As most of the crew and the research team slept, the Horizon was at the mercy of the storm. Without power Captain Hertzog couldn't steer the ship to make it easier on the people aboard. He did what he could for as long as it was necessary.
Ten minutes later, engines one and two came on as the bridge became brightly lit. It was too early for Captain Hertzog to count his blessings. He'd do that in a few minutes, if the electricity stayed on. He was hoping that two would be the charm in this case.
“Thank God,” Captain Hertzog said ten minutes later after he'd steered the Horizon back to her north by northwesterly course and away from the center of the storm.
Captain Hertzog began checking the instruments. He spent some time watching the radar to acclimate himself to how the storm was moving in relationship to the Horizon. He made the course correction necessary to keep his ship on an even keel.
A report would be forthcoming and he'd know what he needed to know once it came. For now, he'd be thankful for the power.
He'd begun breathing easier when the electricity held and engines one and two purred away. Even the impact of the storm lessened as they continued north by northwest. The storm continued moving north by north east and the biggest part of the blow was now east and south of the Horizon's position.
He was able to maintain fifteen knots once the effects of the storm lessened. They'd made no headway for several hours but that meant arriving in Honolulu an hour or two later than he expected. All in all the storm was no more than an unpleasant inconvenience.
Captain Hertzog stared into the darkness as the clouds were parting. As clear skies replaced the blackness of night, a billion stars were visible from the bridge in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The captain lowered the intensity of the lights on the bridge to be able to appreciate the starry starry night.
The beauty of the night often replaced a passing storm. While watching the stars replace the darkness, he heard someone emerge from the inside passageway behind him.
Even in the lowered light, he could see Sidney Peacock's reflection in the bridge's abundant glass.
“It never ceases to amaze me how beautiful the night is once we pass through a storm. How many stars can we see, Sidney?”
“Below deck? I don't see any,” Sidney Peacock said.
“I'm a hopeless romantic, Sidney, and you are a practical man. You're going to tell me we'll have clear sailing with no more mechanical difficulties, am I right?” Captain Hertzog said.
“I can make you no promises, Captain. For the time being all systems are working properly. They should hold until we get to Honolulu, but I should be sitting on a beach in Tahiti with a half dozen fair maidens tending to my every need, Klaus.”
“I'm afraid I was a bit too busy to notice the sequences of events as they were taking place. The helm is still not quite ready to answer my commands swiftly. but the seas are calming at present,” Captain Hertzog said, looking at Sidney's reflection in front of him.
“Breaker blew on engines one and two, Captain. The circuit breaker on our auxiliary power partially clicked off. It wasn't completing the circuit but it looked like it was fine. Once I got that problem solved. I gave you light,” Sidney said with god-like certainty.
I fixed the blown breaker. That's why the power came on and then went out for a couple of minutes. I was installing the breaker. We should be good to go to Honolulu, Klaus. I have another breaker ready if we encounter the same problem. We still may have a short somewhere in the system. Engines three and four still aren't firing. We'll have better equipment to run it down once we're in Honolulu.” “Thank you, Sidney. Go below and pick one of the engineers to stand watch for the next three hours. At three the other engineer can take watch. You get some well deserved sleep. You can assume the watch at six.”
“Aye, aye, Captain. Will do. No one going to relieve you, Klaus?” Sidney Peacock inquired.
“No, Sidney. I'll be fine. You've taken most of the worry out of the rest of the night. I'll get some sleep once we've gotten well clear of the rough seas,” Captain Hertzog said.
“Good night, Klaus,” Sidney Peacock said.
“Sidney, I'm not going to try to apologize. Nothing I can say excuses the loss of my temper. I shouldn't take it out on you. You've saved my bacon more than once, old friend.”
“No need, Captain. You've got a lot more responsibility that I have. Taking a bit of heat isn't a bother. Good night, Klaus.”
“Good night, Sidney.”
Captain Hertzog stood with his big hands on the Horizon's wheel. He steered the ship into calmer waters and set a course for Honolulu..
*****
Clay woke up well past his usual getting out of bed time. He felt it as soon as his eyes opened. Smooth sailing was the word of the day. They made it through the night. He hadn't tossed and turned half the night either. He'd been tossed and turned. He could feel and hear engines one and two running like contented kittens.
“Dylan, you up? Rise and shine. Time for some bacon, eggs, ham, pancakes and anything else we can rustle up, Kiddo.”
