“I don't really know Dylan. I'm talking about Logan,” Bill said.
“You don't know Dylan and I don't know Logan,” Clay observed. “He seems a bit loosey goosey to me. Not at all serious.”
Bill laughed. “I was looking for you, Clay,” Bill said. “I hoped we'd talk over coffee. I have nothing planned today. It's just a ship making her way to its destination. We'll have more than enough activity, once we get to where we're going. It's southwest of Guam. You'll love it, Clay.”
“I love this ship. The view's astounding from up here,” Clay said.
“Compliments of Mr. Sinclair,” Bill said. “What about that coffee?”
“Hey, Rolf,” the captain said into the intercom. “I've got three unruly interlopers on the bridge. This calls for lots of coffee. Bring four cups and anything Greek has lying around in the line of cake or pastries. Make it five cups. You're invited too. Bridge out.”
“Like I was saying, Clay, we can sit up here and enjoy the view while we talk and have coffee too,” Bill said.
A few minutes later the five men were sitting in deck chairs, and the conversation flowed. Everything was ship shape. It was a few more days to Hawaii. The weather was clear, and it was expected to remain so. Storms could pop up any time, but the horizon showed no signs of trouble, and seas were moderately calm, as the ship moved west at a steady pace.
“Engine three, Klaus, what's the story?” Bill asked the captain.
“Appears to be electrical. They've talked to Honolulu and we'll be in port for two days. Won't cost us much time. I'll run all four engines and we'll be on site a day later than the original plan but I don't want to be out here with an engine problem. We need to attend to it.”
Logan sat next to Clay. He leaned to speak into Clay's ear.
“I noticed your son was sitting near the bow. I've had all the coffee I need for this week. Do you mind if I go forward and speak to Dylan? We haven't had a chance to chat alone yet.”
“No, I don't mind, Logan. He's pretty captivated by the view he has. He didn't want to talk when I was there, but go for it,” Clay said.
Logan stood.
“I find this fascinating company but I am going to get some air,” he said, moving toward the ladders that went to the main deck.
“Because I won't let you drive my ship, you don't need to go,” Captain Hertzog kidded as Logan smiled. “I want to see that gadget before you put it away.”
Clay got up, once Logan had time to get to where Dylan was sitting. He walked to the front of the bridge to watch.
Logan stood a few feet to Dylan's right, and he was speaking. Dylan was still leaning back, and he was looking up at Logan's face. After Logan finished speaking, Dylan said a few words. Logan smiled, and he turned to lean on the railing. He looked out at the ocean in front of them.
Dylan stood, moved to the bow, and he leaned next to Logan. They both stared into the slightly disturbed sea. For a few minutes one of them spoke, and than the other spoke. They always focused back on the sea.
Dylan wasn't exposed to many new people. When Dylan went with Clay on speaking engagements, he met people Clay was meeting. Dylan always stood back. Clay wasn't sure how Dylan would react to someone like Logan. Something about him was bothersome.
Clay went back to get his coffee, returning to the window.
Dylan stood back as Logan was making a sweeping motion with his left arm. He swept it across everything in front of them. It was obvious he was talking about a shot he had taken or perhaps was planning to take.
Dylan watched Logan. He was listening to what he had to say. Logan did the majority of the talking after that. By the way Dylan watched Logan's face Clay thought he was listening to every word. Maybe Logan would be able to hold Dylan's attention. Logan's flippancy would be a problem. Dylan was serious about photography. As soon as Logan stopped speaking, Dylan made the same motion with his left arm. Logan was nodding, and agreeing with whatever it was Dylan said. Dylan was smiling, and Logan was talking again. Clay was sure they were talking about photography. He wasn't sure Logan could teach Dylan anything.
He had been surprised by Logan's youthfulness. He'd gotten Bill's attention as a filmmaker and Clay respected him for that. For Bill to be sold on him it meant he had to be good but he was immature. Clay thought he'd be older. Closer to his age but he was still in his twenties.
Dylan would pick up on that. Clay and Ivan were associated with mostly older men. Logan didn't fit into that category. As they stood together Dylan could look Logan in the eye. They were the same size. His son had grown to be the size of some men. It's the first time Clay saw it from that perspective. Dylan was growing up.
Clay hadn't encouraged Dylan's fascination with photography. Ivan encourage Dylan to go further and to do more. That equaled things out. Clay wouldn't be one of those parents who said, “It's a nice hobby but how do you plan to make a living?”
