Halfway to a Vineyard

Dedication

This work is dedicated to the men and women of the Armed Forces of the United States for their grateful sacrifices in the cause of freedom. A special tribute to the United States Coast Guard who keep watch over our shores.

Acknowledgment

I’d like to thank my beta readers, Beverly, Debra, Tiffany, and Nancy for taking the time to read my book. Their constructive criticism and suggestions greatly enriched the storyline and their eyes caught the simple mistakes that my mind would not accept. I especially want to thank my wife, Sherry, for her tolerance and support of the time I spent writing and putting up with my many frustrations along the way.

Table of Content

Copyright

Dedication

Acknowledgement

Table of Content

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Author’s Note

About the Author

Other Novels by Anthony

CHAPTER 1

Forty miles off the coast of Florida

Eyelids struggled to open. The feeling of wetness against a cheek. Blurred vision labored to see into the half-light, while a gentle rocking offered little comfort to a body that could not move yet conveyed a growing sense of pain. Intermittent consciousness struggled against reality as a set of stairs disappeared through an opening and into blue sky. Then there was darkness.

# # #

Coast Guard Air Station Miami, Florida

You got her all checked out, Lieutenant? the approaching figure called out to a man performing a familiar scene on the tarmac.

Hearing the voice, a lean figure crawled out from beneath the helicopter. He stood, dusting the dirt off the uniform that covered his almost six-foot frame. Pulling a cap from the pocket of his flight suit, he covered most of his short, black hair with it. The gleaming railroad track insignia on the front of his cap signaling his rank as he properly positioned it.

While continuing their conversation over his shoulder, he resumed surveying the aircraft. Better check the bolts on that right landing skid, Chief. I noticed a little movement on them.

You certainly spend a lot of time going over your aircraft, Lieutenant Champion. More so than any other pilot in this squadron.

The officer turned his head showing a half-smile. I like to keep you busy, Chief Petty Officer Johnson. Otherwise, you’d be sitting in a corner reading one of those superhero comic books you’re so fond of, he teased.

Sam gently patted the skin of the helo. This Pelican, he summarized, is beginning to show her age. The Guard started to replace these aircraft with the Jayhawk model late 1990s. It amazes me they allow this one to still be flown. But until the decision to retire her, we need to make sure this special lady stays in tip-top shape.

Yes, sir, he agreed, squatting for a look at the skid bolts. This particular aircraft has been a real work-horse for the Coast Guard since the late 1960s. Records show she was one of the first off the assembly line. Considering her maturity, she’s in remarkably good condition.

Shaking the skid support bar, he continued, I’ve been meaning to ask you, Lieutenant. You’re the only pilot here that is qualified to fly both fixed-wing aircraft and helos. I’ve always been curious as to why you never take out the C-130 Hercules.

The officer looked up into the cockpit. I like the helos best. They get you right to where the action is. And, there is no greater feeling than belly flopping this rig into the water, he said tongue-in-cheek.

I hear you’re getting out of the Coast Guard soon, Lieutenant. What are your plans?

My six years in the Coast Guard is up next month, and we’re moving to northern California. My wife wants me to go into the wine making business. Her father owns a vineyard there.

How’s your wife feel about your decision to leave the military?

I told her when I entered service that I wasn’t planning on making a career of it, but … His words trailed off as his thoughts went somewhere else.

Anyway, he resumed, she hasn’t said much about it. I sense she’s relieved that I won’t be taking risks every day. Besides, Chief, with Sherry pregnant with our second child, I’m sure she’s comforted knowing we will be moving in a new direction.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded followed by a controlled voice over a loudspeaker. Lieutenant Champion, report to Ops!

Guess that skid is going to have to wait, Chief, but make a note of it.

Aye, sir.

# # #

Commander wants to see you, Lieutenant, said the clerk, pointing to his right.

Is the old man in good spirits?

Is it Friday? came the reply.

Sam knocked on the door and immediately heard a terse, Come in!

Upon entering, he removed his cap, proceeded to a desk, and saluted. Reporting as ordered, sir.

His superior nonchalantly returned his salute.

Have a seat, Sam, invited the man behind the desk as he slid a folder across the desktop. That’s your dossier.

