we're different days. I've never let her forget I'm older ... now she ranks me."

"She picks on you about it, Sir.?"

"No ... and I wish she would."

"Why?"

"Because he knows I will ... some day," said Grace. She twinkled.

Whites, deep maroon hair and blue eyes. Grace is a picture. She twisted her hair up in a bun, stuck a pin in it, covered and asked, "I look ok?"

I twirled a finger ... she struck a pose and slowly turned. Whites are cotton, She wears hers with a camisol. With the sun at her back and her marvelous tan? Oh, Yeah! Grace is a babe.

I know. As soon as we're out of sight, she'll be sunning on a beach towel on the foredeck ... wearing the clothes she was born in ... and I'll be pilot and the radar watcher ... trying to pay attention to what I'm doing.

The JayGee was speechless, I wish.

"But you're just a couple of kids."

"That would be, you're just a couple of kids, Sir."