Clay had followed his dream. He never had a conversation with his parents about what Harry or Bill told him. It was his life and he knew what he liked and he loved what he did. Here he was in the Pacific Ocean with a world class marine biologist to do research.
No matter what Clay had done as Dylan was growing up, his son wanted to be part of it. What Clay did was important. He wasn't wasting his time or stuck in a dead end job he hated. He was doing what he loved to do since he was fifteen. Dylan would turn fourteen while they were on this trip. The idea his son was smarter than him hadn't escaped his notice.
Clay wouldn't discourage Dylan from doing something he loved doing. He was already a good photographer and his picture taking was improving. He knew what he'd get when he clicked the shutter.
Clay was also aware of how many underwater pictures were being taken each year. Each year there were more underwater photographers, and more modern equipment for them to use. For every thousand people taking such pictures, maybe one was selling his pictures on a regular basis. Like music, acting, or even professional sports, few people who loved the activity they were trained to perform, made their living performing in that field.
Clay was an exception. He'd began working on the Gulf of Mexico when he was fifteen. At thirty-three he was making his living working on the Gulf. Dylan had an advantage over other photographers. Dylan's father worked in the field Dylan wanted to photograph. He just might make photography his career.
As long as Dylan wanted to take photographs on the Gulf or under it, Clay would see to it that he could. On the bridge of the Horizon in mid Pacific, that's what Clay decided he would do.
It was a beautiful day and there were fair seas ahead, and Dylan was having a conversation with a professional filmmaker. How important that filmmaker's influence would be to Dylan's development remained in question.
Bill stood and move toward the windows that dominated the front of the bridge. He stood next to Clay drinking coffee. Clay wasn't aware of Bill being there. He was seeing Dylan at a distance. He was standing toe to toe with a grown man. They were talking casually as if they were well acquainted.
“Looks like Dylan and Logan have hit it off nicely,” Bill said.
“Yes, it does. Dylan doesn't take to strangers easily. I mean how many strangers are there around the cove, and when we're there, he's either with Ivan or me.”
“They have something in common. Dylan knows Logan is a filmmaker. Logan knows Dylan has an interest in making films.”
“What did you tell him about Dylan?” Clay asked.
“Just what I said. He's a serious young man who has an interest in making movies of his father,” Bill said. “Logan teaches photography. I don't imagine he has any trouble relating to aspiring young filmmakers.”
“He's quite a young man,” Bill said.
“It's hard to see them grow up. I've always thought of Dylan as my little boy. Someone I'm protecting from the harshness around us. He's hardly little and I'm not as sure of his future as I'd like to be,” Clay revealed.
“How'd you come up with that?” Bill asked with a chuckle. “Logan's an original. It's what got my attention. He's free spirited. He doesn't take life as seriously as we do, Clayton.”
“I noticed that. The idea was for him to teach my son something about taking motion pictures,” Clay said. “I'm not sure he'll be good for Dylan because he doesn't seem all that serious. Dylan is a serious young man.”
“Ivan told me you'd fight the idea of an outsider having an influence on Dylan's education. My advise to you, Clayton, stand back and let things unfold. If my instincts are correct, you're going to be a fan of Logan Warren by the time the trip ends.”
“Your instincts and mine are saying totally different things, Bill,” Clay said, looking at his mentor before looking back toward Dylan. “I'm simply not sold on Logan Warren.”
“Have it your way. I'm not about to tell a man how to raise his son. Logan is an artist. Dylan has decided he wants to become one. You are going to need to adapt to that. It isn't like being a scientist.”
Clay knew Bill had more exposure to the world around him than he had. He'd been relatively secluded at the cove for nearly two decades. He traveled to Fort Myers to go to college but he went home to his austere mid-western parents each night.
They'd only moved to the house next to the Gulf because they'd run out of option. That move took Clay to the Gulf of Mexico and Ivan Aleksa, the two most important discoveries in his life.
From the first time he saw the Gulf of Mexico he was drawn to it. The same was true of Ivan. He was a magnet Clay couldn't resist.
Clay traveled on speaking engagements. He did what he could to spread his message, more an alert on the condition of the world's waterways. Clay went one day and he tried to be home the next day. When Dylan wasn't in school, he'd been going along with his father on his speaking engagements. Once, Clay took Dylan out of school to go.
Only going to Washington kept Clay for two or three days. He appeared before Harry's environmental subcommittee but there were always meetings and other politicians who wanted to meet him.
