Fathom

By Dave Moruzzi

Fathom is a slight departure from the first five Ben Bass Mysteries. This tale finds Captain Bass sailing in Western Caribbean waters in one of Windward Islands Bare Boats' thirty-seven foot sloops. It is also a factual look at the failed Bay of Pigs invasion and a review of the resulting, disastrous air battle. The real aerial combat that pitted modified WWII B-26 Marauders against Castro’s high-speed, piston- and jet-engine fighters is covered, the losses are memorialized and a possible unintended outcome is added. The reader is taken back to those fateful days in 1961 when the world watched as a few thousand counterrevolutionaries struggled unsuccessfully to thwart the Fidel Castro’s communist takeover of Cuba. These events are reviewed while an imagined outcome provides modern-day events in the Caribbean Sea. A leased sailboat is rammed and sunk, the ultimate fate of the crew is investigated, and Captain Ben Bass finds himself in the middle of another adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781329727311

Book preview

Fathom

FATHOM

Copyright © 2015 by Dave Moruzzi

All rights reserved

ISBN 978-1-329-72731-1

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Electronic Books by Dave Moruzzi

Abbondanza

Lulu Press - 2011

Bight

Lulu Press - 2012

Caicos

Lulu Press - 2013

Debonaire

Lulu Press - 2014

Equinox

Lulu Press - 2014

All Ben Bass Mysteries are available at

Lulu, Apple, Barnes & Noble, Amazon and Kobo.

Go to: www.benbassmysteries.com

Frontispiece

Prologue

Let us think of them that sleep,

Full many a fathom deep,

By thy wild and stormy sleep,

Elsinore!

The Beech-Tree’s Petition by

Thomas Campion, 1777-1844

The nude man stood in the cockpit of the anchored sailboat, enjoying the post coital sensations that pulsed through his body.  It was around three in the morning and still quite warm in Kingston Harbor.  His beautiful, young wife, finally asleep in the main cabin below, had worn him out with her sexual gymnastics.  He had waited until she released her embrace and rolled over.  Then, when her breathing became slow and steady, he carefully slipped out of the cabin and came up into the tropical night.  In the west, a nearly full moon shone through a thin layer of alto cirrus casting a jeweled path across the calm waters.  To the east, he could see a few lights ashore, indicating the location of the historic Port Royal and the Jamaican Coast Guard Station.  Jack Roberts was in love with love and was thoroughly enjoying his new status as a husband.  So far, it sure beat the eight years he had spent in the US Marine Corps; especially the two tours in the Mideast sand lands.  He smiled, marveling at the way things worked out for him, and wishing the honeymoon would last forever.  That wasn’t going to happen.

One minute he was gazing at the clear, starlit path of the Milky Way overhead, and the next minute he was sailing overboard, as the bulbous nose of a cargo ship plowed through the anchorage, clipping the sailboat amidships.  Roberts hit the warm water and immediately went under, as the hull of the cargo ship washed over the broken boat.  The man was sucked close to the hull and received several lacerations as barnacles scrapped across his back.  He heard the thump, thump, thump of the cargo ship’s diesel engine as it passed, and when he finally surfaced he was surrounded by debris from the broken sailboat.  When he cleared his eyes, he saw the retreating stern of the cargo ship and noted that there were no visible running lights.  In fact the only light on the ship was a dim glow emanating from the port side of the massive bridge.  Written in large but partially obscured letters across the stern was the ship’s name.  Roberts wiped the salt from his eyes, but he couldn’t see it clearly.  It appeared to be Cape Bass or Copper Banks.  He looked around -- hope against hope -- however Mrs. Gentry Giles-Roberts was nowhere to be seen.

