Accidental Encounter

Chapter 1

As the island disappeared astern Ian’s shoulders slumped and he sighed with relief. The strain and worry he’d been under the last few days had certainly taken a toll. The fact they had finally managed to escape had just sunk in. Not least was desperately trying to keep David unaware of what he’d had to do to keep their freedom. His son was barely nine and could hardly be expected to understand and appreciate some of the extreme lengths his father was forced to go to get them out of and keep them out of some of the unbelievable situations they’d been involved in for the last year. Obviously the God of Bad Luck that had been hounding him for the last two years still had his eye on him.

He had to get right out of the area. Sailing east was the only option before the inevitable air and sea search by the FBI and a US Navy vessel caught up with them.

Life for Ian Townsend and his son certainly hadn’t been boring the last two years. First there was the nervous episode in Vancouver when he abducted David from that horrible foster home minutes ahead of the authorities, dumped the rental car and then escaped on his yacht, Vixen.

David had looked so forlorn and miserable at his mother’s funeral, forced to sit with his new parents while his father sat across the room, forbidden by a court order to approach or speak to him. So far Ian had maintained the deception as well as a few others. David believed Ian had permission to take him away.

Thinking about taking him away; those gunrunners in San Francisco who kidnapped David and held Ian prisoner to force him to take them and their illegal weapons to Mexico got a nasty surprise in the end. A lovely smile broke out on his face as he remembered Mary and Ben after he’d immobilised them and hidden them on that vacant yacht.

Mary, hands and feet securely tied, attempted to speak as she rolled her eyes toward the unconscious Ben securely tied up lying on the deck of the enclosed cockpit of the empty yacht Ian had selected to dump him on. Ian, desperate to leave before the rest of the gang appeared peeled the duct tape partly off her mouth. ‘What do you want?’

‘Untie my feet. I want to kick the shit out of him for all the fear and misery he’s caused me. He’ll think it was you. It’ll give me a lot of pleasure to think about it while waiting to be released. This is the first time I’ve felt safe in his presence. I won’t ever get another chance. Please do this for me.’

Ian could understand that, having witnessed Ben’s atrocious behaviour while he was their prisoner. ‘Okay, but not his face. He’s ugly enough, but I don’t want him to have breathing problems. I don’t know how many sleeping pills I put in his coffee.’ He untied her feet and being the gentleman he was, steadied her as she took out her frustration and anger on the bully until Ian called a stop when it became evident she meant to permanently injure Ben, possibly even kill him. Not that Ian felt sorry for the sadistic mongrel. He just didn’t want any complications affecting his immediate departure.

*****

He smiled wryly as he remembered what a fool he’d been to feel sorry for her and succumb to her tearful pleadings to take her with him. That turned out to be one of his biggest mistakes. There had been quite a few over the years, but that had to be near the top. They say water can dissolve anything given enough time, but there’s nothing like a woman’s tears to melt even the hardest heart. He shouldn’t have been surprised when she deserted in San Diego and went back to the gang. He reckoned they’d sailed out of there only minutes ahead of the gang’s arrival. He’d certainly put a lot of watery miles between that lot, himself and David over the last couple of years.

Ian noticed the staysail wasn’t drawing properly, lashed the wheel then went for’d and adjusted it. Looking fondly at the still sleeping child down the for’d hatch he was thankful David had fallen asleep while the drama of two hours ago had taken place missing Ian’s confrontation with his boss, Vincent. Ex boss now. It wasn’t something he wanted David blabbing about to people later on. Ian thought he had been extremely clever, but had to admit he wasn’t very proud of himself. The man could have drowned. He’d had no idea whether or not he could swim.

*****

For several months Ian and David had been sole caretakers of the recently abandoned NASA missile tracking station on Canton Island (one of the largest atolls in the Phoenix Group) situated smack in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. One day the Public Works Department of American Samoa arrived with a gang of workers to dismantle the base and ship the bits and pieces to Samoa on a US Navy tug towing a barge. Ian had met Thomas, the head of the Public Works several months earlier when he’d flown in to see what they were getting for their money. He had offered Ian the job of assistant to the American supervisor who was coming with the Samoan gang on the US Navy tug towing a large barge to transport the dismantled base to Samoa four months after the base closed. He was very pleased that Ian had arrived at Canton from Hawaii several months earlier and was willing to take on the job. When the NASA crew left he was to be a presence on the island and run the generators to keep power on the huge walk-in freezers and refrigerators that were stocked with tons of food. It couldn’t have happened at a better time. It gave Ian a valid excuse to hang around and avoid the inconvenience of being questioned at the next port about how his fingerprints were all over a robbery scene back in Hawaii.