Clay stood in the doorway between the two cabins. Dylan's bed was made and Dylan was gone. It was seven thirty according to his alarm clock. When he was out of school for the summer, and not doing trash with Ivan, Dylan rarely got to the table before eight. Since leaving port, Dylan was up before his father most mornings.
Probably up on deck watching the ocean again, Clay thought.
He dressed and headed for the galley. As soon as he stepped into the passageway, he smelled the coffee.
Man, that smells good, he thought to himself. I'm starving. When he stepped into the galley, Logan Warren, and Dylan, were facing each other with heads bent forward as if in a private consultation.
“What are you two cooking up?” Clay asked sitting beside Dylan.
“Nothing,” Dylan said.
“And, Mr. Warren, what do you have to say on the subject?”
“Clay, I'd feel more comfortable if you'd call me Logan. Everyone does,” Logan said.
“Yes, Sir. As I recall the captain calls you Mr. Warren,” Clay said.
“That's a joke, Clay. It's about me being a photographer. He's only joking by calling me Mr. Warren,” Logan said with exasperation in his words. “Captain Hertzog doesn't strike me as much of a joker,” Clay said, taking a long swig of coffee.
“Dad,” Dylan said. “We were talking about his guitar playing. He has a good voice, don't you think? Why doesn't anyone at the house make music?”
“Your Aunt Lucy used to sing in the choir. She was real young then. That was before you were born. Mama sang a little,” Clay said. “We aren't that musical, Dylan. Some families are. Some aren't.”
“Bill up yet? Anyone seen him?”
“He was up early. We had some coffee and talked a while. Said to tell you he was in his main lab when you came in for breakfast,” Logan said, cutting up a piece of ham and slathering it in the egg yoke on his plate.
“I'm going up on deck,” Dylan said, carrying his plate around the counter and taking it into the kitchen to wash it.
When he left the kitchen, he went out the door and turned toward the deck.
“You don't like me and I can't figure out why,” Logan said looking straight into Clay's eyes when he looked up.
“My son is an impressionable young man, Mr. Warren. He hasn't been exposed to a lot of men he isn't familiar with. My son is a serious boy. I wouldn't like him taking the kind of cavalier attitude you seem to have towards most things we've encountered so far. You are a bit, a bit … ”
“Loosey goosey is the words you're looking for. I've been told how you feel. Don't doubt that I take my work seriously. I've been asked to give your son some tips on film making, Mr. Olson. I take that seriously as well,” Logan said.
Clay was surprised at how well informed Logan was.
“You have a very nice son. I like Dylan. I wish I could say the same about his father. Excuse me, I've had enough,” Logan said, picking up his plate and going into the kitchen with it.
Logan left the kitchen and went into the passageway turning toward the film lab.
“It makes for a more enjoyable trip if we make an effort to get along, Mr. Olson,” the Greek said in a very clear distinctive voice.
“Well, now that I've pissed everyone off in here, I may as well go see who else I can piss off this morning,” Clay said to himself.
He stopped to pour his cup full of coffee from the pot on the counter before he left the galley. Greek did not look up.
He'd eat later. He'd lost his appetite. He didn't dislike Logan. He merely didn't care for his sense of humor. It wasn't the kind of example Clay wanted Dylan exposed to.
*****
Thursday evening Captain Hertzog spoke to the well fed diners who were busy waiting for the Greek's evening dessert.
“If you'll give me your attention. I promise not to hold up dessert any longer than necessary. We are scheduled to dock in Honolulu in the morning. Technicians are waiting for our arrival. They'll go to work immediately. We shouldn't be there past this weekend. Honolulu is a great place to visit,” the captain said. “While here see the sights. Experience the cuisine. It can't compare with Greek's culinary wonders, but it won't disappoint either. Stretch your legs. Enjoy yourselves. Keep in contact to know our departure time. At this point I can't even give you an estimate.”
Clay and Dylan weren't the only one on deck as the Horizon sailed into port. Hawaii was a beautiful place and once they docked, Clay and Dylan were first down the ramp to walk toward the center of town. Hawaii was more Asian than Clay thought it might be. He'd seen many Japanese and Chinese dressed casually as they toured Honolulu. Some places were more Hawaiian than others, but it was obvious the downtown area was tourist friendly.
After some peanut brittle, cherry snow cones, and one chocolate mint and one butter pecan ice cream cone, Dylan remembered what it was he wanted to do as soon as they got to land.
