Chasing Latitudes: A Cockamamie Caribbean Tale

© 2012 Joshua MacLeod. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 7/3/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4685-9570-3

ISBN: 978-1-4685-9569-7

ISBN: 978-1-4685-9568-0

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012907979

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1: Should I stay or should I go

Chapter 2: A Flying Boat

Chapter 3: Feet Wet

Chapter 4: Reality Bites

Chapter 5: Wet Dreams

Chapter 6: A Nun’s Confession

Chapter 7: Reality Rules

Chapter 8: Mother May I

Chapter 9: Way Past Dead

Chapter 10: Shambolic Beginnings

Chapter 11: Black Sandal Affair

Chapter 12: Forgive Me Sister for I Have Sinned

Chapter 13: Festive Beginnings

Chapter 14: A Woman Scorned

Chapter 15: Tropical Antidote

Chapter 16: Something Scary in the Water

Chapter 17: Just Another Day in Paradise

Chapter 18: Sharpening the Pitchforks

Chapter 19: Ride It Like You Stole It

Chapter 20: Diego’s Bailiwick

Chapter 21: Tropical Latitudes

Chapter 22: Pirate Latitudes

Chapter 23: Desperate Measures for a Desperate Formula

Chapter 24: This Way to Paradise

Chapter 25: Toys for Boys, or Boys for Toys

Chapter 26: Them There are Pirates

Chapter 27: Return to Paradise

Chapter 28: Big Bad Voodoo Mama

Chapter 29: Morning Irony

Chapter 30: Won’t you be my neighbor

Chapter 31: Gypsys Leaving The Palace

Chapter 32: Regurgitated and Aggravated

Chapter 33: Let the festivities proceed

Chapter 34: Sexy Friends Forever

Chapter 35: Island Hopping

Chapter 36: Mojo Rising

Chapter 37: A Chicken Rock

Chapter 38: Pullover here

Chapter 39: Party’s Over

Chapter 40: Chasing Latitudes

Chapter 41: The party’s just getting started

Chapter 42: Turn the blender on high

Chapter 43: Lost Sheep Squadron

Chapter 44: Pour me a tall one

Chapter 45: Torpedoes away

Chapter 46: The coconut juice has gone sour

Chapter 47: Hot Fudge Sundays for everyone

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

For Brittany and Abby

Go out and see the world, and by all means don’t worry about the outcome.

That’s what the rum is for; to cure any discontent.

LATITUDE JUMPER 1942 Grumman Goose JRF-3

General characteristics

• Crew: two

• Length: 38 ft 4 in (11.7 m)

• Wingspan: 49 ft (14.9 m)

• Height: 12 ft (3.7 m)

• Wing area: 375 ft² (34.8 m²)

• Empty weight: 5,571 lb (2,527 kg)

• Loaded weight: 7,200 lb (3,273 kg)

• Max takeoff weight: 8,200 lb (3,720 kg)

• Power plant: 2× Pratt & Whitney Wasp Junior SB-2 air-cooled radials, 450 hp (340 kW) each

Performance

• Maximum speed: 184 mph (296 km/h)

• Range: 1,050 mi (1,690 km)

• Service ceiling: 21,000 ft (6,400 m)

• Rate of climb: 1,240 ft/min (380 m/min)

• Wing loading: 21.9 lb/ft² (106.9 kg/m²)

• Power/mass: 0.11 hp/lb (0.18 kW/kg)

Armament/ when called for

• 2 x .50-cal machine guns

• 2 x 250-lb depth charges

Latitude Jumper

This is one cockamamie Caribbean tale. It never happened!

                   – Crazy Joe

Introduction

I was fourteen years old when I landed in the Caribbean with a rum and coke in hand. I remember thinking, So- this is what I had been missing all these years. The rum! Coke suddenly tasted better after that. I won’t specify the first island my crazy uncle shanghaied me to, but let’s just say Mr. Thompson would have been proud. Shit, I’m surprised we didn’t bump into each other. Maybe we did? The Caribbean is a magical place. When I look back to it all, I’m certain my uncle and I broke many laws. Let’s be brutally honest. We broke all the laws! My first two weeks in the Caribbean, I learned how to bet on race horses, cock fights, play pool with pool sharks four times my age, and make out with older women- much older. Let’s just say my very first encounter with a certain woman, I served up a very impressive cocktail. One she’ll always remember. For me, salvation came via the Caribbean and its strange and preeminent nudging ways. The Caribbean touched me, I didn’t touch it. I happily spent the next three summers soaking up the pirate life. Suddenly, all my childhood fantasies of Magnum P.I., Hawaii Five-O, and Paradise Island had come to life. I was living it, man! And I was wearing a shit- eating grin every morning. Well, minus the red Ferrari, and the fancy badge. However, seaplanes, floatplanes, fast cars, boats, and women were an everyday experience. I remember catching multiple fish with the same bait. Standing on a rock face holding buckets up as waves crashed on us and, like magic, when the waves rolled away there was always a rainbow of flopping fish inside. Many nights I spent on the turret of an old WWII tank rusting away on a beach, gazing into the night sky watching shooting stars fly across the universe. My first night, I lost track after thirty-six. For me the Salt Life is not a sticker on the back of a car. I wear it on my skin.

