A Tugboater's Life

By Bob Ojala

Curt Steiner has served twelve years as a Boatswain’s Mate in the Coast Guard, but it is time to move on. He is still deciding on the where and how to move on when he runs into his high school sweetheart, Lois, at a party during a visit home to Michigan. What Curt does not know is that Lois still holds a torch for him, and their meeting at the party is not by chance. When Curt meets Lois’s son, Steve, he is even more convinced that it is time to become a family of three. In doing so, Curt and Lois will enter the tugboating life, with its long days and nights, and even longer stretches of absences. It is the kind of life that will knock most any young couple off their feet. It stands to be seen if Curt and Lois will become a casualty of the tug boating life or whether they can weather the storms together.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Unapologetic Voice House LLC
• Release date: Apr 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781736545249

Bob Ojala

Bob Ojala has written several non-fiction books about Marine Surveying, including Sweetwater Sailors, a picture book describing the lives of the different kinds of Great Lakes sailors. He has worked with many men and women in the maritime business, whom he respected for their serious lifestyle. Writing about them in fiction, changing names where appropriate, was his way of honoring them. With his background, Bob feels that he can describe the life of these merchant mariners and show the reader their exciting, even dangerous career, and also how important these people are for the country. He hopes readers enjoy the stories, many based upon actual events. Bob and his wife of 35-years have six children, raising them in Oak Park, Illinois. Bob is a Wisconsin native with Finnish roots.

Book preview

A TUGBOATER’S LIFE

A TUGBOATER’S LIFE

BLUE-COLLAR ROMANCES

Bob Ojala

Copyright © 2021 Bob Ojala.

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other— except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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ISBN - 978-1-7365452-3-2

E-ISBN: 978-1-7365452-4-9

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021902341

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Published by The Unapologetic Voice House

www.theunapologeticvoicehouse.com

Scottsdale, Arizona

Cover Design & Interior Format by The Killion Group, Inc.

Contents

Acknowledgments

Curt

Lois

Curt

Lois

Curt

Lois

Curt

Lois - Playing House

Curt

Lois

Ben And Jenny

Curt

Lois

Curt

Wedding Day

Meet Louise Preston

Curt - Uncle Bill’s Project

Tragedy

Saying Goodbye

Adopting Stevie

Author’s Note

About the Author

To the working men I have known and worked with, particularly those in the maritime industry.

They are hard-working and dedicated to their jobs and are also great role models for their children. They have wives who put up with their long absences and understand their husband’s dedication.

Together, they keep the marine industry moving, and our country’s heavy industry and infrastructure alive and healthy.

Acknowledgments

I’ve seen many authors giving credit to their Editors, and I always thought it sounded a little silly. One author called his editor his second wife. I did not understand!

Then I started writing fiction, and things changed. I had serious stories to tell, but I was writing in my non-fiction style, just telling the facts.

Luckily my publisher recommended Nicole Amma Twum-Baah to edit my writing, and she changed me into a believer. If you enjoy this story, say Thank you, Amma!

A good editor does much more than correct your spelling, grammar and punctuation. They make the story flow, even changing the order of your chapters, so the story doesn’t lose the reader. My words remained, but I soon saw that Amma made my characters come alive.

Amma, I cannot thank you enough!

Curt

Leave the thinking to me, Steiner. It looks more dramatic with the high-speed chase!

We were on patrol, just southwest of Puerto Rico, near Isla Mona. We’d had drug activity in the area for the last several months, bringing cocaine to Mayaguez and even over to St. Thomas. The runners were avoiding confrontations with us near the Florida coast, and were targeting Puerto Rico and the U.S Virgin Islands.

I was at the wheel on a 154-foot, fast response, Coast Guard Cutter. Our Captain, a young Lieutenant, just a couple years out of OCS, was standing near me with a big smile on his face as he watched two small boats trying to run from us. Stay on their ass, Steiner, he tells me. We need this one.

I know what the Lieutenant wants. His capture numbers are below those of the other Cutters in our District, and he’s trying hard to make Lt. Commander. He wants the photos showing him capturing the prisoners, and the videos of the chase to show his superiors what a hero he is.              

Shouldn’t we be firing a few warning rounds, sir? I asked him. This will be easier if we can slow them down.

Leave the thinking to me, Steiner. It looks more dramatic with the high-speed chase. He spoke over the deck speakers ordering the crew to man the rails with their rifles and the videographer to keep shooting the action.

As we pulled closer, the boats realized they could not outrun our 28-knot speed, so each boat uncovered a deck-mounted machine gun and they opened fire on us. Two of our lightly armed men on deck were hit. Only then did the Lieutenant tell our machine gunner to open fire. Within minutes, the two boats were sinking. We hauled the surviving drug runners aboard and shackled them. Most of the drugs went down with the boats.