“Daddy-O. We can call Daddy-O, Dad. He'll be worried about us by this time,” Dylan said.
“Good thinking. We might not get to talk to him for a while once we leave here,” Clay said.
After three attempts and two operators who spoke something that sounded like it might be English, Clay got the call to go through.
“Hello, Ivan? Can you hear me OK?” Clay asked.
“Yeah, Babe. Where are you at? You sound five thousand miles away.”
“Honolulu. How far away is that?” Clay asked, knowing Ivan would know.
“Five thousand miles, give or take two or three hundred miles,” he answered.
He'd tracked the storm and he checked the distance to Hawaii while he was calculating where they were in the Pacific.
“You sound tired, Ivan. Are you getting enough sleep?”
“Too much. I got no one to bother me all night. The cove's jumping with vacationers. I have to do everything myself with the kid gone. Tag's no help. You know how he is,” Ivan said.
Clay could hear Tag fussing with Ivan in the background.
“Tell Tag I said hello,” Clay said.
“Tell him yourself,” Ivan said.
“Hello. This Clayton?” Tag asked. “How's Dylan. Tell him I said hi,” Tag said laughing at something Ivan said.
“I'll let you tell him in a minute. What's wrong, Taggart? Taggart, don't you lie to me. He sounds like he hasn't slept in a week and we haven't been gone a week.”
Tag said nothing but Clay could hear the phone being handed back to Ivan. Taggart wasn't going to lie to Clay. He said nothing.
“Hey, Babe, it's nice to hear your voice, you know how much I miss you?” Ivan asked with too much exuberance.
“I asked Taggart what's wrong. Now I'm asking you. Why do you sound like you've been up for two days straight. I want to know what's going on Ivan Aleksa,” Clay demanded into the phone.
“What's wrong?” Dylan asked.
“Busy, busy, busy, Babe,” Ivan said. “I'm fine. Missing you is all. And the kid, of course. How's Dylan?” Ivan asked.
“Ivan, I'm asking you one more time and then I'm hanging up if you don't tell me what's going on there,” Clay demanded again.
“Don't hang up, Babe. You know how I love hearing your voice. Put the kid on. I want to say hello to Dylan,” Ivan said.
“Don't hang up,” Dylan said, grabbing the phone.
“Daddy-O, what's wrong?”
“Don't you start. I miss you both. That's all. How do you like the Pacific Ocean?”
“I like it fine . It's kewl.”
“How do you like that movie guy?” Ivan asked as Clay listened.
“He's kewl. Dad's busting his balls, but Logan's kewl,” Dylan said.
“He played the guitar.”
“Tell your father to lighten up on the dude. He should be having the time of his life,” Ivan said. “I'm fine. Just busy is all.”
“Dad, why are you doing this?”
“Ask him what's wrong,” Clay said to Dylan.
“What did he say?” Ivan asked.
“What's wrong, Daddy-O,” Dylan asked, “You sound weird.
“I am weird. Look, this is costing me a fortune and the cove isn't making a fortune at present. Put Clay back on. Bye.”
Clay took the phone.
“Ivan, tell me what's going on or we're flying back tonight. We're having engine problems in the Horizon and that's why we're here. It will be just as easy for us to fly back as it is to get back on the boat,” Clay said, trying not to sound like he was nagging Ivan.
“It's a ship,” Ivan said.
“Ivan Aleksa, I want to know what's going on.”
“Don't fly back. I wrecked the Buick is all,” Ivan said. “I didn't want to tell you. I know how you love that car.”
“Ivan, your voice doesn't sound like an I wrecked the Buick voice. For one thing you'd be laughing about it if you wrecked my car. Wrecks get fixed. Cars get replaced. What aren't you telling me?”
“Look, this is costing a lot of money and we're going in circles. I have no answer that I can give you at this time. There's nothing you can do. I'll be fine, Clay. Don't fly back. You've been planning this trip for months. Coming home won't accomplish anything. Got to go now, Babe,” Ivan said.
He hung up the phone.
Clay looked at the receiver and he hung it up.
“Did he tell you?” Dylan asked.
“He's in one of those, I've got to do this myself moods. No, he simply said that he'd handle it. I don't know what I want to do,” Clay said.
Dylan watched his father. He didn't know what to do either.
“Will he be there when we get home?”