Sometimes it doesn’t pay to help people. Ian had been upstairs in the yacht club bar having a couple of drinks after work and saw three people he never wanted or expected to see again. It was Carl, Ben and Mary, the trio that had kidnapped David and held Ian prisoner at gunpoint about a year ago in San Francisco. To avoid being seen he slumped down in front of the man he was talking to and shifted so he could watch them then glanced around for another exit. They were between him and the door.

Behind was the balcony, a seven-metre drop to the parking lot. The toilets were beside him, but it would be a trap to hide in there. Ian was growing desperate then he heard a chair scrape on the floor in the office just as the guy he was talking to excused himself and went into the toilet. Ian turned his back to the room and in desperation opened the office door and quickly closed it behind him hoping for a back exit. It was a dead-end.

A very surprised woman faced him across a large wooden desk. She had been struggling to open a desk drawer. She said she didn’t have the right set of keys and asked if he could open it. The lock was a good one and he stalled as long as he could. Unfortunately she was in a hurry and ordered him to force the lock, which he eventually did, damaging the drawer front and breaking the lock. He jerked the drawer open and was stunned to see dozens of bundles of banknotes. As he was about to say something she slammed the drawer shut and told him to leave.

The three baddies were settled in for the evening so Ian nipped out onto the balcony and looked for a way down to the parking lot. The pipes running down the wall from the toilets were just within reach. He slid to the ground and hurried back to Vixen. Next morning on the way to the yacht club showers he stopped in amazement. The building was cordoned off with police tape. The club had been robbed the previous evening. Ian and David sailed next morning and ended up at Canton Island two weeks later.

Four months after NASA had left the crew from American Samoa arrived on the US Navy tug and barge. On board were the European supervisor Andrew, several Samoans and hundreds of dismantled wooden crates.

Ian got along well with the Samoans as foreman of the second gang and organised several loads that were successfully transported to Samoa. He had been putting aside all his earnings. Things hadn’t been so promising for a long time. One day the God of Bad Luck, bored and looking around to screw up somebody’s life noticed Ian’s good fortune.

The next trip up Vincent, Andrew’s unannounced replacement, arrived on the tug with orders for Andrew to return to Samoa to be questioned by the FBI. Andrew had arrived with a suitcase and a cardboard carton. He later shipped two large crates marked PERSONAL POSSESSIONS addressed to his home. The deckhand on the tug told Ian the FBI was coming on the next trip to interview him as a suspected accomplice with a yacht full of stolen goods. Ian was horrified. Vixen was trapped inside the lagoon with the engine seized up, impossible to sail through the long dangerous narrow channel in the short time of slack water.

Three days before the FBI was due, Ian conned Vincent into going for a day sail around the island. The launch towed them safely out of the lagoon then cast off half a mile from the island. Vincent was on board Vixen. While David was out of sight below and the launch was still nearby Ian purposely tripped and fell against Vincent knocking him into the sea. By the time the launch rescued him Vixen was a mile away.

Vincent, thinking it was an accident, was standing in the bow of the launch overtaking Vixen. The launch caught up and Vincent attempted to board. Ian waved him off with the rifle. Vincent threatened to arrest him and take Vixen under tow. The Samoan helmsman wisely turned the launch around and headed back to the island.

*****

When David awoke from his nap and appeared on deck he looked around, then peered into the aft cabin. ‘Where’s Vincent?’

‘He went back on the launch because he was feeling seasick.’

‘Huh. Not much of a sailor.’ He stood frowning at the horizon for a moment then climbed onto the roof of the aft cabin. He looked in all directions. ‘How come I can’t see the island?’

It wasn’t often Ian lied to him, but this was definitely one of those times. ‘Well, you see, it’s like this…’

David interrupted. ‘You know Dad, when you say that, I know you’re going to make up a story or tell me a fib.’