Shit! There go our numbers! That is all the Lieutenant had to say.

Our crew members were not fatally wounded, thanks to their armored vests, but when we returned to Miami, the Lieutenant had a lot of explaining to do during an official investigation.

My name is Curt Steiner, and I’ve spent twelve years as a Boatswain’s Mate in the Coast Guard. I thought about staying 20 years to retire, but I had a problem with taking orders, not from people who knew what they were doing of course. Take for instance, the Commander I had on my Coast Guard buoy tender working out of New York Harbor. His orders made sense and he treated the crew with respect. I served on that ship for five years.

When I transferred to a small cutter out of Miami chasing drug runners in the Caribbean, it was exciting for a while. But then we got this new Commanding Officer, a young Lieutenant probably just 29-years old, lacking ship operating experience. He had a great Exec who was an experienced W-3, Warrant Boatswain, yet the Lieutenant wanted to call all the shots. Many times, he needlessly put us in harm’s way just so he could make our drug-capture look better in his reports. He was mostly just looking to make headlines when we got home, with all that captured grass and cocaine.

So, after my twelve is done in a few months, I’ve decided to call it quits. I made First Class Petty Officer a year ago, and everyone is expecting me to make Chief on my next hitch, but I’ve decided this career must end. Several times, I was ready to mouth-off to that pip-squeak Lieutenant but bit my tongue. He would certainly have brought me up on charges, and I did not want to screw up my clean record.

I’ve looked at another transfer, but all the open jobs are on other drug-chasers, and the C-O’s would be similar. Let’s face it, the face of the service has changed in twelve years, and it is time for me to get out.

My life in the Coast Guard is what made me love the sea, so I’ve decided to go back home to Michigan and see what jobs are available in the maritime business on the Great Lakes. I’ve requested a few weeks of leave in April, and my hitch is over in mid-June. While I’m home, I’ll ask around about sailing jobs on the Great Lakes. Deep-Sea jobs don’t interest me. When I looked at the 60-on, 30-off Union schedules of the guys sailing ore boats on the Lakes, that seemed interesting.

As for my romantic life, I’ve never done well with the opposite sex. I don’t like one-night stands, yet I can’t seem to hold a long-term relationship together either. I suppose I’d like to have a good woman in my life. I just haven’t found one who is on the same wavelength as me. This is why my meeting with Estrella on the beach in Miami was a welcome surprise.

I was sunbathing at the beach one day, not long after arriving in Miami when a soccer ball hit me in the leg. I looked up and saw this cute little kid staring up at me. He looked like he was afraid to come closer to retrieve his ball, so I stood up and gently kicked the ball back to him. He kicked it back to me, and after a few rounds of kicking back and forth, he broke into a big smile.

Not too long after we began to play with the ball, this pretty, young, Hispanic lady came over and said something to the boy in Spanish.

It’s okay, he’s not bothering me," I said to her. I didn’t hear what she had said to him, and even if I did, I wouldn’t have understood it.

Are you sure? I told him he shouldn’t be bothering people, she responded in perfect English, with a very pleasing accent. She had a protective hand on his shoulder and I could tell she was concerned.

Really, I don’t mind, I said, trying to sound as friendly as possible. I asked her what the boy’s name was and she told me he was called Roberto.

He’s five, she added. His Anglo friends call him Robbie."

I looked around briefly before asking her where I could find her when we were done playing together. She pointed at a nearby spot where an umbrella and a stroller with a baby girl in it sat. I’m under the umbrella right there. I have my daughter in the stroller, so I’d better get over to her now.

The beach was crowded, which is typical for a Sunday, so I understood the mother’s concern. I’d heard that Miami even had dogs abducted off the beach, so Roberto’s mom had a right to be concerned for her son’s safety. I tried to show her that I wanted to protect him and was not a threat.

I’ll keep him close to you, I assured her, I don’t mind playing for a while. I’m not much good with a soccer ball, though.

She smiled and nodded.

My name is Curt, by the way."

I’m Estrella, she responded as she turned to walk away. Just bring him over when you get tired of him, she said over her shoulder as she ran over to her toddler.

Robbie and I played soccer for nearly a half-hour. He spoke a little English, but not very well. I was surprised because his mother spoke English perfectly. I had just kicked the ball back to Robbie when he picked it up and ran over to his mother.

I walked over to Estrella. She looked up from where she was sitting on a colorful blanket. Robbie was drinking water from the bottle she had handed to him. So, you had enough?

I was still going strong. I think Robbie must have been thirsty.

