Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Gavin was outside setting up his ever present fishing line. He had made a cup of coffee, at
which I now pointed, “Gaanders!” I said.
“Yeah, well you were asleep. No doubt dreaming of Neptune's crew!” he added facetiously.
“Thanks a lot,” I retorted, “That was disgusting! Is the gas on? I'm going to make breakfast,
and for that last outburst, you, as it were, are not getting any!”
“Gaatst! I saw the dogs; they came down and barked hello. I think they have taken off
somewhere now. There were only two of them.”
We were having breakfast when the owner of the old, wooden boat came racing over in his
rubber dinghy. He neatly pulled up alongside Déjà vu and stood up and, smiling reservedly
and nodding his head in greeting, said, “Morning, I'm Jesus, everything OK? I heard you
had a problem getting in yesterday?” He pronounced Jesus the Spanish way: Haysoos.
We introduced ourselves and briefly told him about our arrival and consequent rescue by
the crew on Neptune's Chariot. He raised his eyes, “Oh yes, dose guys.” He smiled, “All
gay, but nice guys, dey have help me quite a lot.” He sounded Swiss. He shook his leon-
ine head and said seriously and quietly, “I have a beeg problem; my daughter fell out of a
coconut tree a few days ago and injured her neck real bad. We had to move her to a little
shack on da beach, and we are trying to get her to Hawaii for hospital treatment.”
“My God, how terrible, is she paralyzed?” I asked.
“She can move her fingers and toes, but we can't take a risk moving her too much; we
don't really know how bad her injury is. Pete and his wife, Linda, on Southern Star have
a single side band radio, and they are in touch with a Japanese frigate somewhere near
Christmas Island. They have a helicopter and have promised to help us airlift my daughter
to Honolulu.”
“Wow, that's lucky that they were in the area!” said Gavin.
“Yes, I must go; my wife is with her now. I'm taking food,” he said patting a bag on the
seat beside him.
“Please let us know if there is anything we can do to help,” we offered, clucking in genuine
sympathy.
I am one of those poor creatures that cannot enjoy themselves until all the work is done
(thanks to my Scottish father). “Work before play,” he had always tried to drum into us. I
was fretting about the diesel engine. Why did she just die like that? I decided to make some
basic checks after breakfast. Oh, but I still had such a hangover from last night, and it was
already so hot and barely ten in the morning!