Sam’s eyes caught his last name marked on the tab.

Impressive file, Lieutenant, but there’s only one thing missing.

What’s that, sir?

The commander leaned forward and opened the folder. Your signature on the re-enlistment contract, son. You’re Coast Guard through and through, so why haven’t you signed it?

I never planned to make the Guard a career, sir. I only wanted to fly, and the Guard gave me that opportunity. I also have a wife, son, and soon-to-be child that I need to think about. Let’s face it, sir, this isn’t a safe job.

The commander came from behind his desk and sat on a corner, saying, There are plenty of families in the Coast Guard, Sam. They all understand the risks the men and women who wear the uniforms take every day … have you talked it over with your wife?

Yes, sir. We’re both ready to try something new. Her parents started a vineyard in northern California when Sherry was born and named it after her. Her mother has been deceased a few years, and she feels her father still struggles with her loss. She wants to move there and help him run the place. And, it will be a great place to raise our children.

Sounds pretty boring to me, son. But you have to make your own decision.

The commander returned to his chair. I’m not signing your discharge papers until your last day just in case you change your mind, Lieutenant. I know a good military man when I see one, and you’re it. But your ass is mine until you discharge, so I plan to keep you plenty busy.

Fine with me, sir, Sam agreed. Anything to help keep my mind off things for the next month.

Another uniformed person entered and mimicked Sam’s introduction. Ensign Thomas reporting for duty, sir.

At ease, Ensign. Then, pointing to Sam, he introduced him. This is Lieutenant Champion, he’ll be showing you the ropes.

The two men shook hands.

The commander turned his attention to Sam. This afternoon, I’m sending you boys out to meet the cutter Ticonderoga. You need to quickly get Ensign Thomas up to speed on deck-landing a helo on a moving vessel. Briefing is in an hour. Show him around and introduce him to your crew. That will be all gentlemen; you’re dismissed.

Aye, sir, they said in unison, saluting as they departed.

# # #

Forty-three miles off the coast of Florida

Consciousness returned. Pain in the back of the head pounding with each attempt to move. At first, fingers flexed, then a push with the hands against a hard, watery surface ensued to reposition the body. Recognition slowly returned to surroundings and awareness of the situation.

The sound of an airplane engine overhead competed for attention over the throbbing headache.

Slowly, the body crawled over a pool of water toward a singular object. A hand finally managing to grip the handle of a flare gun.

Taking unsteady aim toward the blue sky above the stairs, the shooter expended their last bit of strength to pull the trigger. Darkness closed again.

# # #

There’s the Ticonderoga, sir.

Sam confirmed the Ensign’s sighting of the ship.

All right, Ensign, take the controls and let’s see how well you approach the ship. But don’t try to land on the first go around. It’s always best to first hover over your target and get a feel for the motion of the vessel rocking in the waves.

Roger, sir. Taking control.

However, before Ensign Thomas could begin his maneuver, a call came over their earphones.

Pelican One, this is base, over!

Base, this is Pelican One. We copy, acknowledged Sam.

Pelican One, abort your training mission. You’re needed for a live SAR mission about forty miles off the coast. Do you copy?

Roger, base. Send the coordinates. Is the Ticonderoga going to accompany us?

Negative, Pelican One. A civilian aircraft reported spotting a flare fired from a listing ship. There’s a storm getting ready to pass over that area in about twenty minutes, so speed is essential.

Good copy, base. Receiving coordinates now, Sam said, reading his control panel.

We’re not sure what you’re going to find but be prepared for anything. Good luck, Pelican One.

Roger, base. Out!

Sam twisted a dial on his console and spoke again into his mouthpiece. All right, crew, you heard that. Let’s get a swimmer ready.

Turning his head toward his copilot, he asked, Have you ever done a search and rescue before, Ensign?

Only training missions, sir. Do you want the controls back?

Nope, you’ll be doing this long after I leave military service. There has to be a first time at some point … may as well be today.

Aye, sir.

The Ensign aimed the helo on an azimuth northwest as indicated by the coordinates they received. A huge bank of storm clouds gathered in the distance ahead of them.

