The Arcturus Man (42 page)

Chapter Twenty-One – To Kuna Yala
At Sea
Late December – Late Afternoon

Jared pulled up anchor and headed west. There was no wind. The sun was boiling in the ocean. The moon was going to be full tonight.
He decided to risk sailing at
night. There weren’t many shallows in this region. They were about a hundred miles west
of Key West. He wanted to get past the western tip of Cuba before they anchored for the
night. He wanted to give Cuba a wide berth. Their patrol boats could be aggressive. He
charted a course that kept them well into international waters.

Jenny brought up some coffee.
“Thanks. Is this the Jamaican Blue Mountain or the other stuff?” asked Jared.
“Jamaican! Where are we?”
“We’re north of Cuba. I’m going to take her west past Cuba and then turn south.”
“You said we would be in Panama in four days?”
“Four, maybe three. I’m trying for three. The engine seems to be doing its job.
I

think I can push it a little. Jenny, there are some CDs beneath the TV in that little cabinet.

Why don’t you watch a movie for a while?”
“OK, let me know if you want me to relieve you,” she said.
“Will do.”
Jenny went down into the galley. She closed the hatch behind her. They used the

air conditioner as little as possible, but this was a hot night. A few minutes later he could
hear the TV. She found a movie she liked.

By eleven o’clock, they still hadn’t rounded Cuba.
Jared found a shallow bank
and anchored for the night.
He went down to the cabin and found Jenny asleep in his
bed.
She moved back to their cabin. He had been hoping she would. He undressed and
slowly climbed in beside her. Her perfume found him in the darkness. She had perfume
on.
That was very special. He didn’t know if it was the bull shark or if it was making
love to Jenny, but his depression was gone. He felt good again.

Next Morning

Jared was up early. It wasn’t quite six. He didn’t want to wake Jenny so he used
the aft shower and head. He turned on the shower. Jenny walked in on him.
“You said we needed to conserve water,” she said.
“Yes, that is very very important,” he said.
“Then move over a bit.”
He gave her a soft, gentle kiss. It was an innocent kiss. Her lips lightly brushed
across his. They soaped each other down and kissed again. Caressing her soapy breasts
and hard nipples was something he never tired of. She was wet. She felt so different wet.
The feel of her was thrilling.
Jared was aroused.
This was the first time that Jared ever
made love to a woman standing up and the first time in a shower. He wanted to do this
again. Soon!
No words were spoken. It was raw passion. Jenny made squealing noises
as she came to orgasm. Jared came too but the feeling of having given pleasure to Jenny
was the best reward.
Pleasing anyone had never been a very bright star in his constellation.
It was a
concept he had rarely thought about.
At most, morality was a cultural approbation for
Jared, not a mandate. He felt he was free to pick and choose among the various mores of
society. So too, love was only cultural--up until now, at least. In general, people didn’t
matter to him. Up until now! It was so different with Jenny. He hadn’t felt this way the
other times they made love. Why was it different this time? He didn’t know.
He wasn’t
accustomed to not knowing…not understanding.
It was unsettling and pleasing at the
same time. Normally, there was no indecision in Jared’s life. Every effect had a cause. If
the cause wasn’t understood, it was to be studied until it was understood. Jenny and his
feelings for Jenny were a mystery to Jared and Jared had very few mysteries in his life.
The only other anomaly in his life was not understanding his place in this world.
That
was inscrutable. For the moment those were the only things in Jared’s life that could not
be understood. Did it matter? He was happy. That was a rare feeling too. She had made
him feel happy before, but could he be even happier. He had to stop thinking about it.
They went back to the cabin and dressed.
“I think it’s my turn to make breakfast,” he said.
“Great. Then I’ll do some laundry.”
She gathered up some of their clothes and
took them into the galley.
There was a small closed-cycle clothes washer under the gas
stove.
She turned back to Jared.
“By the way, thank you for Christmas. That was very
thoughtful and sweet,” she said.
Jared just smiled and nodded his acceptance of the compliment. He set up a card
table on the aft deck and set up breakfast. He brought out a French press.
His Capresso
coffee machine had been great, but it was gone now. It might have been a rationalization,
but he thought that nothing beats a French press for strong coffee. He needed strong coffee this morning. He began to think about his feelings for Jenny.
He had to stop thing about things he couldn’t resolve.
The answers would come
to him when they were ready.
Now it was almost eight and the temperature was already in the high seventies. It
was going to be a scorcher today.
Jenny came up wearing tight khaki shorts and nothing else.
“It’s going to be hot. It’s not fair that you men get to go shirtless and I can’t.”
“My all means, you must go shirtless too then,” said Jared.
She gave him a quick kiss and then sat down for breakfast. Jared made scrambled
eggs with chives and smoked bacon.
“No more fish for a while, OK?” she said.
“No fish,” he replied.
“Wow, this is strong coffee. It tastes a little gritty…but it’s good. Very good!”
“You’ve never used a French press before?”
“I think I’ve seen Krissy use one. She is a real coffee hound.”
They talked for a while.
The conversation wasn’t about the men after them or
what they would do in Panama. It was about the Caribbean and the beautiful islands Jenny had seen. It was about the wonderful weather and that she couldn’t believe that it was
December, and what the weather must be like in Maine. They talked almost an hour.
It
dawned on Jared that this was what domestic life was probably like. It was very nice.
They gathered the dishes and washed them together.
Jared washed and Jenny
dried. It was a warm and genuine familial feeling. He liked it. It was something new for
him. He was accustomed to living alone, but this was very nice. Soon, it might all change
again. He didn’t want to think about that.
Jared pulled in the anchor and they were on their way again. About an hour later,
Jenny brought up more coffee for Jared. She had used the French press.
“I found the instructions in the junk drawer,” she said.
“It’s perfect. Thanks.”
She strung a line across the aft deck and hung up their wet clothes. Her red panties blew in the wind like a flag. Jared saluted each time he passed. Jenny just laughed.