When the Roberts first arrived just before midnight, there were two other sailboats in the anchorage located just south of the Port Royal Underwater Archaeological Site, and offshore of the Jamaican Defense Forces Coast Guard Station Cagway.  Except for their anchor lights, they were dark; their occupants fast asleep.  Jack had silently slipped into a clear spot using the bright moonlight to guide him and, with little fuss, made their anchor fast, hoisted the yellow quarantine flag and turned on his own anchor light.  Now these other boats were rocking about but otherwise undamaged and completely unaware that a third boat had joined them and had been sunk by an off course coastal freighter. 

The Roberts’ rented sailboat was gone along with the woman he called The Fabulous Gentry. He had known her almost all his life.  They had grown up together, only separating when he went into military service and she went to college to become a teacher of high school Spanish, a romance language she loved.  After three tours in world hot spots, Jack had returned and rekindled their life-long romance. After graduating from college with honors, he landed a high paying job in a local stock brokerage firm and, with his finances secured, he formally proposed to the marriage that they had always knew would happen. 

He scanned the waters around him, looking for something substantial to cling to.  He found a floating cushion from the boat’s cockpit and looped his arms through the straps.  He wasn’t cold but he began to notice that there were cuts across his shoulders and back that were reacting to the salt water.  Other boaters in the anchorage were busy trying to keep their own sailboats afloat…and most likely unaware of the sinking of Raspberry Jam, the bareboat Jack and Gentry had leased for two weeks out of the Windward Islands Bare Boats location in Barrens Bight, on Roatan in the Bay Islands of Honduras.

By now, Jack Roberts was in full survival mode, blessed as it were with the background of an American combat veteran.  He paddled around in the darkness looking, unsuccessfully, for any signs that Gentry had somehow survived.  He found some articles of clothing, bits of Styrofoam, pieces of teak and he came across a floating plastic line which he recognized as the painter to the dinghy.   He pulled in the loose line until he came to a frazzled end and then hauled in the other direction.  He was rewarded with the still-inflated, rubber raft.  He climbed out of the water, flopped into the dinghy and took inventory.  That task didn’t take long.  The dinghy was empty.

All he wore were the dog tags that perpetually hung from his neck.  Gentry had kidded him about it, and he admitted that, someday, he would probably leave them in his bureau drawer.  It was the last vestige of a brief but dangerous career.  He was proud of having served his country and clung to the memories represented by wearing the military identification tags.  He had nothing else except the dinghy.

During the next few hours, Jack Roberts found enough articles of clothing in the debris field to cover his nudity.  But, except for a few pieces of drifting wood and fiberglass, he had nothing substantial enough to propel the rubber boat.   The movement of the shore lights indicated he and the detritus were being carried away from the anchorage by the outgoing tide.  The hours before sunrise gave the despondent young man some private time to mourn the loss of Gentry Giles-Roberts as he sifted through the flotsam and jetsam.  It wasn’t the first time he had to face the loss of someone close -- combat often provided appalling opportunities for such suffering by survivors.  This was different because it wasn’t supposed to happen in a peaceful anchorage on a warm, tropical night, or to the woman he loved.  It just didn’t make any sense.

PART ONE

Fathom: n. The length covered by the outstretched arms including the hands to the tips of the longest fingers; hence a definite measure of 6 feet, chiefly used to take soundings. Oxford English Dictionary

Fathom: vt. to get to the bottom of; understand thoroughly.  Webster’s New World College Dictionary

Chapter One: Dangerous Anchorage

Captain Ben Bass, Harriet Jacobs and Ben’s son, Grant, sat around the kitchen table in Grant’s spacious Tysons Corner, Virginia condo.  Ben and Harriet had just arrived, flying in to Leesburg Executive Airport from St. Martin in Ben’s Cavallo light jet.  Ben is the owner of Boynton Boats in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, and a partner with Sam Ko in the company Debonaire Cruises.  Ko is also the owner of Windward Island Bare Boats (WIBB), a sailboat leasing company with four Caribbean locations.  Harriet is Ben’s companion and works for Debonaire Cruises at St. Martin as the company’s chef de la cuisine.  The pair came to Virginia at Grant’s request.