JOSHUA MACLEOD

The Fiji islands

July 17, 2008

Chapter 1: Should I stay or should I go

SUMMER 1990

Domino College had sadly turned into Domino Jailhouse. It was called a ‘boys home,’ operated by the Catholic Church and partially funded by the city of Miami. The dilapidated building had housed orphans for the last 50 years, but it seemed like 150 to Mike, who didn’t even remember much about the three and four foster homes he’d been in before finally landing at Domino College at the age of 11. For him the reality was ironic tragedy. A penguin monastery. Why the the black coats were referred to as Sister or Father was commonsensical suicide for Mike, when the whole kit and caboodle seemed quite the opposite of the infamous K.K.K.. He had grown tired of the cliched existence. The rumor was, the older you are, the harder it is for adoption. The majority rules. Ninety percent of the time the adoptive families seek young children, much younger. He tried recalling how he had ended up in such a plight. Only vague images of unhappy childhood parents remained. Painfully, Mike accepted the sting; now 16, he was grounded until 18. Even his boyish good looks, brown hair and eyes, tall figure, and growing physique, was not attracting potential families. He had been festering there for the past five years. But with the friendship he developed with Billy, his towheaded and freckled faced partner, and Sister Mary, it had become home. He and Billy had shared the same room, and as much as they had in common, their dreams were mismatched. Mike’s desires were for adventure and travel with a spice of larceny along the way. His beating heart whispered at night that there was more to living than this strict life, and his desire to break out mounted on a daily basis. His friend, Billy had given up all hopes of ever being adopted and Mike couldn’t blame him. Billy was a career orphan. Bussed around the southeast since his parents gave him up to the system as an infant.

Mike…

Yeah…

Who invented dominoes?

No idea. I’ll ask Sister Mary next time I see her.

Ok.

They continued their game when suddenly they heard a familiar sound. They glanced up at each other. Eyes wide, mouths dropped open as blood rushed through their veins. Mike threw down a double six domino and smiled.

You think it’s him, Mike? Billy asked.

Sure sounds like his Jeep.

Their hearts came alive at the thought. The next thing they knew they were glued to the window. If they could have materialized through the glass, it would have happened. Domino College had suddenly turned to Domino Recess.

It’s him! He’s headed this way, Mike said.

They watched as the old military Jeep made its way toward the boys’ home, making a sharp left turn into the parking lot, and coming to stop in the shade next to the building.

That’s such a cool Jeep, Billy said.

Frustrated, Mike backpedaled to his bed and dropped, contemplating what to do.

Billy’s face still glued to the window. It’s so cool he can drive around without a roof.

Yeah. Has to be cool, Mike replied with discontent. Glad to see that old Jeep miraculously still running.

It’s been a month since we last saw him, Billy said as he looked over at Mike laying on the bed thinking.

It has been a while.

Shit, Mike. You have that look. That, ‘I want some excitement’ look. Last time you had that look we both ended up getting fifty whacks from by Father Tipsy, Billy said, rubbing his ass. We had to write one thousand Hail Mary’s. You know Father Tipsy hits harder than Sister Mary!

Yeah- yeah. I remember. Don’t worry. I won’t get you in trouble this time. Besides, I miscalculated. If things had gone like I planned we would have been spanked by Sister Mary instead, and you know she only pretends to spank us.

My ass still hurts, Mike, and it’s been months.

Yeah, mine too.

What are you thinking?

I’m out of here, Billy! Every time he drops by, he and Sister Mary talk about all the wild trips they had aboard his boat through the Caribbean. I have to find a way to sneak aboard.

Mike stood next to Billy and watched the tall, tanned, dark haired, and big boned Captain exit the Jeep and make his way inside the building.

Are you fucking crazy, Mike?

Shhh… Mike pantomimed the universal sign for silence. He’s headed for Sister Mary’s office. I’m going to go listen. You coming?

Billy silently nodded his approval, and they quietly headed out of the room. Whispering, Mike said, It’s our lucky day, coast is clear.

Fast walking down the hallway, they silently opened the janitors door next to Sister Mary’s office and locked it behind them. Silent as the grave, they removed a few boxes covering a dime-size hole in the wall. A glimmering light showed through. They smiled at each other. Taking turns, they saw and heard the conversation. Careful not to make any noise, Mike motioned for them to place their ears by the hole facing each other, and they listened with gleaming grins.

Captain stood out like a peacock in his bright multicolored Hawaiian shirt compared to his sisters deathly black coat.