Jared pushed the cruiser hard and by eleven in the evening they were approaching
the Swan Islands. It was a fifteen-hour day, but they were making very good time. Time
was critical. They anchored for the night off of Little Swan.
A boat came out to check
their papers, but it was a formality. Jared paid a small fee. He locked the hatches for the
night. Jared and Jenny made love again.
It wasn’t as exciting as it had been in the
shower, but it was still very good.

In the morning they were both up early again.
There wasn’t much available on
the island but they were able to fill up their water reservoir and bring on some basic provisions. Jared topped off the gas tanks. There was no problem paying with American dollars.

It was going to be another fifteen hour day. Jared wanted to get to Isla de San
Andrés by late evening.
He had been there many years ago and although it was Colombian, he remembered it as a nice quiet place.
There was very little commercial development and no international hotel chains, Starbucks, or McDonalds.
He pulled up anchor
and headed south.
The engine oil pressure was high and the temperature was within
norms. He throttled up slightly, adding about 2 or 3 knots per hour. Jenny came up and
she took over the controls for a while.

“Stay on this course for a while.
We don’t have any submerged banks to worry
about for the next few hours.
It should be very easy to program an autopilot for a boat
using navigation charts and the GPS. I need to do that some time.”

Jared made coffee and brought it up to Jenny. He went down to the aft deck and
sat in the fighting chair. He could relax for a while. He thought about trying to fish but
sport fishing really didn’t interest him, especially if the only goal is a trophy fish. Hunting and fishing had to be strictly for subsistence, never for sport. He never understood
why it was called a sport. There was no sport in it. His mind wandered over dozens of
thoughts, mainly how he would handle their persuers when they returned.
It was all
worked out.
He cleared his head and tried to focus on other things.
He swiveled the
chair around so he could watch Jenny.

“Isn’t it too hot for that blouse? Look at me! I’m very comfortable,” he said.

