SS Pacifica Read online

  SS Pacifica

  Author

  Ronnie Coleinger

  Publisher

  Ronnie Coleinger Publishing

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright © [Ronnie Coleinger, pseudo.] 2009

  Illustration copyright © [Ronnie Coleinger, pseudo.] 2009

  http://www.ronniecoleinger.com

  SS Pacifica

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 - The Storm at the 30th Parallel

  Chapter 2 - Where the Story Began

  Chapter 3 - The Sailing Submersible

  Chapter 4 - Chamber Pots and Boys Toys

  Chapter 5 - A Run in the Rain

  Chapter 6 - The Finishing Touches

  Chapter 7 - Sea Trials

  Chapter 8 - Sinking Becky’s Boat

  Chapter 9 - Becky’s Prince

  Chapter 10 - The Wedding

  Chapter 11 - Day Ten on the Pacifica

  Chapter 12 - The Storm at the 30th Parallel - continued

  Chapter 13 - Day Twenty-Two

  Chapter 14 - Oahu, Hawaii

  Chapter 15 - Midway Islands and the Musicians Seamounts

  Chapter 16 - The Pacifica’s New Look

  Chapter 17 - The Adventure Continues

  Chapter 18 - The Sale of the Pacifica

  Chapter 19 - The Final Voyage

  Chapter 20 - We Build Anew

  Chapter 21 – Oahu – We Return Again

  Chapter 22 – The Shakedown Run

  Chapter 23 – Paying Uncle Pika a Visit

  Chapter 24 - San Francisco, Here We Come

  Chapter 25 – Outfitting the SS Pacifica-Two

  Chapter 26 – The Shopping List

  Chapter 27 – Moving Into Our New Home

  Chapter 28 – We Set Sail to Panama

  Chapter 29 – Crossing the Equator

  Chapter 30 – The Panama Canal Crossing

  Chapter 31 – Hurricane Warning for the Caribbean Sea

  Chapter 32 – A Port of Call on the Island of Jamaica

  Chapter 33 – Sailing into the Gulf of Mexico

  Chapter 34 – Key West Florida

  Chapter 35 – Cape Lookout

  Chapter 36 – Port of Call - Barbados

  Chapter 37 – Christmas at Sea

  Chapter 38 – The Falkland Islands

  Chapter 39 – The Beagle Canal

  Chapter 40 – Easter Island – Moai Statues

  Chapter 41 – The Death of Charlie’s Father

  Chapter 42 – Home Again

  Chapter 43 – Sandra Marie McCarthy

  Chapter 1 - The Storm at the 30th Parallel

  We had just crossed the 30th parallel when we ran headlong into the storm front. As the SS Pacifica rolled onto her starboard side in the twenty-foot tall waves, Becky and I found ourselves desperately trying to right ourselves in the cabin. Fortunately, we had taken precautions during the voyage to keep everything securely stowed that might become a projectile and injure us. As we tried to gather our wits about us, the vessel rolled again and this time we found ourselves sitting on the ceiling that had now become the new floor. I spoke to Becky to insure she was unharmed, and then realized that the water in the ballast tanks was holding the vessel in this inverted position. I needed to blow the seawater out of the ballast tank on one side before this vessel would right itself in the stormy seas.

  I quickly moved to the air compressor in the stern and pushed the toggle switch to the on position. The compress began pumping and I watched the gauge on the storage tank begin to move upwards until it reached 8-bar (120 PSI). Now that I was certain we had an adequate volume of air to blow the tanks, I began slowly opening the valves and allowing the stored air to begin filling the starboard ballast tank. Once the air forced the water out of the tank, the vessel should right itself on its own. Becky and I had carefully stored the heaviest objects at the bottom of the vessel. Therefore, gravity, the design of the hull, the one empty ballast tank, and the waves of the ocean should restore the floor to its proper location below our feet.

  The vessel quickly righted itself and I heard Becky scream. I shut off the valves that allowed air to enter the ballast tanks and held the pressure inside the tanks at twenty PSI. This air would act like a life preserver and help keep us from ending up on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. The air compressor quickly refilled the storage tank and I turned the switch to the off position. Just as I tried to stand, I heard Becky cuss, raise the lid on one of the minnow buckets, puke into the container and then quickly slam the lid shut to keep the contents safely stored inside. She looked up at me and said, “Don’t you dare laugh at me Stanley or I swear I will toss the contents of this bucket all over you and watch you puke.” I quickly told her I was sorry that her stomach was upset, but she took little solace in my comforting words. I opened the dive valves and put some seawater back into the starboard ballast tank to level out the Pacifica.

  The storm was short lived, and within the hour, the sea waves calmed considerably. When we were certain it was safe to open the hatch and venture back up onto the deck, I realized that the color had returned to Becky’s face. As I opened the bow hatch and climbed up the ladder into the fresh ocean air, I reached down, took the bucket from Becky and rinsed it out in the sea. As Becky joined me on deck, we began looking around and realized the storm had passed us and was now far off in the east. To our west and north was nothing by beautiful blue sky and the gentle white capped waves that scurried along in pursuit of the departing storm.