So- Sis. You going to take that black Sunday dress off and head back to the islands with me? I have the Jumper fueled and ready to go, Captain said. He sat in front of Sister Mary’s desk, feet propped up, and looked around the tiny cluttered office, jammed with books and filing cabinets. A giant stack of Bibles in the corner.

How much longer are you going to pay penance for your sins in this place? You weren’t that bad, Sis. Say a few Our fathers, a couple Hail Mary’s; I’ll go to confession with you. Then we’re out of here. You. Me. The Caribbean, just like the old days!

Sister Mary chuckled. Yellow! I said no. I’m not that girl any more. I’m happy here, and besides, these kids need me. They don’t have anyone. I’m enjoying my new life.

Ok! You’re just wasting away trying to be good. I’m all for being good at times, but it’s the summer- it’s time to be bad.

Yellow. Stop tempting me, please! Now, where are you headed? Sister Mary asked curiously.

You really want to know, Captain said, crossing his arms behind his neck.

Mary chuckled. Oh- Bahamas? St. Barths? Snake Island? Anguilla?

How about all of the above, Captain mockingly added with a sideways smile.

Sounds good, but I’ve lived my share of the fun life, and I’ll be thinking about you.

I know you will, but if you change your mind, you know where I’ll be, Sis. Captain reached into his pocket and handed her a small white envelope. Here. I thought you could use it, seeing how little you must get paid working here, if any.

Why do you always do this? I wish you wouldn’t. I’m happy here. Take it back.

No! Go shopping or something, just have some fun. No offense, Sis. I feel like you’re suffering here.

None taken. The only ones suffering are these kids. With a hopeful glance, she added, When are you going to listen to me and take one of the kids with you? You would be doing them a favor and they need someone in their lives.

Absolutely not! Have a kid ruin my summer. The last thing I need is to babysit. Besides, you really want me responsible for corrupting some kid? Captain grumbled. Look at the time! It’s getting late, and I still have to drive to Steve’s Marina.

I get it. You’re a mean ogre. Did you get your rum and chocolate?

Captain gave a very sideways smile with squinting eyes.

The ogre didn’t forget the rum and chocolate.

Sister Mary added laughing. I’ll never forget the time you took off for the Bahamas and ten minutes into your flight, you realized you had no chocolate, and turned around.

Very funny! You know I’m addicted to the stuff, like a smoker and cigarettes. I get fidgety after a few days without it.

Thanks for stopping by. I really appreciate it. Please take care of yourself out there. Remember, there are still pirates in those strange tides. Sister Mary walked over and gave him a goodbye hug.

Thanks, Sis, I’ll be safe, you take care. I’ll phone you when I get back, like the end of July.

I’ll be waiting to hear all about about it. Tell the ex-patriots I said hi, that I miss them all.

I will Sis, Captain said. Hey, can I use the men’s room before I head out?

Sure, you know where it is. I’ll meet you by the front door.

Ok.

Whispering to Billy, Mike was almost too excited for words. Billy! You hear that? He’s going back this summer!

Yeah! I wonder what kind of boat it is, must be a big one, to be able to travel around like that.

Let’s get back, Mike whispered, again making the universal quiet sign. Billy nodded his approval, and they quietly left the utility room, scrambling back to their room. Once inside, Billy stood stunned. He watched Mike frantically tossing through his dresser drawers, grabbing clothes and shoving them in his back pack. Billy couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

What the hell are you doing, Mike? I hope it’s not what I’m thinking you’re thinking?

Yes, it is Billy. I’m out of here! I don’t want to spend another summer in this place.

And how do you think you’re going to pull this off. It’s not like you’re going to climb in that Jeep and he’s going to say- ‘Ok! let’s go kid’, Billy replied, watching Mike pack his things.

Here! Mike said pointing to the window. Help me get this window open. There’s a heavy cover over his things. I’ll hide in the back under it, and I’ll jump out when he gets to where he’s going before he sees me. I’ll hide and watch what boat he loads his things into. Then I’ll sneak aboard and I’m off!

What if you get caught Mike? He may turn you over to the cops, or worse, he may do like the pirates used to do, tie a cannon ball to your feet and make you walk the plank. You heard Sister Mary, she says there’s still pirates out there, Billy added anxiously as he and Mike pried open the window together.

Mike gave Billy a confused look then smiled.

Are you kidding me, Billy? It’s 1990. You don’t believe that pirate stuff? Give me a break.

What if he finds you?

That’s the whole plan, but not until we’re far away from here, when it’s too late to turn back or do anything about it, Mike replied as he lowered himself out the window.

Throw me my backpack when I get down, okay?

Sure thing.

Oh- and, Billy- thanks. I’ll be back, and I’ll tell you all about it, Mike replied. He reached back in the window and shook Billy’s hand.

