Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
After a while, folks started drifting off to their respective boats. The Swiss were the first to
leave, followed later by Kevin, Elizabeth, and Craig. Penny remained, much to Gavin's and
my relief, saying to her dad, “I'll get a lift back with the twins.”
“Behave yourselves now boys!” he had said with a mischievous grin. Harry and his entour-
age headed off after saying goodbye. They were leaving later the next day, and I was glad
that they had left on good terms.
Gavin, Penny, and I remained staring into the fading fire. An interesting situation arose:
who would leave first. I felt that tonight was Gavin's night, especially in the light of the
crab incident. I stood up to leave, picked up my things, and bid them both a good night.
Penny stood up as well, pretending to help me find my possessions. In the dark, she pressed
my hand into hers; I could feel her soft warmth. I squeezed hers in return: message received
and understood. I bid them a good evening and took my leave. Army and Palmyra looked
up quizzically from their places by the fireside, “How will we get back to the boat?” they
seemed to be asking.
“Gavin, can you can bring the doggies back with you when you come?” I rowed quietly
back to Déjà vu. It had been a long day.
Steve and Linda kept to themselves for the next couple of days. I think they realized that
this group of sailors would never forgive his actions. I believe the Swiss were very grateful
for his logistical help in arranging the Japanese Navy's airlift operation of their daughter,
but he had certainly made a mess of this one.
One morning a few days later, I woke up to the horrible cries of a dog screaming in agony.
I shot up out of bed, “Gavin, do you hear that?” I yelled. He was up as well, looking out
towards the shore. “I could swear that sounds like one of the dogs! I haven't seen them
around in a couple of days.”
There it was again, a blood curdling scream of pain. “Jesus Christ, what is going on?” I
yelled, unable to bear the sound any more.
“I think it's coming from the clubhouse,” said Gavin, undoing the painter of his dinghy. “I
noticed Steve and Linda's dinghy on shore. I wouldn't be in the least surprised if they are
involved in this.”
I jumped into the dinghy as well, and he rowed us to shore at top speed. All the while, the
shrill sound of the screaming dog was jagged in our ears. “Fucking hell, what are they do-
ing to him?” we yelled.
No sooner on shore, we jumped out of the dinghy and raced into the clubhouse and saw
Steve and Linda, blood all over their hands and clothes, holding one of the poor dogs by
