logbook. “How long will you be staying there?”
“Depends how long the crossing takes,” Jim said wryly. “Dad has business over there. Then we’re heading across to the Philippines.”
“That’s a long way for a little boat like this.”
Jim shrugged. “She’s done it before. Hoping to do it faster this time.”
“Who’s the registered keeper?”
“I am.” Jim showed them the information.
“We need to check the rest of the boat now, Mr. Kirk. Would you accompany us please? If you ladies could stay here, please?”
Jim followed the customs officers, while the girls stayed on the bridge with Deefer.
Staci slipped her hand into Lou’s. “They’ll send us back,” she said quietly. “We should never have stayed here last night.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“I hope so.”
“We will.”
The next twenty minutes while the customs officers searched the boat, seemed to last an eternity. They went through everything - packed bags, toiletries, and under the mattresses. Then they asked Jim to take them down to the hold to check any cargo.
When Jim came back onto the bridge alone, Lou looked anxiously at him.
“It’s OK,” he said. “Just the registry check and then we’re done.”
“Are they still here?” Staci asked.
“No, but we can’t leave until they say so.”
“What if Nichola calls the police and they look for the boat? How long does this check take?”
“Fifteen minutes they said. I suggest we just chill out and act normal.”
“Act normal?” Staci looked at him. “Jim, we’re trying to leave the country.”
“Not illegally, kiddo. Trust me. People who are running away do not walk up to people in uniform and say, here’s my passport, now please can I leave the country.”
“How come you’re so calm?” Staci asked.
“I’m not,” Jim replied. “But if you show that you are nervous, it gives them cause to ask more questions.”
After what seemed ages, Lou checked her watch. “It’s been forty-five minutes. What’s keeping them?”
“Patience, woman. All good things come to those that wait.”
The radio sprang into life. “Alpha-Juliet-Tango-Kilo this is customs. Are you receiving, over?”
Jim grabbed the mike and pressed the transmit button and responded. “Alpha-Juliet-Tango-Kilo receiving, over.”
“You are clear to leave. Have a pleasant trip. Over.”
“Roger, thank you. Over and out.”
Staci giggled. “Your call sign is a girl’s name?”
Jim rolled his eyes. “It’s my name in the phonetic alphabet. It’s not my fault J is Juliet now, is it? Staci Paula Kirk would be Sierra Papa Kilo, so it works both ways.”
She tilted her head. “What about Lou?”
Jim winked. “She’d be Lima Whiskey Bravo.”
Lou scowled. “Charming. And I thought Willow was bad enough as a middle name.” She went out on deck and caught the ropes the dockhand tossed her. Rolling them up, she stowed them beneath the tarpaulin and gave the bridge the thumbs up.
Avon pulled away from the quay as she went back up to the bridge. The sun shone in through the rear windows, making it feel really warm. Avon slid past the cargo terminals on her way to the sea.
5
Lou sat on the couch on the bridge with Staci, watching as the various boats, ships and catamarans passed them by.
A big naval vessel lay tied up at one dock. A helicopter landed on its deck and several men in flight suits jumped out to be met by officers in uniform. Lou sighed.
“There’s just something about a man in uniform, isn’t there?” she said wistfully.
“If you insist. I’ve never seen the attraction myself,” Jim said.
Lou laughed. “I should hope not.”
A huge cruise liner at another dock completely dwarfed them as they sailed past. Full of holidaymakers hanging over her sides, she gracefully floated as men loaded cargo aboard her.
Lou heard a siren and turned to look behind them. A flashing light identified the fast approaching boat as police. Four armed
“Depends how long the crossing takes,” Jim said wryly. “Dad has business over there. Then we’re heading across to the Philippines.”
“That’s a long way for a little boat like this.”
Jim shrugged. “She’s done it before. Hoping to do it faster this time.”
“Who’s the registered keeper?”
“I am.” Jim showed them the information.
“We need to check the rest of the boat now, Mr. Kirk. Would you accompany us please? If you ladies could stay here, please?”
Jim followed the customs officers, while the girls stayed on the bridge with Deefer.
Staci slipped her hand into Lou’s. “They’ll send us back,” she said quietly. “We should never have stayed here last night.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“I hope so.”
“We will.”
The next twenty minutes while the customs officers searched the boat, seemed to last an eternity. They went through everything - packed bags, toiletries, and under the mattresses. Then they asked Jim to take them down to the hold to check any cargo.
When Jim came back onto the bridge alone, Lou looked anxiously at him.
“It’s OK,” he said. “Just the registry check and then we’re done.”
“Are they still here?” Staci asked.
“No, but we can’t leave until they say so.”
“What if Nichola calls the police and they look for the boat? How long does this check take?”
“Fifteen minutes they said. I suggest we just chill out and act normal.”
“Act normal?” Staci looked at him. “Jim, we’re trying to leave the country.”
“Not illegally, kiddo. Trust me. People who are running away do not walk up to people in uniform and say, here’s my passport, now please can I leave the country.”
“How come you’re so calm?” Staci asked.
“I’m not,” Jim replied. “But if you show that you are nervous, it gives them cause to ask more questions.”
After what seemed ages, Lou checked her watch. “It’s been forty-five minutes. What’s keeping them?”
“Patience, woman. All good things come to those that wait.”
The radio sprang into life. “Alpha-Juliet-Tango-Kilo this is customs. Are you receiving, over?”
Jim grabbed the mike and pressed the transmit button and responded. “Alpha-Juliet-Tango-Kilo receiving, over.”
“You are clear to leave. Have a pleasant trip. Over.”
“Roger, thank you. Over and out.”
Staci giggled. “Your call sign is a girl’s name?”
Jim rolled his eyes. “It’s my name in the phonetic alphabet. It’s not my fault J is Juliet now, is it? Staci Paula Kirk would be Sierra Papa Kilo, so it works both ways.”
She tilted her head. “What about Lou?”
Jim winked. “She’d be Lima Whiskey Bravo.”
Lou scowled. “Charming. And I thought Willow was bad enough as a middle name.” She went out on deck and caught the ropes the dockhand tossed her. Rolling them up, she stowed them beneath the tarpaulin and gave the bridge the thumbs up.
Avon pulled away from the quay as she went back up to the bridge. The sun shone in through the rear windows, making it feel really warm. Avon slid past the cargo terminals on her way to the sea.
5
Lou sat on the couch on the bridge with Staci, watching as the various boats, ships and catamarans passed them by.
A big naval vessel lay tied up at one dock. A helicopter landed on its deck and several men in flight suits jumped out to be met by officers in uniform. Lou sighed.
“There’s just something about a man in uniform, isn’t there?” she said wistfully.
“If you insist. I’ve never seen the attraction myself,” Jim said.
Lou laughed. “I should hope not.”
A huge cruise liner at another dock completely dwarfed them as they sailed past. Full of holidaymakers hanging over her sides, she gracefully floated as men loaded cargo aboard her.
Lou heard a siren and turned to look behind them. A flashing light identified the fast approaching boat as police. Four armed
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