You better. I’ll cover for you while you’re gone. See ya, Mike.

Thanks, Billy the Kid, I know you will.

Mike let go of the window ledge and dropped down, glanced around and then looked up and motioned for Billy to drop his backpack. He caught it, glanced around again, hoping no one was watching. When he saw it was all clear he stood at attention and saluted Billy who returned the salute and smiled.

Outside Sister Mary sat on the steps admiring the beautiful Florida summer day, perfect blue skies and picturesque white clouds. Another minute went by when she started to wonder what was taking Captain so long. He must be taking a dump again… she thought when suddenly, she heard a noise around the corner of the building. She spotted the Jeep’s bumper parked in the shade next to the building. She heard another sound. Wondering what that could be, she got up and walked to the corner, slowly peeking around just in time to see legs and a pair of sneakers disappearing under the tarp. She thought she recognized those size as, Mike’s. Just then she glanced up and saw Billy closing the blinds of the window. Sister Mary was about to blow a screw when she thought about it and what she had said earlier to Captain. Her mind started racing like a monkey on the conga drums. She glanced back at the front door. Shit Captain! I hope you’re still on the toilet, I need one more minute. Dammit! she thought.

Inside the bathroom stall Captain sat on the toilet rambling away as he read a magazine about the Catholic Church and their programs around the world.

Boring! Boring! Lame, lamo! Get a life sister…. Wow! You’re too hot for that outfit sister, let me show you a thing or two.

Outside Mary pulled away the cover, only to find Mike scared shitless that he had been discovered.

OH, SHIT!

Shhh! Mary hissed. Watch your mouth. Now listen to me.

His ears perked up. He couldn’t believe his luck. Sister Mary was helping him escape the compound.

When you get on board, hide under his cot. It’s the only place big enough for you to hide. Wait for at least an hour before letting him know you’re there. Don’t worry about things on this end, I’ll take care of everything.

Thanks, Sister Mary, Mike whispered, astounded.

She gave Mike a caring look. You need this more than you know- I’ll be praying for you two. Bye! With that she covered him up again and made sure the tarp was secure for the trip Mike had to endure to the boat yard. Suddenly she heard Captain calling out for her.

Sis? Thought you said you’d be outside.

Mary took a deep breath and walked back around the corner toward him.

I was just blessing your Jeep for a safe trip, she replied trying to be calm.

Really? You did the whole sprinkling of the water thing? Suspiciously Captain glanced at her. That most have been one hell of a blessing! You look like you just exorcised my Jeep, Sis. It’s just a Jeep. Well… I take that back, there could be some ghosts still lingering around after the war.

Oh, be quiet silly! You better get going. I’ll miss you, Yellow. She gave him a hug.

Remember, you’re in my prayers.

Thanks, I need all I can get.

Can I ask for a small favor?

Again, he gave her an examining glance.

Sure Sis. What will it be?

Give me a call when you get where you’re going.

As you wish. Gotta go. Don’t party too hard, Captain replied sarcastically. He jumped in his Jeep, started it up and fumbled around inside.

Yellow, remember. God works in mysterious ways.

He looked up, caught her glance, and replied, Here. Have some chocolate. You’re acting weird, and you look like you need to get laid. Bye!

They gave each other the traditional Hawaiian hand signal as he drove off into the sea of cars. Mary stood watching with scared disbelief, then glancing up at Mike and Billy’s window, and said, What have I done? She had to find a way to cover for Mike, and she was going to need Billy’s help.

Upstairs Billy freaked when Mary burst in unannounced. Instinctively, Billy squeezed his butt cheeks, stood like a statue, and said, I have no idea what’s going on!

Listen, Billy, I know all about Mike. If we’re going to cover for him this summer, I’m going to need your help.

Yes ma’m! Billy replied smiling.

Riding along in the back of the Jeep, Mike pressed his back against the tailgate as supplies kept jostling him every time the tires hit a bump in the road. Despite the discomfort of the ride, he felt a sense of awe and excitement as he lay in wait. His imagination displayed faraway places and what pirates might look like. Surprisingly he wasn’t scared, only concerned how he was going to approach and convince the Captain to let him stay. Until then, all he could do was try and get as comfortable as possible, and hope the bumpy ride wasn’t going to be too long.

Captain enjoyed the warm sun on his face and the wind blowing past as he drove along through traffic toward the Keys. He glanced up at the clear blue skies and white clouds, reached over on the passenger seat, and pressed play on the portable CD player. It sang Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitude by Jimmy Buffett.

Chapter 2: A Flying Boat

The road sign along U.S. 1 said, ‘Welcome to Key Largo’. About time! I gotta piss like a gypsy waiting to break into the next house, Captain thought. The excitement of taking off was bubbling up inside. He would be there soon. Twenty minutes later he pulled into Steve’s while blowing the horn he confiscated off an old Peterbilt truck. The blowing horn gave the impression an eighteen wheeler was lumbering through the parking lot. In the back of the Jeep Mike lay covering his ears wondering what the hell was going on as he tried keeping his bladder from exploding.