“I don't know. Where would he go? He's got that cove to take care of and he's in it with Popov. He can't go anywhere.”
“He better be there,” Dylan said.
“He didn't sound like he was going anywhere,” Clay said. “You don't think those gangsters came back, do you?”
“Not likely. Those guys are locked up for the next hundred years,” Clay said. “He hasn't sounded like this since he was eighteen and Boris went MIA. He went off the rails then too.”
“He didn't sound normal but I've never talked to him long distance. Come to think of it, I haven't been away from Daddy-O except when we go away since he came home,” Dylan calculated.
“Yep. He came home just before your tenth birthday. He hasn't left in four years,” Clay thought out loud. “I don't think it's that.”
“You think he's planning to leave us?” Dylan asked.
“Not if he wants to live he isn't,” Clay said.
Dylan laughed.
“Yeah, we'd both kill him if he pulled that shit,” Dylan said.
“Language, Dylan,” Clay said.
“I'm talking about killing my biologic and you're worried about my language. We've got serious problems in this family,” Dylan said.
Clay laughed and then he remembered how Ivan sounded.
“Ivan has Taggart in the middle of what's going on. When I asked Taggart what was wrong, he gave the phone back to Ivan,” Clay said. “We going home, Dad?”
“We go home and there's nothing wrong but Ivan imagining he's John D Rockefeller, how'd that look? Bill's been looking forward to getting me on the Horizon since he got it. No, we couldn't go home if we wanted to. Your filmmaker Logan probably has things he'd like to teach you. You don't want to miss out on that, do you?”
“Dad, why can't you call him Logan when you talk to him. The man is a filmmaker. I want to be a filmmaker. Don't you think I might be able to learn something important he can teach me? You're so busy busting his balls, he's afraid to talk to me. Can't you lighten up just a little, Dad?” Dylan said. “I don't ask for much.”
“I am not as sold on Logan as you are, but for you, I'll lighten up,” his father said. “He is a bit too immature for my taste, but he seems harmless enough.”
“Thank you,” Dylan said. “What do you think is going on with Daddy-O?”
“He's breathing and talking. How bad could it be? If I call Mama, it would just upset her. She won't know anything is wrong. Ivan isn't going to tell us anything until he's good and ready, Kiddo,” Clay said. “Our best move is to do what we set out to do and let Ivan work out whatever has him sounding like he hasn't slept in a week.”
“Kewl,” Dylan said. “I can dig it.”
*****
An electrical harness was flown from the manufacturer on the mainland to Honolulu overnight and it was installed on the second morning. The technicians from one of John Sinclair's technology division ran checks on the ship's electrical system to be certain there wasn't another problem lurking.
While the technical experts objected to Sidney Peacock even being allowed in their engine room, he went out on his own and bought a new breaker box, all new breakers, and all new fuses. He replaced the entire nine yards by the time the harness arrived.
At four fifteen on the second day, Captain Hertzog started his engines in sequence until all four were humming. With everyone on board and the technicians waving as they went down the ramp. The Horizon got underway. Captain Hertzog stood proudly on the bridge watching over his domain. He had the best seat in the house as he watched most of the crew and ship’s guests standing on deck watching Honolulu disappear. No matter where you stood it was a sight to see.
The storm and the loss of power were distant memories. Bill stayed in his lab while the ship was docked. He had all his equipment in good working order and ready to go into action. Logan also stayed on the ship except for one brief excursion where he found a shop with hand made ukuleles. Without intending to Logan, he bought a new guitar.
The Greek spent most of the time in port going through grocery concerns and picking up items to supplement his original supply of food. They consumed a lot of food in the week they'd been gone.
Dylan and Clay stood on the starboard side of the bow. They watched Honolulu passing in front of them as the Horizon moved north a mile from the coast. The feeling of motion was a bit more apparent as their speed increased.
The deck was steady under them. The day was sunny and bright with few clouds to mar the scene. If they weren't looking at paradise, it was close to it. It was a remarkably beautiful place and Captain Hertzog did not move away from the coast.
They'd need to make a turn in a westerly direction to get where they were going but they continued moving north along the coast. The scenery changed from well populated Honolulu to a far less populated landscape and both Clay and Dylan wanted to see it. The fresh air was good and the scenery impressive as the Horizon glided through the water at 12 knots.
While Clay waited for the Horizon to make its turn west, the intercom came to life and filled the day with Captain Hertzog's voice.