Grant is an adjunct professor at the University of Virginia (UVA), while unofficially he works on various government projects for UVA’s Emerging Technologies Laboratory -- a number of them for the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency or DARPA.  He and his UVA colleagues designed the voice-activated computer control systems Ben uses in his ketch-rigged sailboat Abbondanza, and they have developed a new spinoff, for which Grant wants his father’s opinion.  The condo is conveniently near DARPA’s offices in Tysons Corner, and also close to the Kaiser Permanente Medical Center © where Grant’s girlfriend Claudia works.  Dr. Claudia Green recently returned from an extended period of volunteer work with Doctors Without Borders, serving Ebola victims in Central Africa.

I assume Claudia is still at the medical center, Grant. Ben said.  I was looking forward to seeing her again, and wanted Harriet to meet her.

She called earlier to explain she would be delayed.  I know she really wanted to be here when you arrived, Dad.  Grant paused for a moment before adding, She told me all about her vacation-from-hell in the Turks and Caicos, and the role you had in rescuing her and her friend.

Harriet’s eyes darted between Ben and his son.  The surprise on her face told Grant that Harriet didn’t know what an ordeal Claudia and Dr. Inez Madonna Pinzon had undergone after being kidnapped and held captive at Barry Bristol’s fortress-like mansion on Pine Cay.

Ben winked at Harriet and indicated he would tell her more later before quickly changed the topic by asking, What is this new development you are so excited about?

Grant took the hint.  He opened a large tube and extracted an engineering drawing which he unrolled on the table.

"The lab has been excited by the success you have demonstrated with the computer system in Abbondanza and we have been working on broader applications.  Grant smoothed out the parchment and began pointing to various components.  The drawing was entitled CASIII".

"What we have here is an application of the same technology, one that can be used by a large number of production sail and power boats.  The key components are an off-the-shelf computer, an application installed in an iPad, a few circuit boards that can easily be installed in production systems already onboard power boats and sailboats, and a few additional sensors.  We call it Casey.  The name comes from Computerized Autohelm System III or CASIII, since we consider Abby on Abbondanza as the first and Edie installed on the Debonaire class schooners as number two."

Ben studied the drawing for a few moments before asking for more information.  How does this interface with a production vessel?

Grant smiled.  It was exactly what he wanted his father to ask.  Well, sir, you have come to the very reason I wanted you to see this.  What we need is a classic demonstration of how the Casey system can be integrated with a modern production sailboat.  I have already discussed this with Fargo Dane at Boynton Boats and confirmed that the sailboats you have produced for WIBB and others use standard systems that, we believe, can accommodate the Casey interfaces.

Grant pointed to a component of the drawing.  "This is the replacement circuit board for the autohelm system Boynton Boats installed in the last two boats produced for WIBB’s location in Honduras.  I believe they were named Mangoes Chutney and Grape Jelly.  He moved his hand to another component.  This is the replacement circuit board for the diesel engine control box on those boats.  Over here are the one-for-one replacement circuit boards for the Global Positioning System or GPS, and the steering compass.  These boards are all designed to connect the boats’ production systems with the Casey computer using wireless technology.

He moved over to another side of the drawing.  While there are depth meters on both boats, neither boat currently has radar or sonar.  These low-cost Casey sensors have been engineered to fill those gaps. Grant’s finger found another component.  And these are closed circuit television (CCTV) transceivers with audio and speaker capability.  They are also wirelessly connected with the Casey computer and transmit to and receive from the video and audio information sensed by these thin, flat-panel display units.  The number of CCTV transceivers and flat panels, and their placement, will naturally depend upon the boat’s design.  Near 100% coverage should be accomplished with four or five strategically placed wireless transceivers.

Ben was impressed, and began to see where the conversation was headed.  He turned to Harriet and said, "Isn’t it about time for you to visit Kamura’s Kastaway Inn and the WIBB location at Barrens Bight?  Your culinary recommendations for the bare boat fleet might have a much broader appeal since Saki and Aiko Kamura also feed their guests at the Inn three meals a day."