Damn! I gotta take a piss, Mike thought. Wish he would slow down and take it easy. The Jeep finally came to an abrupt halt. Thank God.

Mike heard Captain jump out of the Jeep running. Seconds later a door slammed, and he knew this was his moment to get out and find the boat. Peeking out from under the canvas he discovered a boat marina. Next to the Jeep he saw a sign that said, ‘Steve’s Marina, Key Largo. Office.’

Gotta go now! Mike thought. He crawled out, pulled the cover back, and ran behind the office. Glancing around he saw no one. A dumpster sat between him and the office overlooking the water. Behind the dumpster he hid, relieving his stretching bladder. Ahhh, what joy it is to go, Mike thought as he glanced around hoping no one was watching the streaming display. Unfortunately, he spotted the mast of a sailboat peacefully gliding by. On deck were a group of four beauties glancing at his nether region.

Nice package, one of the hot girls said as they commenced a giggling parade.

Turning radiant red, he stood frozen. Like a tiki statue with all his glory hanging out for the world to see. Four hot females in bikinis stared at his manhood. The last thing he envisioned was a conversation when suddenly one of the girls called out to him.

Hey, you! said the hot girl. You’re something else taking a leak like that in plain sight.

Smiling, he sheepishly waved with his free hand.

My name is Jenn! What’s yours? she asked. Giggles still audible.

Hi. My name is Mike.

Well, Mike…. pleased to make your acquaintance.

Yeah. You, too.

Well, Mike. You better put that thing away. There’s big fish in these waters that’ll jump for bait that size! Jenn replied and waved good-bye.

Thanks for the warning, Mike answered embarrassed and quickly zipped up.

Hope to see you again, Mike. This is the island life– anything is possible. See-ya!

He was too stunned to say a word, and all he could do was wave good-bye as they disappeared out of the marina. That’s when he noticed the name of the sailboat. The Bikini Girl, he thought. That’ll be easy to remember.

Inside his office Steve was contemplating getting up when he heard the familiar truck horn blaring. Captain Yellow-top has arrived! he said as he stood up. Without warning the front door burst open, and Captain hurtled past him like a tornado.

Gotta take a piss!

I see that, Yellow, Steve replied shaking his head as he watched his old friend run into the bathroom, leaving the front door wide open. A second later he heard the familiar sound of water falling.

Ah…wow…that was close, Captain said as he saw Steve’s reflection in the mirror. Still wearing his faded blue overalls, t-shirt, and his lucky Navy ball cap. How you doing, buddy? Good to see you!

Yeah- you too. Make sure you wash your hands, Yellow. Steve grinned as he closed the front door.

Holy shit! Captain hollered as he glanced out a small window over the toilet.

What is it this time, Yellow? You fall in?

Very funny! Just spotted four hot sun bunnies in bikinis sail by!

Nothing new there, Steve replied in a matter-of-fact voice.

Oh, really, Captain replied as the toilet flushed. That’s something you don’t see very often up my way.

Then you should move down here permanently.

I’m working on it, Steve. Hoping for next summer to make the move permanently. I’m going to buy the house next to yours and we’ll be neighbors.

Sounds like a party to me, Steve said, but if you want the house next to me you’re going to have to beg for that one. I own it.

Man! You’re just full of surprises today.

They laughed and fell into a strong embrace.

Give me a good price, and I’ll buy it.

I’ll see what I can do, Steve said as he took Captain by the shoulder and walked him over to the window overlooking the boat yard. There she is, Yellow. The Latitude Jumper, all gassed up and ready to go. Wish I could go with you on this one.

Through the window Captain spotted his old seaplane floating in a carpet of sailboats.

He grinned. I could use a friend along. Think of all the fun you and I could have. All those islands, all that rum, and all those girls in bikinis!

I wish! Until I can find someone I can trust to run this place like I do, I’m pretty much grounded for the time being.

You’re too picky, Steve. Captain sat in front of Steve’s desk, his feet on the edge. You have qualified help, you’re just to afraid to let go of the reins for a summer.

Maybe you’re right, Yellow. Steve sat back behind his desk. So, where you headed this summer?

Hit the Berry islands first, stay the tonight, then fly over to Nassau in the morning. Top off with fuel, and then over to Crazy Joe’s. Eventually I’ll end up at Rum Cay to visit a friend of mine vacationing there with his wife.

Does this friend own a house or rent for the summer?

A house. There’s a beach and dock I can tie the Jumper to.

Excited, Captain stood up and looked out the window again at his flying boat.

How did you manage that, Yellow?

Interesting story, really…

There’s always a story with you…

I meet Fred this past winter in Chicago…

Fucking Chicago! In the fucking winter!

