Read Online Fallen Palm (Jesse McDermitt Series) by Wayne Stinnett - Free Book Online
Authors: Wayne Stinnett
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on a thirty-five foot barge. On both sides of the canal were several large, round concrete bollards that looked like they could moor a battleship. The canal was straight as an arrow, going south-southeast, into the Atlantic about 250 yards away. There was a small turning basin at the docks where it was a good seventy feet across. Plenty enough to turn the Revenge around. “Man, I used to operate one just like this,” Jimmy said, pointing at the loader. “Tough piece of equipment and you can attach all kind of cool things in place of the scoop, even an auger.”
Looking at the loader, I was already thinking about my channel. “Once this storm passes, Jimmy, maybe Rusty’ll let me borrow that thing and you can come up to the house and help me out deepening and widening my channel.” Looking south down the canal, I said, “It’s rough out there but the Revenge can handle it with no problem. We can bring her all the way in here and then turn her around. I want her into the wind when we tie off.”
“Will this wind continue out of the south, during the whole storm,” Tony asked.
“I sure hope not, compadre,” Jimmy replied as we climbed in Rusty’s pickup bed. “Canes rotate anticlockwise. Say a cane’s coming right at you from the west. The wind’s gonna blow straight out of the south till it hits ya, gettin’ stronger and stronger as it gets closer and closer. Then POW! The eye hits and everything goes calm and serene, man. But once the eye passes over you, CRASH! The wind starts to blow from the opposite direction. But if it’s blowing slightly from the southwest early on, like it is now, that means the storm is going to pass north of you. The more westerly the wind, the further north it is. The wind’ll keep moving around the compass, blowing more westerly, then northwest, as it moves past. Just the opposite if it passes to your south.”
I looked at Jimmy and nodded, “We’ll tie the Revenge in the turning basin, with the bow facing southwest and hope you’re right, Jimmy. Any waves coming up the canal she’ll take on the port beam and the wind’ll move across the deck from the starboard beam, when the storm’s at it’s worst.”
8
Sunday evening, October 23, 2005
We arrived at the dock and climbed aboard the Revenge while Rusty and Julie drove on to the dinghy dock. I went to the helm and got the big diesels started, while Jimmy and our new crew set about untying the lines from the dock cleats. The three SEALS didn’t need any instruction at all, they seemed more at home on a boat than on land. Deuce joined me on the bridge and said, “Fine boat, Jesse. What’s she got for power?”
I studied Deuce for a second and thought, what the hell, he’s Russ’s kid. “A pair of Caterpillar C-18E diesels, rated at 1015 horsepower each,” I replied. “I normally don’t divulge that to just anyone, so I’d appreciate you not passing it along. Normally, the Rampage forty five convertible’s are powered by smaller engines, but this one had apparently been custom built for the drug trade. I bought it at a Coast Guard auction a couple years back. It’d been impounded in a drug bust.”
“You were a Gunny, right?” he asked.
How’d he know that, I wondered. I knew where he was going with it, though. The military isn’t the career choice for a person who hoped to get rich. “Yeah, I was,” I replied. “Just before I retired I inherited some stock holdings and land from my grandfather. Between this boat and a small island I bought up in the Content Keys, I had to sell off all the assets and dig deep into my savings. I think Pappy would have approved, though.”
“All set, Skipper!” Jimmy yelled from the cockpit.
Turning my back to the controls afforded me a good view of the stern of the boat against the dock. I put the wheel at the small of my back and nudged the controls into forward. Watching the stern until we were clear of the docks, I could steer slightly with my body, but
Looking at the loader, I was already thinking about my channel. “Once this storm passes, Jimmy, maybe Rusty’ll let me borrow that thing and you can come up to the house and help me out deepening and widening my channel.” Looking south down the canal, I said, “It’s rough out there but the Revenge can handle it with no problem. We can bring her all the way in here and then turn her around. I want her into the wind when we tie off.”
“Will this wind continue out of the south, during the whole storm,” Tony asked.
“I sure hope not, compadre,” Jimmy replied as we climbed in Rusty’s pickup bed. “Canes rotate anticlockwise. Say a cane’s coming right at you from the west. The wind’s gonna blow straight out of the south till it hits ya, gettin’ stronger and stronger as it gets closer and closer. Then POW! The eye hits and everything goes calm and serene, man. But once the eye passes over you, CRASH! The wind starts to blow from the opposite direction. But if it’s blowing slightly from the southwest early on, like it is now, that means the storm is going to pass north of you. The more westerly the wind, the further north it is. The wind’ll keep moving around the compass, blowing more westerly, then northwest, as it moves past. Just the opposite if it passes to your south.”
I looked at Jimmy and nodded, “We’ll tie the Revenge in the turning basin, with the bow facing southwest and hope you’re right, Jimmy. Any waves coming up the canal she’ll take on the port beam and the wind’ll move across the deck from the starboard beam, when the storm’s at it’s worst.”
8
Sunday evening, October 23, 2005
We arrived at the dock and climbed aboard the Revenge while Rusty and Julie drove on to the dinghy dock. I went to the helm and got the big diesels started, while Jimmy and our new crew set about untying the lines from the dock cleats. The three SEALS didn’t need any instruction at all, they seemed more at home on a boat than on land. Deuce joined me on the bridge and said, “Fine boat, Jesse. What’s she got for power?”
I studied Deuce for a second and thought, what the hell, he’s Russ’s kid. “A pair of Caterpillar C-18E diesels, rated at 1015 horsepower each,” I replied. “I normally don’t divulge that to just anyone, so I’d appreciate you not passing it along. Normally, the Rampage forty five convertible’s are powered by smaller engines, but this one had apparently been custom built for the drug trade. I bought it at a Coast Guard auction a couple years back. It’d been impounded in a drug bust.”
“You were a Gunny, right?” he asked.
How’d he know that, I wondered. I knew where he was going with it, though. The military isn’t the career choice for a person who hoped to get rich. “Yeah, I was,” I replied. “Just before I retired I inherited some stock holdings and land from my grandfather. Between this boat and a small island I bought up in the Content Keys, I had to sell off all the assets and dig deep into my savings. I think Pappy would have approved, though.”
“All set, Skipper!” Jimmy yelled from the cockpit.
Turning my back to the controls afforded me a good view of the stern of the boat against the dock. I put the wheel at the small of my back and nudged the controls into forward. Watching the stern until we were clear of the docks, I could steer slightly with my body, but
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