She just smiled and gave him a very obvious insincere frown. Her eyes went back
to watching the horizon. He swiveled aft again. He thought of something. He turned his
chair back to Jenny.
“Do you have your driver’s license with you?”
“Yes, it’s in my purse,” she said.
“Good.
San Andres—that’s where we’re going—doesn’t require a visa from

Americans and Canadians, but they do ask for a passport.”
“I don’t have a passport. I had one when I went to Sweden once, but it expired
quite some time ago,” she said.
“I think your license will be enough, along with a twenty.”
“Bribes are your department.”
“I’ll take care of it.” He turned back to the sea.
He was fascinated by the flying
fish that popped out of their wake now and then.
Sometimes they glided thirty or forty
feet. They were amazing little fish.

San Andres

Jared and Jenny traded driving the boat the rest of the day. By early evening they
were entering the waters of San Andres. They cruised past Sprat Bright, the main beach.
He could see several luxury hotels in the distance. The small street off the beach was
sprawling with small shops and bars. San Andres had changed a lot. It wasn’t at all as he
remembered it.
At least these weren’t American or international chains.
Development
had arrived to San Andres, but maybe the saving grace was that it was regionally inspired.

Jared pulled into the receiving dock. No one was in a hurry. It took more than an
hour for someone who claimed to be with immigration or customs or both—it was never
clear—to board to inspect Jared’s papers. Jared was told that even though he was American, he didn’t have the proper papers.
They couldn’t leave the boat and it might take
several days for the proper papers to be prepared. Jared asked if this could be expedited
if he reimbursed the local government for the cost and time to do so. Of course that was
possible.
After he paid $50 in U.S. currency, the matter was cleared up promptly and a
blank sheet of paper was stamped with a rubber imprint of some kind that Jared was told
must be kept on the boat as long as he was in San Andres. His papers were now in order.

Inspector Ruis, the official claiming to be the proper official, was a local. He was
born on the island.
He said that this was all necessary because the islands were being
overrun by Colombians. The government in Bogotá was virtually shipping people to the
island to settle and things haven’t been the same since they began arriving about ten years
ago. Jared asked whether it wasn’t true that the islands were part of Colombia.

“Yes, of course it is true, but San Andres had always been self-governing.
The
people were hard working and honest. The homes were poor but clean and painted. Now
the garbage is in the streets. The homes aren’t painted.
There is too much drinking and
there is too much petty crime. Too many live without working. Things have to return to
order. Papers have to be in order,” said the inspector.

Jared thanked Inspector Ruis and bid him a good evening.
“Is he gone?” asked Jenny, calling up from their cabin.
“All clear.”
“It’s disgusting that everyone wants bribe money.”
“I don’t know if it’s disgusting. Keep in mind that the concept of bribery is strictly a social construct. There are very few governments on this planet that consider bribery
a corruption of governmental authority and of those that do see it that way, all of them are
hypocritical,” said Jared.

“It just not right,” replied Jenny.
“It is relative.”
“OK, it’s relative. But I don’t like it.”
“You have cabin fever. Would you like to get away from tiny cabins, small beds,

dinky showers and Spartan food?” he said.
“Would I? Of course I would.”
“San Andres has a Decameron hotel called Aquarium.
Do you see those round

structures at the end of the beach?”
“Let’s go.” She grabbed Jared by the arm and started to drag him off the boat.
“Wait. Wait. Let’s make sure the boat is here when we get back.”
Jared and Jenny locked up the boat and paid Inspector Ruis another expediting fee

to make sure that the boat wasn’t looted while they were gone.
They grabbed some basics and a change of clothes and walked down to Decameron Aquarium and checked in.
They got the last room. The hotel was almost booked full.

As with most of the languages that he spoke, Jared’s Spanish was at a native level.
It was so good that it became a liability.
Everyone assumed that he was a wealthy
Colombian. They were polite, but distant.
When they learned that he was American,
there was general disbelief. A few of the locals thought that he was lying.

They both took showers in the cavernous bathroom—cavernous compared to the
cramped stalls on the boat. Jenny had become so accustomed to the rocking of their boat
that it now felt that the room was slowly moving. It took her a while to lose that feeling.

They dressed and went to dinner. Everything in life is relative to some context. It
was a king’s dinner in the framework of the simple diet on the boat.
After dinner they
went out to the pool area for drinks.
They both had the local favorite, Aquardiente, but
then Jared had another idea when he learned that the hotel bar had Sebor Absinthe.