Yeah. It was the coldest I’ve been since I left the Navy! So anyway- That’s when I was introduced to Fred. Turns out Fred is a computer programmer like me. We were both contracted for two weeks to solve a programming problem, with another two weeks allotted if we needed it.

Ok? I’m still waiting for the house in Paradise part.

Hold your horses, Captain replied, his hands extended out sarcastically trying to finish his story. Turns out Fred invested in a computer chip company a few years back, and with the computer craze going on now, his company’s stock went through the roof and split twice. So he bought a place in Rum Cay. During those two weeks we got to know each other, and we solved the problem. Together we convinced the company we needed another two weeks. We handed over everything but one vital piece of programming. When it was realized we were going to solve their dilemma. Naturally, they agreed on another two weeks. They paid for, everything, Steve. I swear, everything! So, while they assumed we were working, we jumped on a plane and went south to Naples, Florida.

Un-fuckin-believable!

My sentiments exactly. We spent ten days fishing off the Gulf of Mexico with his wife and some of her girlfriends that tagged along. The festivities were monumental. Naturally, I received an open invitation.

You lead an interesting life, Steve said amazed.

Indeed I do! In a few days I’ll be there. White sandy beaches and cold margaritas!

Surrounded by a sea of sailboats, Mike sat patiently hiding out, waiting, and hoping to find which boat Captain would load his supplies into. Toward the back he spotted big fancy yachts. Naturally he hoped one of those was Captain’s chariot to paradise, where he hoped there would be plenty of room to hide inside, but the uncertainty of not knowing exactly which one was making him a little nervous. After a period of gazing intently around the marina, he finally got his bearings. His attention was diverted to the blue water. A color of blue he had never seen before. He found the overwhelming appearance of his new surroundings exceeded anything he had ever experienced. Off in the horizon he discovered a sliver of royal blue ocean dotted with sailboats. Without question, he knew this was the life he wanted to live and was eagerly ready for it. It was no surprise when he heard voices talking. Glancing around the corner, he spotted the two men boarding the Jeep and drive away. This was his chance. Feeling anxious, he started sprinting, and hiding behind trash cans, and supply boxes. Careful that no one was watching, he made a mad dash next to a big houseboat floating across the way. The name across the aft end caught his attention, the Busted Flush. Wondering about the meaning behind the unique name, he lay low when he spotted a tall man sprawled out on a recliner tanning himself on the aft deck. From under the hat covering the mans face he spotted gray hair as a few long sleepy snoring sounds accompanied the rising and lowering of the belly. He spotted scars along the mans tanned and leathery skin, leaving a strong impression in Mikes head. On the floor next to the man he saw a chilled drink sweating in the hot sun. Careful not to be found, he moved back and away. In his peripheral vision he thought he spotted a plane floating in the water, but quickly dismissed the pea-brained idea thinking it was a silly place for a plane. He crouched down and waited a minute. Slowly he looked around the side of the houseboat and to his surprise, he had been right. Not far from him sat a plane miraculously floating on the water. He spotted the two men unloading the contents of the Jeep onto the back of the plane. His distress started slowly and built to a head. Shit! I’ve never been on a plane before! I can’t go! How do I get back to the boys’ home? With cockamamie thoughts racing though his head, he crouched down frustrated. When he heard the two men talking, his ears perked up.

Sure you have enough food and supplies, Yellow? Steve asked curiously. All I see is rum, chocolate, bread, a whole case of Spam and water.

No worries. I’ll be spending a good amount of time with Fred. I’ll use his place as a base camp, and head back back to Joe’s if I need anything. Besides I like to catch my dinner, and grill it over a roaring fire overlooking the ocean, Captain said as he finished loading his flying boat. He closed the side hatch and secured it.

You have time for a cold beer before takeoff? Steve insinuated as he jumped in the passenger seat of the jeep.

Sure buddy, I’m starved.

Good! I’m hungry too. Crab cakes and beer. My treat! Steve insisted.

Sounds good to me.

Captain started the Jeep, backed up and headed out of the marina onto U.S. 1.

Mike needed time to digest his sudden predicament. The thought of flying was scary, but the thought of crashing and burning into the open sea was unsettling. Panic stricken, he took a few deep breaths and sat thinking. Ok- It can’t be that bad. I wanted adventure and to see the world. Here it is! Why did it have to be a plane? What would Billy think if I come crawling back? What about Sister Mary? She helped me get away. I can’t let them down. I’m just being a baby– get over it! Here’s my only chance. Go! He stood and looking around saw no one. Fast walking toward the floating plane he started to see it clearly. It looks relatively safe, he thought.