Harriet quickly caught on and said, Well you promised we would visit all the WIBB locations and I have always wanted to see Roatan.

Grant smiled and said, Busted!’  He laughed.  I should have known you two would quickly guess we would like you to do a practical demonstration."

You and UVA want me to take your system, modify a stock WIBB bareboat and prove the concept, correct?

That’s exactly what we were thinking, Dad.  Do you think you could spare the time?  I know you have many other requirements now that you are involved with cruise boats, virtual technology and lord knows what else you do in addition to help manage about forty or more sailboats for Sam Ko.

Ben sat back in thought for a moment.  Sam Ko was always looking for new business opportunities and Saki’s location in the Bay Islands of Honduras was the only WIBB operation in the Western Caribbean.  Ben asked Grant if he had an atlas or, at least, a map of the Caribbean Sea.

How about that map you sent me before you visited Honduras a few years ago.  Will that do?  I have that pinned on the wall in our den.

Ben said, Good.  Small islands rarely show on Google Earth.

Ben and Harriet followed Grant to the Condo’s spare room which Grant and Claudia used as an office and music room.  Armed with paper sticky notes, Ben quickly marked the location of four Western Caribbean locations that might be appropriate for another WIBB bare-boat operation.

These are all small islands that are under administration by Colombia.  Isla San Andrés, Providencia and her companion Isla Santa Catalina, Seranna Cay, and Isla de Serranilla.  He paused and pointed to Seranna Cay and then Isla de Seranilla. 

Well, these last two might be stretching the point.  They are very remote and very small with little or no amenities.  But they might be interesting places to explore.  He wrote down the positions in his notebook.

I’ll call Sam Ko in the morning and discuss this with him.  If he agrees, I’ll contact Saki at Barrens Bight and see what the availability is for one of the boats you mentioned, Grant.  Then we will see if you and your colleagues have come up with another winner.

- ---  --- -

Captain Zarzoza was in his cabin reviewing the count of bales of U.S. currency that was just loaded aboard the cargo ship when he both heard and felt the collision.  He raced through the passageway and climbed up to the bridge where he found the drunken first mate at the helm, one hand on the big wheel and the other holding a nearly empty bottle of rum.  The mate turned to see his captain approaching.

"Have a drink, Cap’n Z, he slurred in Spanish.  His one good eye was bloodshot; the other a milky white.  He thrust the bottle towards the captain, who knocked it away, smashing it against the bulkhead.  Shards of glass and alcohol ran down to the deck which was already littered with empty rum bottles rolling around with every lurch of the ship.

The captain quickly scanned the radar to locate their position and heading.  They were now well south of the entrance to Jamaica’s Kingston Harbor.

What in hell have you done? he shouted as he grabbed the man’s filthy shirt.  What did you hit, you drunken bastard?

Instead of answering, the mate just grinned and then slipped to the deck, unconscious.

Captain Z, as he was known to his crew, grabbed the wheel and steadied the ship on a southerly course.  Then he set the automatic heading hold system and activated the ship’s intercom, hoping the antiquated system would work.  He called for two of his Spanish-speaking crewmembers to report to the bridge.  Before they arrived, he stood over the drunken first mate for a moment before making a decision.  He raised his leg and then stomped on the unconscious man, breaking his neck.

When the crewmen arrived, he told them the mate had fallen down.  The bridge was in a deplorable condition with bottles and wet, broken glass on the deck.  It smelled like a distillery.  They verified that the first mate was dead and were told to throw him overboard.  When they were done, Captain Zarzoza sent one young seaman to go roust the second mate, Jonas Borden, and then come back and clean up the mess.  He gave the other man orders to take a position at the helm.  In thirty minutes, he would order a course to Port Morgan at Cacor on the Haitian Ile à Vache...Cow Island.

Dino Zarzoza didn’t know what his ship had struck and that