Back from his last trip down south, Clark was waiting for AJ to get off work at the strip club, and relaxing with a beer in Vamp’s cockpit. He was checking out a couple of pretty young girls sunbathing on the foredeck of a Gulfstar fifty-footer three slips away when the ringtone of Jimmy Buffett singing about “Wasting away in Margaritaville” on his cellular startled him out of his daydreams. He fumbled the phone open and said “Talk to me.”
“Yo Clark. It’s your brother Billy. Hey listen, I’ve been talking with this guy I know, and he needs someone with a boat for a coke pickup about twenty miles offshore tomorrow night from a freighter. My boat is fucked up. I blew a head gasket on one of the engines last week. It’s worth a quick twenty grand. Got any ideas?”
Clark hesitated only for a moment, and said, “Yeah, AJ’s staying on board this sailboat in the Grove while the owner’s away delivering some fancy yacht. I can sail it. AJ works tomorrow until after three in the morning. We can take this boat to do the pickup at six in the evening and have it back here by midnight. She’ll never know about it and we won’t even have to worry about Customs. As far as they’ll know, we’re just coming back from a day out enjoying a sail.”
“Good stuff, Clark. I’ll set it up. I can sure use the cash. What’s the name of the boat? I’ll see ya tomorrow afternoon.”
Clark ended the call after giving Billy Vamp’s location, and rummaged through the chart table to find the keys to start the outboard engines. He sat there for a few moments tossing the keys from hand to hand and thinking. His conscience was telling him that scheme he’d just agreed to was dishonest and so very wrong in every way, but he also realised that greed was going to win out in the end. After all, he rationalised, there was little risk involved and they’d have Vamp safely back in her slip before anyone noticed she was gone. AJ came home long after he’d fallen asleep, and they spent only a half hour catching up on things together the following day before she headed off to work again.
At five-thirty, Clark fired up the two big outboards and singled up the dock lines. Billy came sauntering down the dock a few minutes later dressed in his usual garb of a tee shirt advertising one of the bars he patronized in Hialeah, stained khaki shorts and flip-flops. Where Clark looked like a nerdy Clark Kent, albeit with a tan, Billy looked every bit the South Florida beach bum. When he was working, it was for a slightly shady aluminum siding installer in Hialeah, but the days when he reported for work lately had been only when he was low on cash to feed his growing cocaine habit.
“Hey, Clarkie. Let’s get this show on the road. We can get her done. and collect the Benjamins before the bars close. Here’s the GPS numbers for where we meet the freighter.”
Considering that Vamp was more than twice the size of any vessel Clark had handled before, it was a wonder that the two of them managed to navigate out of the marina and out the channels to the Atlantic without a mishap. The simplicity of the sail handling systems and the idiot-proof GPS helped. A short time later, Clark and Billy were sailing along towards the rendezvous point entered into the nav system with the lights of the city beginning to illuminate the buildings onshore behind them. It was a quiet night on the ocean with only a light chop and a fifteen knot breeze propelling them along in the gathering darkness.
“Hey, Clark. Can you work the radar? There’s a repeater here in the cockpit. We should be able to see what’s going to intercept our course. Let’s see what shows up.”, said Billy.
Clark ducked below to the navigation station, turning the wheel over to Billy. He popped back up immediately, saying, ”Ok. let’s see what we have”. After several attempts at fine tuning the display and range, Clark had the range finder successfully set to twenty-five miles. The sweep of the cursor on the muted green display showed the outline of the Miami shoreline nine miles behind them and a green blob some miles distant slowly moving northwards. The only other targets appearing on the display seemed to be a couple of smaller boats heading towards Miami. Pointing out the northbound target, Clark said, “That’s got to be our guy, on time and on course. We’ll know for sure in a little bit. What did your contact say about the transfer?”
“Just that they’d slow down enough to keep steerage way. We’re supposed to run parallel to them at the same speed, and blink our spotlight four times low at her hull. They’ll use the cargo boom to lower the package to us. It will be wrapped and taped inside a life preserver.”, replied Billy.