When he got closer, he realized it was a very old plane. Under each wing, near the tips were what looked like floats connected to the edges. He was aware the floats kept the plane’s wings from tipping into the water. He reached out and touched the wing overlapping the floating dock. On the tail end of the fuselage, in black faded paint he made out the ghostly words, U.S. Coast Guard. The tail had what resembled an American flag from top to bottom. The tops of the wings were yellow and the rest of the plane was silver with the top of the nose painted flat-black from the bottom of the windshield to the tip of the nose, like an arrow pointing north. The more he examined the old plane the more he admired it, reminding him of old WWII planes he’d seen and read about in National Geographic magazines. Straightaway he noticed the name painted on the side of the nose.

The Latitude Jumper, Mike whispered smiling.

Gazing in through the split windshield he spotted the pilot seats and in-between the seats a small doorway leading to the back of the plane. Glancing down the side, he spotted a wheel embedded in the plane and just over the wheel there was a window the pilot could look out. Directly under the window in bright yellow and red lettering was painted Captain Yellow-top.

Cool name, Mike thought.

Examining the two big engines mounted on the wings, he imagined what they would sound like when running. The more he studied the plane, the more he admired it. Any thoughts he had had earlier about crashing and burning had disappeared. Walking back to the front of the plane he sat on a trash can at the corner of the dock, studying every inch. After a few minutes he had the impression the plane sat looking back at him. He shook his head blinking his eyes, then gazing around again. That’s when he had an odd perception the plane seemed alive; it had character. The split windshield, the eyes. The two big engines, two hearts ready to go. The wings stretched out, ready to fly. His imagination was getting the best of him.

Hey, kid! What are you looking at? an old scruffy voice said. Well? – what are you waiting for? You gonna sit there all day? Get in kid!

Yes, sir! Mike thought. Realizing a spiritual conversation with the Latitude Jumper just occurred, he shook off the wild imagination and focused. Pushing aside any further crazy fantasies, and quickly realized he’d better find a way inside. With the plane bobbing in the water he tried turning the lever on the rear hatch. Nothing. He remembered the open hatch on the nose of the plane. From the open hatch led a rope tied to the dock. He stuck his head down through the hatch. He spotted a small doorway leading into the cockpit. He took off his backpack and let it drop inside, then carefully slid his feet inside and wiggled his way in. It was a cramped and tight fit inside. The smell of oil, gas, and exhaust fumes lingered. Now he could see through the doorway leading inside. He pushed his backpack in first, then pulled himself through and stood up slowly between the two pilot seats to find himself facing the cockpit and a sea of gauges and instruments. Strange levers, switches and lights hung from the ceiling over the pilot seats. Wow!

A few miles down the street Captain and Steve pulled into the parking lot of the Tropic of Largo, a local watering hole for Key Largo pirates. An old rundown boathouse transformed into a bar overlooking the water. Leaning against the bar, Dominic sat chatting with friends and customers when he spotted the familiar green Jeep.

Well, well, well. Look what I see.

Dominic was a tall brick-house of a man whose large frame carried an extra fifty pounds of love handles and a pot belly that spilled over the waist of his blue jeans and glossy black leather belt. Everyone had heard he was a Hollywood stunt man who walked with a limp on his right leg. With a crop of thick jet-black hair and long side burns, he resembled a very pissed-off, Elvis Presley.

Hmm! Dominic grunted.

He got up and walked into the kitchen. Returning seconds later holding a shiny new meat cleaver.

No! Dom! Don’t you dare! I mean it, Dom! Sexy Sue yelled when she realized who had just arrived. Be nice, Dom!

It’s good to be back, Captain said as he parked his Jeep. You think Dom’s still pissed at me?

Don’t know, Yellow. That was last summer, Steve replied. We’ll find out. He opened the front door and walked in with Yellow in tow. Fuck! Steve wailed. The meat cleaver landed with a wallop on the door frame next to their heads.

Thanks for the present, Dom. Love you too, Captain said examining the shiny cutting device. Like I said, Steve… It’s good to be back.

That’s not funny, Dom! Steve hollered. Frustrated he made his way to the bar and found a corner stool by Sexy Sue. A shot of Appleton and a beer, please.

With a grave and solemn face Dom headed for Captain, knocking over the first table and chairs along the way.

Oh, shit! He’s really pissed! Captain yelled at Steve.

Guess so, Steve replied with a tip of a frosty beer.

Who died and made you Seaplane God! Dom hollered. Every time you take off in that goddamned Goose of yours, you fly over over my bar! Shakes the whole goddamned place up! Not to mention all the beer mugs, bottles and shot glasses that shatter every damned time!

Dom… You know I’m just having fun, Captain added nervously. Here! A hundred bucks. You can have it. Just for you, buddy.

Standing eye to eye with Captain, Dom angrily reached up and took the money. Unexpectedly, he took hold of Captain around the neck and jokingly thrashed him about, laughing.

Scared the shit out of you, Yellow, didn’t I! Dom said dragging his friend under his arm, and forcing him to sit at the bar.