  Chapter 2 - Where the Story Began

  I had just returned from visiting my ex-wife’s home where my daughter Dawn was visiting for two weeks. Dawn was twenty-four and now had her law degree. She acquired a job with a local practicing attorney and she hoped to begin trying cases after a few months of training. My ex (June) and I had stayed on relatively good terms. My presence in her beachfront guesthouse did not seem to disturb her, at least not that I could tell. She was not seeing anyone on a regular basis and I suspect that was another reason she tolerated my presence. If another male had been around, she probably would have kicked my sorry ass off the property within twenty-four hours.

  Another reason she tolerated me was that I always paid well for the use of the beach house. During this trip, I had offered to pay cash for my time there and to help pay for groceries during my visit, but June had other ideas. The roof that faced the ocean was in bad need of new shingles and she hoped I would replace them during my visit. Dawn had agreed to help, so I agreed to the arrangement. Dawn loved getting dirt under her fingernails and a few blisters on places other than her ass from sitting. She told me on the first day of our visit that she was sick and tired of school, sick of sitting around getting educated, and it was now time to earn her place in this world she lived in. I felt proud of her comments and watched in amazement as she pried old shingles off the roof and threw them down into the dumpster. I did feel sorry for her when she slipped and skinned both knees on some loose shingles lying on the old roof. After that, we were very careful to keep the working area clean. I did not want Dawn’s attorney boss filing charges against me for child abuse.

  ***

  Once I had returned home from my vacation, I sat down at my desk and began reading the dozens of unread emails on my computer. I came across one from an old friend of mine that I had met at college while
getting my engineering degree. Becky wrote that she had tried calling me a dozen times and had left five or six messages on my answering machine, to no avail. I looked over at the answering machine and chuckled at how fast the red light was blinking. There must be a dozen or more messages on it. I continued to read Becky’s email and soon discovered that she had designed, and was in the process of building a submarine that she intended to use to sail around the Pacific Ocean in quest of new unexplored islands. She said that she had saved enough money to fund this adventure, and I realized she was asking if I needed a place to do research for my next novel, and to see the Pacific Islands at the same time. I chuckled over her words because as I remember it, the woman was very wealthy. I formed a mental picture of a nuclear submarine with huge sails flying off the deck as it tried to visit a small-inhabited island in the Pacific Polynesia Island chain. I laughed as I read the words Becky had written for a second time, trying to form a mental picture of this submarine that sailed in my mind.

  I had finished deleting all the messages left on my answering machine by people who wanted to sell me such things as a free cruise to the Bahamas (if I sent them a few hundred dollars), to a man wanting me to sponsor his dog in a basketball tournament. Then I returned my attention to the remaining email messages. I opened the message from Becky again and read her offer for me to accompany her on this six to nine month adventure to the Pacific Islands. I leaned back in my chair and considered her offer. I had few responsibilities that would keep me home since I had recently retired. I had a small but adequate retirement plan, and I would love to sail the Polynesian Islands and beyond. I remembered that I had always got along quite well with Becky and remembered that all it took to please her was a cold beer, a roaring campfire, and some good company. I also loved the same things she did. I decided to call her and further discuss this proposed adventure.

  I picked up the phone and dialed the number she had left on the answering machine. The phone rang twice and I heard a female voice say, “What the hell took you so long to call me? How is a girl supposed to plan a summer vacation when her partner will not return her calls?” I giggled and said, “Hello Becky. Good to hear your voice again after all these years.” I heard her laugh that deep belly laugh she was famous for and say, “Well, are you going to join me or not?” I laughed and said, “I just might take you up on this adventure, but as I remember it, you only graduated with a B-grade average in mechanical engineering. How can I trust a B-grade graduate to build a vessel that will not sink in the middle of the Pacific and drown my cute tanned ass?” She laughed and said, “If I fly you out here to California and seduce you, would you consider looking at my work to see if it meets your magna cum laude standards?” That response earned the woman my upmost attention. I said, “Tell me what day you want me to come, and I will be there to check you out.” She giggled as she thought about my words for a moment, and then said, “I will schedule your flight for three days from now if that is okay. When you arrive, we will further discuss your seduction. I desperately need your electrical engineering skills.” She told me to bring hot weather clothing, but also some Under Armour to keep warm on wet or cold days. Raingear for when we are standing watch, and then commented that since I had worked in Hawaii a couple of times, I would know what clothing to bring. I heard her giggle as she told me to put my stuff in duffle bags, as there is no place for suitcases or such in my, our, vessel.