Knowing how important that was to Harry, Clay didn't mind staying an extra day or two. He flew to DC on the twin engine Apache Harry was selling him. Having a plane made the trip to DC tolerable. After such a visit, he'd be home in a matter of hours. At times he was able to fly to a speaking engagement and be home by midnight.
Clay would not take Dylan along to Washington. He didn't like politicians. They had more faces than Mount Rushmore and they'd tell you whatever you would like to hear. Exposing Dylan to such people wasn't going to happen. Senator Harry McCallister was a different breed and it was Harry who paid for Clay's education.
He was as dedicated to improving the environment as Clay was and Clay admired him for that. He worked for Harry and most of what he had was because of Harry.
They were equals in their concerns for the environment.
Harry had a reason for being in DC other than a lust for power and greed.
Bill brought Clay back from his wandering mind.
“Clayton! Once you see Logan's work, you'll have a high regard for his talent. He's dead serious when he has a motion picture camera in his hands. He's dedicated to being the best filmmaker he can be. Dylan can learn a lot from him. Be patient and you'll see that.”
“It's what he might learn from Mr. Warren that worries me. I'm not as sold on Mr. Warren as you are, Bill. I will not discourage Dylan's film making aspirations. I might, however, limit his access to Logan Warren, if I believe it's in his best interest to do so.”
Bill knew when Clay decided on something it was difficult to change his mind. A Midwestern upbringing made Clay cautious. He had to see things for himself. They had six weeks together. It was enough time for him to get to know Logan. From what he'd observed, Dylan had no reservations about Logan. He sensed Logan had something to teach him and Dylan would help his father see that.
Looking out of the bridge's massive windows at a scene as spectacular as any he'd seen gave Clay butterflies. He was in the mid Pacific. He'd dreamed about it without the expectation of experiencing it and here he was.
The Gulf of Mexico was his beat. How would he ever find time to see the Pacific Ocean?
All things in their own time, Clay thought as he stood beside his teacher and mentor.
Refocusing on Dylan, he was leaning on the starboard side railing, Logan was leaning beside him and he was still talking. They spoke casually and he could tell Dylan was listening. He seemed to be comfortable talking to a man he didn't know.
Their posture said it all. One talked and than waited for the other one to talk. Their forearms touched. They both looked relaxed. It wasn't like Dylan to take so quickly to a stranger, but how often was Dylan around anyone he didn't know?
Was Logan a stranger? Dylan knew who Logan Warren was before embarking on this journey. In Dylan's mind, he was invited to go along to learn about film making from Logan Warren. His expectations were formed before he left the house.
This was an opportunity for him to learn from a man who was a professional filmmaker. Since it was Dylan's ambition to become a filmmaker at this time and he was seeing Logan as his teacher,Clay didn't need to like him for Dylan to learn some tricks of the trade from him. That would be fine.
Breaking his focus away from the bow of the ship, Clay moved back to the deck chair beside Bill. He sipped from his coffee cup. Finding it too cold he got up to add hot coffee from the pot conveniently placed on the bridge. He brought the pot back and added coffee to each cup that was held out to him. He returned to his seat once he was finished.
Clay looked at Bill and he thought about where he was. He thought all along that he was about to have the best summer of his life. Working with his college professor was more exciting than anything he'd done in years. Doing it in the Pacific enhanced the experience by ten fold. This was how great adventures began.
It was hard for him to imagine he'd be doing in the Pacific the same things he did in the Gulf. Bill knew more than almost any marine biologist did about the conditions of the world's seas.
As their eyes met, Bill patted Clay's arm fondly.
“I didn't think we'd ever get to do this,” Bill said. “You don't know how happy it makes me that you are here. I trust your judgment more than any other student I've taught, Clayton. You know that. It's why I wanted you involved with what I'm doing.”
“I've been excited since you asked me to come. I'll be able to take everything I learn back to the Gulf with me. That's exciting, Bill. Seeing the Pacific, gaining knowledge about this body of water, It's almost too exciting for words.”
“When I first saw it, and I've seen the Pacific before, I realized I would be studying it. It made me weak in the knees. I've studied the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf for years, but this was the Pacific. This was the mother of all oceans,” Bill said with reverence.
“Mr. Sinclair's gift to my university will enhance the knowledge we have about the Pacific and everything in it. We'll learn her secrets. His gift, a bolt from the blue, will have significance that will extend far beyond the next century, Clay. What we are learning will redirect man's effort to make the earth a cleaner and safer place to live.”
“You are more confident about that than I am, Bill. I see more pollution every day. Some days I wonder if man is capable of cleaning up after himself. In spite of all my efforts, all my speeches, each year it gets worse,” Clay said, thinking he'd said enough.