Naahh! I knew you were kidding.

Bullshit! You looked like you were going to shit a brick!

I was.

Ok, boys! What are you having today? Dom interrupted. It’s on me, Sue.

You’re the best, Dom, Sexy Sue replied, sliding a cold beer in front of Captain. She was Dom’s girlfriend. A petite, and curvy brunette with big brown eyes.

I’ll have the crab cakes with cole-slaw, Steve said.

Same. Add fries with honey mustard with mine, Captan added and made a toast to Dom.

Here’s to you, Dom.

You bet your ass, Yellow!

The three amigos clinked their beers together followed by long swigs.

So when are you taking off? Dom asked.

After lunch. The Jumper’s all gassed up and ready to go.

Sounds good, Yellow. Usual summer tour of the islands?

You got it. Always a party to crash and never ever a dull moment.

On the flight deck, Mike could feel the old plane floating beneath his feet as he crawled around. Slowly he stepped in through the second doorway. Inside he was surprised at how much room there was, enough to stand upright. He spotted the cot Sister Mary mentioned, along with the supplies Captain had loaded onboard. There was also camping equipment, and tools. Each neatly stowed away in its own custom made place. He squatted, examining the space under the cot.

Good- enough room.

He dropped the backpack on the cot and sat quietly leaning against the fuselage. Through a window he could see the water that lay under his feet. Entranced by the magic of the old plane he walked back onto the flight deck where he stood absorbing every detail again. He noticed maps, flashlights, barf bags, photos of Captain with people he guessed were his friends and girlfriends. Lots of them. Most of the pictures were of hot girls in bikinis. He saw a group shot taken on the back of a fishing boat with Captain in the middle of two guys, each holding fishing rods. He recognized the older guy he had just seen with Captain, but there was an odd familiarity about the other. He resembled a W.W.F. wrestler with an Elvis hairstyle, and next to him stood a tiny sexy woman. He knew by the expressions on their faces that it must have been a fun day. One picture jumped out at him. It was of Captain standing next to a woman in a bikini on a white beach somewhere, but there was something familiar about her. Like he’d had seen her before. Pushing the thought aside, he couldn’t resist the temptation of sitting in the pilot’s chair. Careful not to touch a thing, he pulled himself up, into the pilot’s seat. The plane shifted again in the water. He had a clear view of the clustered instruments now in front of him. Through the split windshield he could see the open ocean past the marina entrance. He reached up and put on the headset and started talking into the mic, pulling on the controls.

Control tower, Come in control tower, over?

Control tower here, he continued, still pretending.

Hey, control tower, this is Captain Yellow-top. I’m ready for take off, over.

We copy you, Yellow-top. Proceed to take off, have a nice flight, over.

Thank you control tower, over.

Feeling like a kid left all alone in a toy store and loving it, a wide grin spread across his face. After a few more minutes of daydreaming he realized it was getting warm in the plane from the afternoon sun. It was time to get ready for his disappearing act. He went back to the cot and pushed his backpack under to use as a pillow when the time came to hide. Until then, he needed some fresh air. Gazing out through the hatch to make sure no one was around, he was surprised to hear an unexpected voice.

Hey! You dere! Do ya beelong in dat plane, mon?

Mike froze stock still, and scared shitless. A skinny black man stood facing him with hair that resembled snakes hanging from his head. He was wearing a white polo shirt with Steve’s Marina embroidered on the front, blue jeans and flip-flops. Guessing he was Steve’s employee, Mike bluffed. In a matter of fact voice he said, Yeah! I’m supposed to be here. Who are you?

What! I be da one askin’ da-questions, boy mon! You bess be Cap’n Yella-top’s friend, udderwise you in big trah-bah for be-in in dat plane!

Mike knew that if he wanted to get out of this sudden headache, he was going to have to rely on survival skills honed during years of moving from one orphanage to the next. Quick as a flash he jumped out of the plane and onto the dock with a big smile, his hand extended out for the stranger.

Hey! No worries man. I’m with Captain. I told him I would wait here whilst he got a bite to eat with Steve. They went that way, I’m guessing they should be back any minute now. What’s your name?

Skinny examined him with a suspicious stare.

Allo. I be Skinny, mon. I work here for Steve. Whad ‘bout yo-self?

I’m Mike. Captain invited me along this summer, so I said yes. Mike pointed at the Jumper. I mean who wouldn’t want to ride in that.

Skinny looked less suspicious, finally shaking Mike’s hand.

Well? Ya don look like no teef to me. If ya say ya-know Capt-n, then ya-must, Skinny replied, dropping his guard.

I’m no thief Skinny. I was just resting before the trip. I was coming out for some fresh air that’s all, Mike said as he gazed past Skinny to see if any one had arrived.

"Ok boy. Ya bes be careful in da plane and tell Cap’n,