  She continued with her narrative of her vessel and told me that she had twelve-volt direct current power aboard the vessel from batteries and from two generators. She told me to bring my laptop, cell phone, eReader, or other small electronics that I wanted. She had small inverters on board that would supply 120-volt alternating current to recharge such things as my electric razor and laptop. She doubted if we would have Internet access very often, but around some of the islands, we might be able to answer emails and get cell phone service. She told me that she had purchased an air card for her laptop to allow her to get on the Internet whenever she could get cell phone service and that I might consider that option. She reminded me that most everything was more expensive in California. Then she said, “I will have your tickets sent to your email address by late tomorrow.” Becky stopped talking, and I heard her take a deep breath. She giggled again and said, “Sorry, I get long winded when I get excited. Your consideration of taking this adventure with me has me all giddy.” As I ended the conversation with her, I began making a list of the things I would have to do in the next two days before leaving on an extended vacation.

  The following morning, I did my banking and began laying out the things that I would take with me. I sorted the electronic devices, cords, and backup jump drives I wanted to take; however, I was careful not to take things I would seldom use. I did the same with my clothing. I packed what I would need to keep me comfortable, yet realized I would be in the company of a lady for the next six to nine months and would need to sleep in pajamas instead of my birthday suit. I also packed extra toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorant, and a few bars of soap. I also called my doctors office, explained that I would be sailing the Pacific, and requested a prescription for three extra asthma inhalers along with extra written prescriptions that would allow me to purchase more if we visited an island with medical supplies. The doctor had no problem with my requests and even had his receptionist write one prescription in Spanish for me to carry. Then I visited the computer store and purchased two extra laptop batteries and a special charger so I could always have at least one extra charged battery. I purchased the charger with a 12-volt car charger attachment and then purchased two battery clips in case I needed to connect the charger directly to the vessels battery system.

  When I arrived home, I had an email waiting for me on my desktop computer. When I opened it, I found my plane tickets from the airlines. Becky had also sent me an email with my itinerary, along with a message stating that she would be picking my up at LAX when my plane arrived. She said, “I have a large house with plenty of room, so you can stay with me. I will need your assistance often in my workshop as I complete outfitting the remaining equipment and supplies for our trip, if you agree to join me. I would like you to think about a solar cell system that we could place on the deck of the vessel during sunny days to help charge the 12-volt batteries. I have twenty, 12-volt batteries, each rated at 35 AH. The battery type is a newer design called AGM (Absorbed Glass Mat). The reason for using them is that they require no ventilation, they cannot spill their contents even if damaged, we can charge them with any charger and they work in any position. Since this vessel is of the submarine class, it may roll over in high seas, so the batteries must be able to withstand that environment. If my supplier has misinformed me in the use of this type of battery for my vessel, please let me know and we will correct the problem as soon as you arrive. The batteries are still in their original cartons so we can easily return them if need be. Again, I am excited and cannot quit talking.”

  Then I discovered that Becky had added a postscript at the bottom of the email. It read, “One last question before I let you go. Do you know how to use a sextant for star navigation? I was just wondering about your navigational skills. See you at the airport on Friday.”

  After reading the email, I quickly sent a reply to calm Becky’s mind. I wrote, “The batteries are exactly what are required. Your supplier did you justice with his battery selection. I will look into a solar array for the deck to help charge the batteries. I have used a sextant many times over the years, but I will need a refresher course in its use. Hope this calms your mind a little. I would like to make just one last comment before I close. I like a partner that tells me what is on their mind. Please keep talking as much as you like. The 5-P’s of engineering state that Proper Planning Prevents Piss Pour Performance, and all that rubbish. See you on Friday.”

  Chapter 3 - The Sailing Submersible

  As I gathered my luggage at the baggage claim carousel, I looked around and spotted Becky standing just inside of the
exit doors. When I looked at her, she recognized me and quickly began walking in my direction. As I picked up my briefcase and began walking in her direction, I realized that she looked just as incredible today as she did the last time I saw her. I decided it had been seven years since we had talked during a high school class reunion in New York. When she stepped up close to me, she held out her arms and began hugging. I put my bags on the floor, pulled her into my arms, and hugged her hard. As she stepped back, I realized she had tears in her eyes, but she was also giggling. She finally spoke and said, “I was afraid you might have gained forty pounds and lost all your hair by now. You look just as I remember you the last time I hugged you in New York.” I walked around her as she turned her head to watch me checking her out. She giggled and said, “Do I meet your approval?” I laughed and said, “You are just as beautiful as the last time I saw you, you have not aged one day since New York.”

  As I picked up my bags, she said, “I have a taxi reserved just outside the door. The traffic is atrocious today. There is a ball game tonight and everyone within a hundred miles of the stadium is in a bad mood.” I laughed and said, “One of the reasons I don’t live in California is the traffic.” As we loaded my luggage into the trunk of the taxi, I asked her. Why is it that you are not married and raising a huge family? She laughed and said, “Could not find a man with the same passions as I have. The general male population does not take kindly to the adventurous side of me. Most want a trophy wife to care for their home and children; I don’t fit that bill in their minds.” I put my hand on her shoulder and said, “Good for you. I find it admirable that you love the engineering field and have done well with your education. Anyone can raise a child; few can build a sea worthy craft to explore the high seas.”