The Search for the "Molly Brown": Sequel to Cruising with Fred and His Unsinkable “Molly Brown”
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With his old skiff he uses the current to drift south to a town. He rides a bus to Charleston, has a shootout with a black dope peddler that leaves him with drugs and a lot of cash.
He buys a boat that he can maneuver by himself, yet big enough to live comfortable aboard. With a new young boat bum and her little boy, he is again having boating enjoyment. Terry tells him of a catamaran sail boat that is peddling drugs, and is about to come into port to unload.
Fred boards the drug boat, to get rid of the drugs he had on his boat. The deal misfires and Fred ends up with more drugs and cash aboard his boat.
He finds that he has incurred the wrath of a crooked Custom Officer and his partner. They had planned a drug bust of their own. Fred and his new boat the MOLLY TWO escapes to go north to find his old hidden dope burial ground, to hide this dope. He had plans to clear his boat of any incriminating evidence.
Fred is almost buried alive in the new sand silt that has been pumped to over fill his islands hiding place. His stubborn insistence not to quit, sustained him. He lived to find his stash and offloads the dope. With only the money aboard, he resumes his searching for the MOLLY BROWN.
Stopped by the crooked Custom Officers he is physically abused in their anger. To save his own life he has another shoot out, and is victorious.
This is the story of Freds new adventures.
Capt. Gardner Martin Kelley
I was born near a lighthouse far out at sea on January 20, 1913. I must have heard the ocean roar and heard it pounding on the shore. Eight summer’s came and with it a big three-mast schooner. Prohibition was the name of the game. I was at the tiller, far at sea and my father was out from sampling the tea; I was the youngest rum runner of them all. I needed all that I could earn to support a pretty nineteen year old wife and home; 10-27-1931 we married and bought property in Milbridge, Maine. Vera Alley Kelley and I were married for 65 memorable years. I was a rigger at the Boston Navy Yard during the attack on Pearl Harbor, 12-7-1941; I also worked on “OLD IRONSIDES”. South Portland’s West yard in Maine, where I worked as a “pusher rigger”, I helped build and steered Liberty Ships for Captain Litchfield at all of the harbor trial test runs. I moved to North Carolina to enjoy my boat and the weather, I developed a small marine railway yard in Harkers Island near the Outer Banks. There in 1969 I got a call; The “BIG BAD JOHN” had run aground. I was recommended to Jimmy Dean as the right licensed captain to pilot her to Florida. Later I was hired to Captain the “M.V. MOUNT HOPE” for cruises from Rhode Island to Canada. The forty five foot ketch the “FROLIC”, I bought for my own. The “FROLIC” was berthed at Morehead City close to my home. The last 25 years I have written of experiences of my wonderful lifetime. I am now 98 years old and still going strong; I now reside on the Crystal Coast of North Carolina with my family. Capt. Gardner Martin Kelley
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The Search for the "Molly Brown" - Capt. Gardner Martin Kelley
The Search for the
MOLLY BROWN
Sequel to
Cruising with Fred and his unsinkable MOLLY BROWN
CAPT. GARDNER MARTIN KELLEY
US%26UKLogoB%26Wnew.aiAuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: 1-800-839-8640
© 2011 Capt. Gardner Martin Kelley. 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.
First published by AuthorHouse 9/20/2011
ISBN: 978-1-4634-3683-4 (e)
ISBN: 978-1-4634-3684-1 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4634-3685-8 (sc)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2011911792
Printed in the United States of America
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,
and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
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
Synopsis
Chapter 1
The Search for the MOLLY BROWN
Chapter 2
A New Man
Chapter 3
A New Ship Mate
Chapter 4
An Adventure in the Making
Chapter 5
The Interloper
Chapter 6
A Vacation While on Vacation
Chapter 7
Yo! Ho! Ho! And a Bottle of Rum
Chapter 8
Bottle Up and A Ground
Chapter 9
Winter
Chapter 10
A Christmas Party
Chapter 11
Two women for Fred
Chapter 12
An Island and the Money Disappears
Chapter 13
Money in the Bank
Chapter 14
Not in Texas
Chapter 15
A Long Time Search Ends
Chapter 16
Florida Here I Come
Synopsis
Fred did not die on his island, another heart attack did not happen. He had plenty of money and maybe, even some life time left. Fred made up his mind; he would go up and down the waterway searching for his lost boat, the MOLLY BROWN
. She had to be hidden very well, no one has seen her.
With his old skiff he uses the current to drift south to a town. He rides a bus to Charleston, has a shootout with a black dope peddler that leaves him with drugs and a lot of cash.
He buys a boat that he can maneuver by himself, yet big enough to live comfortable aboard. With a new young boat bum
and her little boy, he is again having boating enjoyment. Terry tells him of a catamaran sail boat that is peddling drugs, and is about to come into port to unload.
Fred boards the drug boat, to get rid of the drugs he had from before. The deal misfires and Fred ends up with more drugs and cash aboard his boat.