He wasn't going to say things to make the trip less enjoyable.
“But we're here to see to it that it stops getting worse. This is too exciting for words. Thank you for inviting me along. I can't wait to get under water in that gadget that's housed below the bridge.”
“Our submersible is the thing that will give you a view that you've never had before. We can sit in the water for hours, never move, and sea creatures will abound around us. It's miraculous, Clay.”
“Stop it, Bill or I'll make you stop this ship to take me on a ride.”
“No chance of that. Once we get on the site we're heading for, we'll have all the time you want to play in nature's bathtub,” Bill said. Bill was as enthusiastic as Clay had ever seen him.
“Taking the submersible into the depths is the most exciting thing I've ever done, Clay. You won't believe how the underwater world comes alive. It's like you're inside a fishbowl. Sea creatures are curious. They come to investigate. If you remember your first dive, it's that overpowering. It is truly another world, Clay. You'll love it.”
“I can't wait,” Clay said, making a mental note to look at the submersible before Captain Hertzog put her away.
“And you'll see it in luxury from a vessel created for comfort as well as scientific discovery. Mr. Warren will film it and audiences around the world will see what you have to show them,” Captain Hertzog said. “They see what is happening in a world they've never been exposed to before.”
“You're probably a bit prejudiced on that, Klaus,” Bill said.
Captain Hertzog laughed.
“I was once as ignorant as the rest of the world. Now that I understand what's being done to my glorious seven seas, I want everyone to know. I want everyone to see what is happening.”
Bill applauded.
“That commercial was brought to you in memory of John Sinclair. A man who may have been oblivious to what working men do but he knew he was responsible for some of the world's destruction. During his days as an industrialist he watched the world gearing up to run at full speed ahead. He dedicated this ship to undo some of the harm he did during his heyday. If only other industrialists were as aware as Mr. Sinclair about their responsibility for the earth's decay, that would be a truly great day,” Captain Hertzog said.
“Men do learn, Klaus. You're living proof of man's ability to evolve. It isn't a matter of men not being able to learn. They choose ignorance over truth. That way they can deny responsibility for the mess they make. Cleaning up after themselves costs money, Money they stuff in one of their bank accounts,” Bill said.
“It's an impressive ship,” Clay said. “Its captain is impressive.”
“It's enough to make me forgive John Sinclair's shortcomings,” Bill said. “I admit, the comfort makes work easier,” Bill said.
“Not only comfort but reliability too. You'll never watch as someone tosses the Horizon a tow line to get her into port. I don't think there's a better prepared ship. We are unsinkable and virtually unbreakable,” Captain Hertzog bragged.
“Engine three, Klaus?” Bill asked, concern evident in his voice.
“It's a perfect example of our readiness. We can run fine on two engines and running four engines is a luxury few ships have. If we should lose engines one and two, we can shut them down and employ engines three and four,” the captain said proudly.
“Not now you can't, Klaus,” Bill said. “I'm not arguing that Horizon isn't a fine ship. I've been around long enough to know that mechanical things break and no matter how prepared you are, it won't matter a whit when you do break. I'd like engine three to be working before we leave Hawaii.”
“I remember the Titanic was unsinkable,” Clay said.
“A relic of a bygone era. We have radar and sonar. At the time of the Titanic they believed in a captain's ability to avoid accidents.
They believed the builder's hype about her being unsinkable. Icebergs didn't usually get down into the shipping lanes. There was little knowledge available that told a captain that an iceberg was larger under water than it appeared to be on top of the water. It took many unpredictable circumstances to sink the Titanic,” the captain said. “It is like comparing apples to oranges. Most ships are safer today because of technology. On her maiden voyage the captain may not have been aware that icebergs sometimes came into that area of the North Atlantic. The men on watch were certainly ignorant of the fact.”
“I'm confident we'll see few icebergs on this voyage,” Rolf said. “Nonetheless, I wouldn't oversell the Horizon, if I were you, Pop.”
“I'm merely stating facts,” Captain Hertzog said. “There are exceptions to everything. Nothing is true all the time.”
“Believing the hype, Klaus,” Bill said.
Everyone laughed but Captain Hertzog. It was his ship.
“Let's agree we are blessed with great comfort and smooth seas,” Rolf said, sounding unsettled by his father's confidence.
Engine three failed. It wasn't a big deal if you had three working engines, but engine fours operation depended on engine three. They worked in tandem, as engines one and two worked in tandem. If engine three couldn't fire, engine four wouldn't fire.