They continued on the compass course indicated by the GPS unit as the target they were tracking on the radar screen drew steadily closer and closer. At twenty-two minutes after nine, Billy exclaimed, “There she is!” Crossing their bow and slowing in the water, they could see a rusty old hull about two hundred feet long without running lights, and tendrils of green slime fouling its waterline. Billy flashed Vamp’s portable spotlight four times quickly down low on the side of the ship. As Clark steered alongside, they saw the cargo boom swung out from high overhead. Dangling from a slim cable was a package two feet square wrapped in reflective duct tape. It swung back and forth as if on a pendulum. The unseen boom operator above paid out the cable rapidly allowing it to drop with a thump on Vamp’s port hull. Billy unhooked the cable and lugged the bulky parcel into the cockpit. The freighter bore off, increased her speed, and soon vanished into the darkness. The entire operation had taken less than five minutes.
“Billy“, said Clark. “Way up forward, there’s life preservers stowed under the starboard bunk. Lift up the mattress and you’ll find them. Unwrap all the duct tape and hide that under all the other life vests.”
He came back ten minutes later and tossed the wadded up duct tape overboard, saying, “There’s gotta be at least fifteen kilos of coke there, allowing for a few pounds for the life preserver. I put it way at the bottom of the pile.”
“Good!”, replied Clark. “Let’s get this boat back to the Grove before AJ gets home. We won’t need the radar to get us back to Miami.” All was uneventful until they were entering Government Cut, just a few scant miles from the slip at Dinner Cay. Suddenly, Vamp was skewered by a powerful floodlight and a Coast Guard forty-footer neither of them had seen was hailing them via loudhailer. “Sailing vessel, Vamp. Follow me astern to the Customs dock and make fast to the pier. All hands are to remain on deck in plain sight. You will be boarded for a safety inspection.”
Billy and Clark looked at one another, simultaneously exclaiming “Oh, shit”. With no choice other than to comply and an almost paralysing fear that this was not going to be a routine safety inspection, Clark steered Vamp behind the cutter to the pier. Once the dock lines were made fast, a half dozen of the Coast Guard crewmen boarded Vamp with weapons at the ready. Their leader, a slim man in full uniform said, “I’ll need your ship’s documents, and you gentlemen will remain here in the cockpit while my crew examines this vessel.” No mention was made of a safety inspection. With no place to run, Clark and Billy could only sit in resignation and hope.
“Lieutenant, we’ve got something here.”, a voice from down below called out. One of the Coast Guard crew climbed up the main companionway with the life preserver that was wrapped around the parcel of cocaine in his arms. “We found this buried beneath eight other life preservers up in the forepeak. Looks like serious weight!”
The two men standing by Clark and Billy deftly snapped flexicuffs around their wrists as the lieutenant commanding the cutter said, “You are both under arrest for suspicion of possession of a controlled substance with intent to distribute, and this vessel is impounded pending your trial. We have been tracking you since you left Miami early this evening.”
Billy and Clark were hustled off Vamp and into a waiting van for transportation to the Federal detention center.
When AJ arrived back at the marina in the wee hours of the morning, she could only gape at the empty slip where Vamp should be in disbelief. In panic, she looked up at Slo Motion in the slip opposite and saw the flickering light of the television screen. On boarding the old houseboat, she spied Lorna asleep on the settee in front of the TV and tapped on the door. Lorna awoke and opened the door. “AJ. What’s up? I fell asleep watching Leno. What time is it?”
AJ blurted out, “Lorna, it’s really late. Do you know what happened to Vamp? She’s not in her slip.”
“Yeah, Clark and this other guy took her out around dinnertime. I figured you knew. Aren’t they back?”
“I’m going to kill that sonofabitch. He has no business using the boat without permission. Do you think I should call the Coast Guard?”
“God no.”, replied Lorna. “They probably are just having fun and lost track of time. Hey, Clark may be an asshole at times, but you don’t want to get the Coast Guard involved. Grab a blanket and get some sleep. They’ll be back by the time you wake up.”
AJ curled up and dropped off to sleep, thinking of how she’d tear Clark a new one when they returned from wherever the hell they’d gone. She awoke at six to Suzy and Lorna screaming, “AJ. Wake up!” Bleary eyed, she focused on where they were pointing towards the TV. On screen was a reporter announcing, “This breaking news just in from overnight. Two unidentified men were arrested late last evening in possession of a large quantity of cocaine. This all took place shortly before midnight at the Customs pier in Government Cut. The two individuals involved have been taken into custody, and will be arraigned later today at the Federal courthouse downtown. The vessel involved has been seized under the zero tolerance law. We’ll bring you more details as they become available.”
The three women stared in disbelief at the TV as footage of Vamp tied up at the pier was broadcast to viewers all over Miami. AJ held her head in her hands, groaning, “How in hell am I going to tell Jimmy and Birgit about this?”