He finds that he has incurred the wrath of a crooked Custom Officer and his partner. They had planned a drug bust of their own. Fred and his new boat the "MOLLY TWO" escapes to go north to find his old hidden dope burial ground, to hide this dope. He had plans to clear his boat of any incriminating evidence.
Fred is almost buried alive in the new sand silt that has been pumped to over fill his islands hiding place. His stubborn insistence not to quit, sustained him. He lived to find his stash and offloads the dope. With only the money aboard, he resumes his searching for the MOLLY BROWN
.
Stopped by the crooked Custom Officers he is physically abused in their anger. To save his own life he has another shoot out, and is victorious.
This is the story of Fred’s new adventures.
The Author
Chapter 1
The Search for the MOLLY BROWN
Fred did not die as he expected. His return to where he had become a man (in his opinion) and where his best adventures happened was too peaceful.
Two months of waiting for another heart attack to happen showed him that it was not necessarily so. He never felt better, he was careful not to lift anything heavy. There had been no need to use even one of the nitro capsules. He walked out a few clams for chowder or for bait on his fishing line. The short walk to where he caught the rabbits, sometimes with a short stop at his little garden plot, was evidently just the exercise he needed.
He was not as contented as he thought he would be, once back at Ship Island. He had to admit to himself that he missed having company. Bess had spoiled him for living alone. Fred had dieted for some time now, with all the packages of dry soups and chowders, not the coarser food. It seemed to have helped his health.
This evening as he watched the sunset from his and Bess’s favorite spot he thought of his lost boat. The (unsinkable) MOLLY BROWN
had been lost to him when he was shot and thrown off a bridge to be drowned. How well he remembered, now that his amnesia had worn off. Where was she at? He decided to find out if possible. He thought, Hell I’ve got plenty of money, it’s not like the old days when I had to scrounge and save to get by. The deal with the drug smugglers left me well fixed.
Two days later with the island camp closed Fred sat in the skiff as she drifted with the tide south. The small settlements drifted astern. Fred waited for a city where he could buy a small cruiser that he could handle easily by himself.
A few teenage boys were fishing from a pile of rocks just up river of the town landing.
Pic%20%23%201%20pg%20%23%205%20%20Fishing%20off%20rocks%20Jeremy%20100_2896adj.jpgTeenagers fishing off the rock jetty. Photo by Jeremy D’Entremont
Fred called to them to come to him. He showed a picture he had drawn of the MOLLY BROWN
and asked if the boys had seen such a boat going past? This was his first attempt at questioning. How would you two like to have my skiff?
He asked. The answer was quick to come and it was, we sure would, beats heck out of fishing day after day from that old rock.
All I want from you is that you keep your eyes opened for a boat like this sketch. I may be going by from time to time and will probably see you fishing. I will stop to ask.
He started off, enjoy the skiff boys
, he said. They were in the boat arguing as to who was going to row, Fred doubted if they heard, but at least he thought they would remember if they saw a boat like the MOLLY BROWN
pass by.
He sat on the ramp to replace his socks and shoes. He would first get a haircut then see about other things. He needed a lunch and then he would look for a nice boat. Just as Fred got to the highway a bus stopped. A passenger with his suitcase emerged. The Charleston
sign was prominent across the front of it. On the spur of the moment Fred decided that his haircut and a meal could wait. He stepped into the bus, the driver seemed a little perturbed that he had no ticket. However no comment was made as Fred received his change and ticket from the driver. Fred sat just behind the driver and watched the scenery roll past, he fell asleep.
The noise of passengers getting ready to alight awoke him. He stepped out of the bus into the bright lights of the city. It was too late for a haircut and shave, but not too late to eat. He chose the first eating place that he saw; the McDonald’s place was quite crowded. An old Jew man was waiting for his turn at the counter. His feet were swelled; the ancient shoes were split for room for the swelling. A big black man entered, about thirty five and built like a football player. He glanced at the three lines and then passed Fred to step on the old Jew’s foot as he jostled him out of his spot at the counter. The black boy at the counter grinned as he placed his order. The pathetic old man held on to the counter for support. His complaint to the counter man was ignored as he hobbled to a chair to rest.
As a Don Quixote, Fred was glad that he had not received his haircut and shave. He followed the abuser of the elderly man outside. He slipped inside the car beside him. Fred said, Let’s get out of here
. The big black backed up the car and drove out of the driveway and onto the main street. He said, Hey man what’s this all about?
Fred answered by motioning him to pull into a lighted shopping mall, Over there in that darkened section we can do our business there.
When the car was stopped the man reached in the bag on the seat between them and lifted out the thick shake, Fred used his left hand to get it and drop it back in the bag. Hey! Man, what the hell do you think you are doing? For the first time he had seen the gun in Fred’s right hand.
Whatcha want man? Pot, crack I got plenty of both." He moved fast with his right hand, he almost got shot as he pulled a handful of crack from the right jacket pocket. Fred was just able to stop his squeeze on the trigger.