CHAPTER 2

Forty-three miles off the coast of Florida

By the time they reached the initial coordinates, rain pelted Pelican One forcing the aircraft to descend to one hundred and fifty feet due to low visibility conditions. The crew could see that the waves had swelled to over six feet, but no vessel bobbed anywhere within their view.

Okay, Ensign, this is where the search begins. What is your assessment of the situation?

From the action of the waves, sir, I’d say the current is moving due east. Any disabled vessel in this location two hours ago, likely drifted several nautical miles from here going in that direction.

So, what type of pattern are you going to fly?

Zigzag, sir. I estimate at this height off the water, our field of vision extends to about a third of a nautical mile. Coupled with the search radar, we should be able to spot any floating material over six feet long.

Very good, Ensign. That’s exactly what I would do. Go for it.

Ensign Thomas rechecked his instrument panel and initiated a search pattern.

After fifteen minutes, the crew chief spotted something out a side portal window and notified the cockpit. Sir, we have floating debris portside.

Circle around, Ensign, said Sam, peering down to the ocean top on his side of the aircraft.

He studied the waves for a moment and then said, Drop to fifty feet.

Within a few minutes, the helo hovered over half-submerged fragments consisting of a cooler and several boat deck items.

Then, farther out, Sam spotted a man positioned face-up who appeared to be unconscious. He was wearing an unsecured life vest, as if putting it on was a last-minute decision.

Sam gave the order for the swimmer to prepare to jump while directing Ensign Thomas to go lower.

At the proper altitude, the side door of the helo opened and a man wearing scuba gear jumped to the water below.

Another crew member swung out a large basket attached to a hoist and waited for the swimmer’s signal.

Wave swells made it difficult for the diver to reach the injured person. But with a few powerful kicks of his fins, the frogman managed to get close enough to the casualty to grab a loose strap and pulled the man to him. Then he signaled for the basket.

With the man safely strapped inside, he gave thumbs-up, and the hoist ascended.

Onboard the helo, the injured person was carefully removed from the carrier and attended to by a third crew member.

Sir, he’s dead, came a report over Sam’s earphones. Appears to be a couple of bullet wounds in his torso.

Cover him up, the commander instructed, and let me know when the swimmer gets aboard. We’ve got to find that boat.

The basket rigging was quickly re-lowered to pick up the diver and soon he was brought back to the aircraft.

Minutes later, they resumed their search pattern.

After traveling eight nautical miles from their starting point, one of the crew caught sight of a sinking cabin cruiser and directed their efforts in that direction.

As they drew nearer to the craft, they noticed a woman lying on the pitching deck, barely hanging on to a life rope.

Lieutenant, spoke the hoist operator into his microphone, I don’t think we can land the swimmer onto the cruiser. The swells are too large and increase the chance for injury. If you can get closer to the survival craft, he believes he can jump nearby and swim to the ladder toward the back end of the boat.

Ensign, take it down to ten feet and hold her steady.

But, sir, that exceeds safety levels under these conditions.

Do it! he commanded. She’s still alive, and we don’t know if anyone else is aboard. We don’t have the luxury of following the book on this one, Ensign and, as commander, I take full responsibility.

Aye, sir. He moved closer to the sinking ship.

The swimmer launched himself into the water, this time only wearing snorkel gear and a safety vest.

Almost immediately, he grabbed a rung on the boat’s ladder and precariously climbed his way into the boat.

He reached the woman and secured her to a side rail using the rope from a lifebuoy.

Then, he rechecked his face mask and dove into the submerged interior of the cabin. After what seemed like minutes, he emerged and gave the signal to the craft overhead only one survivor on board.

Sam quickly assessed the best way to safely remove the woman and his crew member from the craft. He surmised it likely was only minutes from completely sinking under water.

Chief, do you think we can time lowering the basket into a swell so the swimmer can jump near it with the survivor. He can put her into the basket and connect himself to the rig, then we can pull them up together.

I think it will work, Lieutenant. If you can stay within twenty feet of the survival craft, I think we have a chance.

Ensign, move us slow, said Sam. I’ll tell you when to stop.

The pilot followed Sam’s verbal and hand signals to the optimal point of the drop.

Upon receiving an A-OK hand signal from