The kid is getting too smart for my own good, he thought.

‘I’m afraid I had an argument with him, and called him a sissy for getting seasick when he’d only been on board for half an hour so he fired me and now there’s no reason for us to go back.’

‘He fired you! After all you did for them on the island?’

‘I’m not worried son. I didn’t like him. So, seeing as how we’re already at sea we might as well go somewhere else,’ he said, tongue in cheek. Hopefully he wouldn’t soon have his foot in there as well.

‘What about all our stuff at the house?’

‘It’s all on board. If you look in your drawer and under your bunk you’ll find everything stowed away.’

David didn’t say anything at first, but gave his father the strangest look, staring into his eyes. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me because you think I’m just a little kid and don’t notice things. You must have known we weren’t going back before we left this morning. You would have had to bring all this stuff on board, except what we were using this morning at the house.’

‘When you grow up maybe you should be a lawyer or a policeman, because you’re getting some good practice in right now. You know, there are times I have to make decisions for both of us that really don’t require the permission of an eight year …’

‘Nine’

‘Nine year old boy and sometimes it may seem unnecessary or high-handed to you, but it’s for our own good in the end.’ Most of the time anyway.

‘If you say so, but what are we doing out here and where are we going?’

‘I thought as long as we’re in this area we might as well explore the other uninhabited islands in the group.’

‘You promised we would go to New Zealand and find a mother and a little brother for me to play with. You promised!’

‘Yes, well, we’ll do that, but it’ll take a while to get there.’

David didn’t say anything, but stomped down the steps to the main cabin and went for’d to his bunk.

Ian glanced at the compass and turned the wheel a couple of spokes to correct the course. David doesn’t seem to realise at an average of seventy five nautical miles a day it takes a while to get around. It is a rather large ocean. Anyway, he’ll be over it by tomorrow morning. I can’t really blame him because he’s had no other children to play with these last few months. Hardly surprising he gets lonely. And it’s a good job he doesn’t know it’s going to be quite a few more months before he has somebody his own age to play with. I wouldn’t mind somebody to play with either.

Now that they were out of sight of the island and on a new course to the east he edged the yacht closer to the wind and trimmed sail so Vixen would sail herself and leave him to get on with some chores. He went below to plot a course to the next island where he hoped to find a hiding place until the search was called off then safely sail south. He needed money so he’d have to get work somewhere to make up for the wages he had just lost.

To add to his other problems he was now wanted by the FBI as well as the Government of American Samoa. He probably could have been cleared of the charges of stealing American Government property because there was no tangible proof, but he still would have been arrested and taken down to Pago Pago, David put into care and the yacht left at Canton at an insecure anchorage.

As for assaulting Vincent by pushing him over the side and then driving off the overtaking rescue boat at gunpoint, that would definitely be another matter. Ian could see a long, unpleasant jail sentence over that episode, not to mention losing David and Vixen. Nothing for it but to get as far away as possible. He needed to find some place to hide the yacht until the search moved into another area.

The nearest island was Enderbury, forty miles away. At the present speed they would arrive there late in the afternoon. The only information available was in the Pacific Islands Pilot Book. Unfortunately he didn’t have a chart so had to rely on the information in the Pilot. The island was reported to be five kilometres long and one and a half wide with a lagoon. He’d have to check it out. If the lagoon is connected to the sea they may be able to get Vixen inside and hidden close inshore. He’d need a screen of coconut trees and jungle to hide the masts. If not, they could be lowered, but it would be a hell of a job raising them again.

An hour after sighting the island they anchored on the western side in nine fathoms with a sandy bottom. Ian climbed the mast to the spreaders and looked over the island. It was a most unpleasant sight. There was no channel across the reef. There were few trees and the lagoon had dried up.

‘This is not a very nice place, is it Dad?’ David stood on the main cabin roof and looked shoreward. There were millions of seabirds nesting and flying around and the noise was deafening. Ian checked that the anchor was holding and the offshore wind kept Vixen off the reef, then went below and read the information on the other islands in the group. Surely one of them would provide a hidey-hole. He’d only now come to realise the serious trouble he’d placed them both in. Obviously the FBI would check his movements all the way back to Vancouver. No, don’t even think of going back to Canton to explain.