Estrella smiled. Would you like a bottle of water? I have more in the cooler. Take one.

Thanks, I said. Robbie’s a cute kid.

She nodded. Thank you.

I knelt in the sand next to her. I wanted to learn more about her and her family, so I asked, Can I ask you a question?

Sure. What? she asked, her eyes on Robbie. She seemed like a very attentive mother.

I’m simply curious. You speak such good English, but Robbie doesn’t, I was wondering why.

That is when Estrella told me a little bit about her life. She had been living in the United States for about twenty years. Her parents brought her from Cuba when she was about Robbie’s age and she went to school in Miami.

Roberto starts school this fall, she continued, so he’ll learn English then. Until then, most of his friends speak Spanish and I work every day. My mom keeps him all week, and she only speaks to him in Spanish even though I’ve told her to speak to him in English. She’s just more comfortable using Spanish.

I see. Will he have a hard time in school, only speaking Spanish? I asked.

It depends on the teacher, Estrella said, brushing her long hair away from her face. I had a good teacher who was bi-lingual. Now, all the teachers here are bi-lingual. Not every teacher is patient though, and some teach most of their classes in Spanish in our neighborhood. That’s because it’s hard to teach in both languages. Those who start school with good English, do much better, and learn faster.

That’s a shame, I said. So, Robbie will start school with one strike against him because he hasn’t been using English.

I guess so, but there’s not much I can do.

What about your husband? Does he speak English? Maybe he can help.

My husband was killed last year. He tried to stop a robbery at a store in our neighborhood and he was shot. By the time they got him to the hospital, he had died.

I’m so sorry. It must be tough for you with two kids alone.

My mom helps, but I work six days most weeks, just to keep up. My husband had no insurance, and our savings were gone by the time I was able to find this job.

There was a brief pause as Estrella turned her attention to Robbie who was trying to balance the ball in the air with one foot. Then she reached over and gave her daughter a snack. I began to feel self-conscious, so I attempted to break the silence, but Estrella beat me to it.

I want to move out of here. Without my mom to watch the kids, I can’t live somewhere else. So, why are you in Miami?

I’m in the Coast Guard, I said, eager to be able to tell her a little about myself. I wanted her to know I meant no harm to her or her children. I’m on one of those small Coast Guard Cutters in the harbor.

"How long have you been in Miami?

I was transferred here from New York, just three weeks ago. So, I’m very new to Miami.

So, you grew up in New York?

No, I was just stationed on a ship there. I’m originally from Michigan.

Then you’ve traveled a lot?

I smiled at the sudden onslaught of questions from Estrella. She was finally coming around and seemed to relax the more we got acquainted.

Not as much as you might think, I responded. I visited the states around New York, and now Miami. That’s all. But tell me about you. You said you found a good job?

It wasn’t great to start. I was just hired as a receptionist at a steel fabrication company out by the airport. The clients started telling my boss I was polite and spoke good English, so being a nice guy, he looked for a way for me to earn extra money. He knew I had lost my husband. I had taken a couple college courses in accounting before Roberto was born, so he asked me to work extra hours helping our accountant. I work the front desk answering the phones and I do my accounting work.

Wow. You’re ambitious. That has to tire you out.

Estrella shrugged. I don’t mind the work. I’m doing it for the extra money. That’s why I work a lot of Saturdays as well. With Roberto going to school, and Mireia getting older, I need to increase my pay so I can get away from my dangerous neighborhood. I’d have to move my mom as well or pay for daycare.

That’s tough. So, the little one is Mireia? What a pretty name.

My husband called her that, it means ‘pure like a bright light’. Her given name is Marisol, so Mireia is just a nick-name, as you say in English.

Do you come to the beach every weekend? I asked.

No. We have to take a bus to the beach, and you know the buses are not dependable. We don’t get here too often.

You came with Robbie and Mireia on the bus, with the stroller and that cooler?

Yes. That’s why we don’t come very often.

I hate to see you get home like that. I have a car, and I’d be happy to drive you home.

Estrella hesitated briefly and then said, You don’t have to do that. I’m used to the bus.

Hey, I’m not a bad guy. Let me do something nice for you and just drive you home. Otherwise, I’m just going back to my ship and play cards, and I play cards too much.

If you really don’t mind. It sure would be safer than the bus.

Okay then. Are you ready to leave? My car is a couple blocks away, so I’ll help you get your things to the street, and then I’ll get the car and come pick you up.

You’re so kind. Are you sure?

I’m not doing it to be kind. You’re a nice lady with two kids. I’m protecting you from the bad things on the bus, I said with a chuckle. Estrella laughed a little, so I think she was finally good with it.