“If you'll look to the starboard side, you'll see the northern most shore of Oahu. Before we turn to the west, I thought you'd like to see Waimea Bay. The storm that passed us last week left remnants that created the perfect surf you see before you. It's an ill wind that doesn't do someone some good.”
The close shore line abruptly gave way to an open bay. Beaches were clearly visible and they were filled with people. They weren't just people, they were surfers. Dozens of surfers were in the water. Some were on the tips of waves. Some paddled furiously to catch a wave and some bobbed in the water, waiting.
“Catch a wave and you're sitting on top of the world,” Dylan said in a whisper.
Looking at Dylan, Clay wondered where he got that from. He knew those words but he couldn't place them.
Was his head so filled with facts and figures he couldn't remember where he'd heard that simple phrase?
“Where's you get that from?” Clay asked as another group of surfers stood up on their board.
“Everybody's gone surfin, surfin USA,” Dylan sang loudly. “Haggerties and Swamies, Pacific Palisades, San Onofre and Sunset, Redondo Beach L. A., All over La Jolla, at Waimea Bay, everybody's gone surfin, surfin USA,” Dylan sang in perfect pitch.
Clay stared at his son.
“What? Everyone knows the Beach Boys, Dad.”
“How do you know that song?” Clay asked.
“I may live in Florida but I'm not brain dead. California is where it's at. The Beach Boys are kewl. Everyone knows that.”
“I did hear that someplace,” Clay said, remembering days of his youth at Ivan's with Bob Dylan, the Beatles, and Beach Boys banging in their ears as they absorbed the sounds.
“I had no idea you listened to the Beach Boys,” Clay said.
“Dad, who doesn't listen to the Beach Boys? I live at the beach. I hear them. They're selling California and it's an easy sell.”
“I guess you're right,” Clay said, having never considered it.
They watched dozens of surfers surfing in Waimea Bay. It was a site Clay never imagined he'd see. He knew the words to the song. He knew the names of surfing beaches the Beach Boys sang about. He once imagined surfin those beaches with Ivan, before they grew up, but they had grown up and Clay had been too busy to learn to surf. Wiomea Bay grew smaller as the Horizon began her turn to the west. As Captain Hertzog stated, all four engines were now humming as Clay felt the Horizon surge as Hawaii was left behind.
The Horizon was sleek and clean. She cut through the water like she was built to fly. Clay and Dylan went their respective ways. Logan was going to teach Dylan about what he'd found out about the new 16mm cameras Bill's university had bought for him to use on the Horizon and they were going to shoot film on deck.
They were going to shoot film of the water, the sky, and the horizon as they sailed toward it.
It would be two days of full speed ahead before Captain Hertzog reduced speed and turned south southwest for a half day. That's where he'd anchor a few hundred yards from the reef where they spent three weeks the summer before.
At that time the biggest part of Captain Hertzog's work would be done. For the next few weeks he'd occupy himself with engine checks and routine inspections that assured him that when they were ready for a resupply on Guam, the engines would start and be in fine working condition.
After leaving Honolulu behind and turning directly west, Bill and Clay spent some time in the main lab analyzing some water samples Bill took each morning. Bill was quite proud of one of the gadgets that could identify a dozen pollutants within a half day. This speedy return of results was compared with days and weeks when samples were sent out to private labs to be analyzed and might not come back in the same semester.
Clay saw the device on one of his trips to DC the year before. He went to speak in front of Harry's committee on the environment. There were always scientists who spoke on the days he spoke. During dinner at Hogates, the night Clay left for home, they'd eaten with a scientist who explained the same device Bill was so excited about. It cut down the time it took to get results by several days to a week.
By late last year Harry bought two of those instruments. One went on Sea Lab and one was at his Sanibel Island Conservancy Lab. He smiled but said nothing about such advances in technology Harry made certain his marine biologist got straight from the developer and before it went on the market.
“Listen to those engines,” Bill said, sipping coffee.
“Powerful,” Clay said. “How fast will she go?” Clay asked.
“Twenty-two knots at the moment. We didn't go more than twelve to fifteen knots the first two or three days.”
“I can feel the difference but I'm accustomed to listening to the Detroits on Sea Lab. They make an amazing sound,” Clay said.
The two men drank coffee and chatted casually.
The excitement built as they moved closer to where the summer's research would be done.
The sky was blue. The ocean was calm and the Horizon would make up a day by the time they reached this year's dive site.