He shuddered when he thought of the hassle he’d received from the immigration people back in Los Angeles. And that ignorant bastard, Captain Dickhead in Hilo when they sailed in with one crewmember missing. Even when it was eventually cleared up he still gave them a hard time and ordered them out of the harbour. What is it with me and people in authority? I always seem to bring out the worst in them and get myself in some incredible situations. Maybe I should return and face up to the FBI because I haven’t done anything wrong. Well, not if you don’t count moving some stuff around and hiding it in an empty World War Two bunker then burying it. We could be back there before the Navy tug arrives. Hang on, what if they question David and he blabs about the fuel and things that I was forced to give to the North Korean longliner fishing boat that arrived while we were alone on the island? No, forget it; we’ll have to go on.

He checked out the next island to the south while waiting for the kettle to boil. It was about forty-five miles away, and was similar to Enderbury, but smaller. The Pilot Book failed to get enthusiastic about it and gave it a third of a page. He had the impression the writer couldn’t find any redeeming features, but was reluctant to say anything bad about it. The next island after that was Sydney and was south-south-west of their present position. That sounded more inviting, farther away from the group and with a large lagoon.

He went on deck with his coffee, looked aft at his son fishing over the stern and briefly thought about going back. No, bugger that, there’s too much at stake. I could lose David and the yacht as well as my freedom. It’s not worth taking the chance. Besides, I’m bloody sure Vincent would be vindictive. It’s not every day he is thrown into the ocean then has a gun pointed at him by a pirate. Ian smiled. He had certainly lost face in front of his crew.

Shortly before noon the next day he sighted Sydney dead ahead. It looked very attractive and was a far cry from the last two. This one looked a veritable South Pacific paradise. Until a few years ago it had a large population of Gilbert and Ellice Islanders. Now it was uninhabited. There was abundant vegetation and hundreds of coconut trees.

He sailed to the western end then turned south along the coast. Reducing sail to just the jib and with the wind on the starboard quarter they crept along the shore looking for the stone cairn that marked the landing spot. The Pilot Book briefly mentioned the landing was dangerous, but didn’t explain why.

When Vixen came abreast of the cairn the danger became apparent. There was no channel or break in the reef. The surf was high and appeared as an unbroken line all along this part of the coast. There was also a heavy swell coming around the island from the south. It made an uncomfortable anchorage. The breeze off the island would keep Vixen bow on to the shore, but broadside to the swell and cause the yacht to roll uncomfortably .

He dropped the anchor in a sandy patch and made a cup of coffee, waiting to see if the anchor would hold. It was now noon. If they were to get ashore and explore the island before sunset, he needed to make a move very soon.

It only took a few minutes to launch the dinghy, drop David into it and pass in some water and the oars. David stood on the aft seat and searched for a break in the surf as his father slowly rowed along the coast just clear of the surf crashing onto the dangerous reef. They went past the cairn near the alleged landing place without seeing any break. ‘David, sit down while I have a look.’ As they rose to the top of a swell Ian pointed. ‘There! That spot has less surf breaking on it. It’s a narrow channel and runs straight into the beach.

Moments later they sat just outside the breaking surf with the bow pointed toward the shore as Ian timed the waves until he saw the seventh and largest wave forming astern. ‘Sit on the bottom of the boat and hang on. If we get swamped, stay in the boat. Here we go!’

The huge wave, foaming and roaring like a mad thing, towered over the stern then lifted the small dinghy high onto its crest and raced for the beach. Frantically steering by dragging one oar then the other, he kept the dinghy from broaching till the wave broke onto the sand. As the wave receded it deposited the dinghy with a thump onto the white sandy beach. Ian leapt out and quickly dragged it to the tree line while David, seated in the stern, hung onto the gunnels and shouted encouragement. The landing was too easy. It would be a different situation going back out when they finished exploring.

The beach was fairly steep and above the high tide mark it was made up of sandy patches, irregular slabs of sandstone and broken coral. Further inland the ground flattened out and was host to twenty metre coconut trees planted in the 1800’s. There had also been extensive guano digging about that time. The gaping holes left behind had been partially filled with sand and fallen fronds making walking hazardous. It would have been too easy to fall through and break an ankle.