“Here, here,” Bill said, raising his cup of coffee to drink to it.
Captain Hertzog stood to walk toward the wheel. He looked well out ahead of the ship. He checked each gauge, looking at the barometer for a long minute. Then he looked toward where Clay last saw Dylan and Logan. He looked out ahead of the ship again. He could feel a change in the air around his ship.
Clicking on the four monitors, Captain Hertzog kept his eye on the monitor that gave him the view to the rear for longer than he looked at the other three. After one more quick check of both sides, he shut the monitors off and he returned to sit among his passengers.
Rolf stood up and walked into the inside passageway.
Captain Hertzog reached for the ship's log and began writing.
Clay got up to check on Dylan but he was no longer on the bow. Clay sat back down and sipped his coffee.
“What do you talk about with Ivan?” Clay asked Bill.
“Cameras mostly. You. He talks about Dylan's talent. Did you know that Ivan wanted to be a photographer. Maybe not as a profession, but he wanted to learn about photography,” Bill said.
“He told you that?” Clay asked. “He may have said something when we were younger.”
“He did. When he got Dylan the first camera, if Dylan hadn't been interested, Ivan was going to use the camera. Of course Dylan was more interested than he could have guessed,” Bill said. “Ivan's mother wouldn't let him get a camera. Sounds like a hard woman.”
“She was. Hated the house by the Gulf. Adored Ivan's brother. Ivan spent summers with his grandfather. He left Ivan the house.
Nick, Ivan's father, didn't get along with his father. Ivan adored him.”
“I remember Nick took Boris' disappearance hard. I remember hearing about Nick's father from Harry. Harry made him sound like quite a man. Larger than life. I can see how Ivan would be drawn to him. Ivan is like his grandfather in some ways,” Bill said. “He doesn't seem to get small ideas. He goes whole hog or not at all.”
“Isn't that the truth,” Clay said. “He thought he could go to Southeast Asia and get his missing brother. He thought he could make a money making enterprise out of that dump of a cove.”
“Those certainly were big ideas,” Bill said. “As I recall, he did both of those things.”
“Yes, he did. I've never seen anything Ivan couldn't do once he put his mind to it. He never studied in school. Got an A in everything but basket weaving,” Clay said. “He went out for basketball one year. Wanted to see if he could make the team. When ever the school was in a close game, the ball went to Ivan at half court and he'd launch the ball from there. Swish! Our team won. Who would even take a shot like that? He not only took the shot, he made it half the time.”
“You aren't serious?” Bill asked.
“I certainly am. The weirdest part, if it was a home game and if we were behind by a point or if the score was tied, as soon as Ivan ran onto mid court after the time out, the students chanted, “Ivan! Ivan! Ivan! The ball went to Ivan. Swish. He hit the basket dead center. I don't know how he did it. He's got nerves of steel.”
“What happened to basketball then?” Bill asked.
“He played one season. Wanted to see if he could do it. He did it. He didn't go out for the team after that. We started fishing with his father that summer. We had to be fifteen to go with his father,” Clay said. “Ivan couldn't wait to be fifteen. I went fishing with him and you know the rest of the story.”
“I do. Ivan worked for his father rather than play basketball. Extraordinary,” Bill said. “Ivan loved Nick but both his mother and his father thought Boris was the best thing since sliced bread.”
“The most excited I'd ever seen his parents was after Ivan brought Boris home. They adored Ivan for fifteen minutes. They were too busy adoring Boris and his Cambodian family after that. I never got that. The Boris that came home was not the Boris that went to Vietnam. He doesn't remember his past. He thinks he's Cambodian.”
“I don't remember Boris,” Bill said. “I remember Ivan and you were always together when I first met you. Then Ivan was gone.”
“Don't remind me. I'm hungry. What time is it?” Clay asked.
Captain Hertzog looked at his watch.
“Sixteen minutes after noon,” he said.
“You think lunch is ready?” Bill asked. “I'm starving.”
“Only one way to find out,” Clay said. “Captain, we're going to go to the galley. Would you like us to bring you something?”
“No thank you,” Captain Hertzog said. “I'm keeping my eye on barometer at the moment. It's fallen a bit in the last hour. I don't want to sail into a blow if I can help it. I'll join you in a few minutes. Rolf will be back from making rounds. Dolf's in the engine room lending a hand. I'll join you in a few minutes.”
Clay followed Bill into the inside passageway but when he asked to see the pod, they turned toward the deck.