I helped gather their gear and carried it to the street. Then I jogged to my car and drove back to get them. I was expecting she might have taken off, but she was still standing there. Estrella appeared to be about twenty-five years old. She was tiny, probably only five-foot three, and quite good looking, with a light brown complexion. Her children appeared to be of a lighter complexion, which made me think her husband was more of Spanish descent, while Estrella may have had some native genes. Other than some Native American kids in my school, and the African American guys on my ships, I’d never known many non-Anglo people in my life. I was very attracted to Estrella, but knowing nothing about her culture, I didn’t want to distress her by flirting. I would just give them a ride home and leave.

I helped the kids into the back seat and buckled them in. I didn’t have any proper seats for the kids, and Estrella said it would be okay. I promised to drive carefully, and she finally smiled at me. I jumped into the driver’s seat and asked where we were headed. She directed me to a small street along the Miami River, which at first looked nice. Then the neighborhood turned very industrial. Her house was small and sat across the street from a small ship repair yard. Certainly, no neighborhood for her children to run around and play in. Estrella must have seen the look on my face but chose not to say anything.

The neighbors were watching, I could sense their stares. They were not threatening in any way, they just seemed surprised to see Estrella pull up in a car with this Anglo guy. I helped Estrella get her things to her door, and I started to say goodbye. Estrella stopped me and asked me if I wanted to come in.

I can make us some tacos if you aren’t in a hurry, she said. It’s the least I can do to repay your kindness.

That’s not necessary. I don’t want to put you through that kind of trouble.

I’m going to make something for the kids anyway. It’s not any trouble. I wish I had something besides tacos, but Roberto asked me for tacos this morning, and that’s all I have ready.

Tacos would be great. That’s something we don’t get on the ship.

Okay, that’s settled. Come inside. Would you mind keeping an eye on Mireia while I start cooking the meat?

"No problem. Is there something she likes to play with?

There’s a box of wooden blocks over in the corner by the TV. She likes to build them but watch out because she also likes knocking them over.

I played with Mireia and talked to Robbie. He brought me toys and said their names in Spanish. English? he would say with each toy. I soon caught on to what he wanted and started teaching him the English names of the toys he brought to me. Soon, we were playing the name game with Estrella’s kitchen utensils.

I’ve been listening, Curt. You’re so patient with him, Estrella said after Robbie brought me a spoon from the kitchen. Tell me if you’ve had enough, and I’ll tell him to stop.

No, please. I’m also learning some Spanish. I’m having a good time with Robbie.

You’re kind. I wish there were someone in the neighborhood who would speak English with him. Even those with good English, they only want to speak Spanish at home, and I know Roberto needs to speak better English to do good in school.

I would have liked to offer to spend time with her kids during my time off the ship. I was afraid to say anything. I didn’t want her to think I was trying to force a relationship.

Estrella was putting dishes of meat, tortillas, cheese and all the trimmings on the table. She then said, Do you like black beans? I have those too.

Anything different from the ship food will be wonderful. I like other beans, so black beans should be great.

Okay then. We are ready. Can you put Mireia in her high-chair for me?

I carried Mireia to the table but didn’t know what to do with her, so I placed her in her chair with both of her feet on one side of the divider. Estrella came to help, she looked like she was trying to stop herself from laughing. She leaned in to get Mireia’s legs into the right place and kissed me on the cheek. Nothing was said, and I wasn’t sure what to think, so I ignored it.

When we sat down to eat, Estrella showed me the proper way to put together a soft taco, which certainly was not a skill learned in Michigan, or even in New York, for that matter. She wanted to hear about Michigan, and why I joined the Coast Guard. She was very curious about my shipboard life, and I was enjoying the conversation.

Once I felt she was comfortable with me and our conversation, I asked her what I had been wanting to ask her all along. I asked her to tell me about her husband.

She didn’t seem to mind because she jumped right into talking about Luis. From what I gathered; Luis was a good man who had worked at the airport as a baggage handler. He worked hard so Estrella could stay home with the children. According to her, he had bought their house for cheap at a tax auction. It was in awfully bad condition, but he rebuilt it in his spare time.

Was Luis from Cuba as well?

No, Luis was from Venezuela. His father was in the government there, but on the wrong side when the changes came. He was assassinated, and Luis and his brother came to the United States and applied for asylum. Because his father had been killed, his asylum request was granted. Luis was already fourteen, so it was too late for him to start a good education here. He was promoted to a Lead Man position with the airline.

How long were you married?

We had Roberto before we were married. When we decided to have another child, Luis asked me to marry him.

The more we talked, the more I was learning that people are the same everywhere. These two Hispanic people from different countries had met in Miami and fallen in love. They both