They walked over to the lagoon, or what was left of it. There was no longer access to the ocean. It was shallow and where it had dried a wide rim of salt glistened like ice particles. It couldn’t contain any sea life. The wind, heavily laden with salt and the glare off the surface made it a most unpleasant scene.

After the baking heat on the beach it was relatively cool under the trees. They walked among the ruins of the old abandoned village with its rotting and collapsing huts and headed to the bottom of the island where the coconut plantation ended. Thick scrub took over and there was nothing of interest there so they made their way to the other end of the island.

On the way back they detoured down to the beach to check on the yacht. Vixen was in the same position and rolling a bit, but otherwise looked secure.

Walking just inland from the shoreline was easier than walking on the beach because of the sharp broken coral chunks that littered it. The coral had been exposed to the sun for so long it was an unattractive grey colour and was so dried out it made a loud clinking sound as they walked on it.

Dozens of birds followed them. Some hopped close behind while others flitted overhead from branch to branch, often within arms reach. They were so unafraid that David hopefully held out his arms to encourage them to alight, but they declined and just tilted their heads and looked at him as if to say, ‘You must think we’re stupid’.

There was abundant insect life, beautiful blue and white butterflies, moths and dragonflies, all had no hesitation landing on their heads and shoulders. Flies persisted in seeking moisture from their eyes and nostrils, but weren’t numerous.

They entered a thick scrub forest at the end of the coconut plantation. A hundred metres in they discovered a large stone platform. It was made of thousands of coral and sandstone slabs cleverly locked together to form a long, wide, flat topped platform about two metres high, eight long and four wide. Some small bushes had taken root and displaced some of the slabs, but it was mostly intact. They examined it from all sides. It looked ancient, probably built long before the white man came into the Pacific. Ian wondered if there were bodies or artefacts buried inside it. They walked further into the bush towards the north end of the island.

They hadn’t gone far before they came across another one, and through a break in the trees Ian could see an even larger one. They shortly discovered two more.

For the third time, David asked, ‘What did they build them for?’

‘I told you, I don’t know.’

‘Well, they sure went to a lot of work to make them. It must have been important.’

‘Maybe they didn’t have anything else to do.’

‘Other than fishing and eating coconuts, you mean? Hey! Maybe there was something on the island they were afraid of and they climbed up there to get away from it!’ He looked fearfully around and stood closer to his father.

‘I don’t think so. There are no animals or snakes on these islands so what could frighten them?’ At least I don’t think so.

Near the tree line on the northern beach were several stone enclosures that had collapsed over the centuries. If they were the remains of houses they would have housed only one individual at a time, being not much larger than a lavatory. People had been very busy here in the far distant past. From the top of the beach where they were standing Ian spied an opening in the reef that may lead to the open sea. He climbed a leaning coconut tree for a better look.

It was definitely a channel, narrow but fairly deep. It joined up with the deeper water that ran between the beach and the encircling reef. He quickly climbed down to David and said, ‘Let’s walk back to the yacht along the beach.’

‘Maybe we’ll find some nice shells.’

‘I was thinking of something better.’

‘What?’

Ian smiled. ‘Wait and see. Walk here on the sand it’s easier than that sharp coral by the tree line. Besides, you won’t find any good shells along there because they’ll be bleached by the sun.’

They’d walked half a kilometre when they came across a narrow channel running into the island. David tugged his father’s hand, ‘I’m not walking through that. It’s too deep.’

Ian studied it with a huge grin, ‘Yes it is.’ and stepped into it until the deepest part was up to his chin then walked along the bottom towards the interior of the island while David walked alongside on the dry sand.

‘What are you smiling at, Dad?’

‘You’ll see.’ He moved closer to the other bank as the water in the middle deepened.

David said, ‘Are you going to come out now? I’ve got to climb onto this bank because there’s no more beach left.’

‘Just keep going, it looks as though it ends up ahead.’ Ian was now on the other side of the narrow channel and had to climb out because it was enclosed by three metre high coral banks like the one David was standing on. They met at the end where it opened out into a circular pool about twenty metres across. Ian said, ‘It’s deep here. There’s enough room to turn the yacht around. I wonder what caused this to be blocked off from