Sea of Lies

By Judyth Stricklin

A Sailor's Dream
Beautiful Holly Johnson has decided she wants out. Fatherless and underprivileged, she has grown up in the shadow of the ships that visit the ports of South Chicago. Partying with the sailors and listening to their sea adventures, she dreams of living their exotic lifestyle. To what extent will she go to make her dreams come true, and at whose expense?
A Girl in Every Port
Garrett Walker is a seasoned, British Sailor who loves his job and the women. He sails the high seas without a care in the world, until a stop in a South Chicago port changes everything. His life is turned upside down by a beautiful blonde that he can't get out of his head, or his bed. On the edge of destruction, Garrett must make some life altering decisions, but it may be too late. Will the revelation of Holly's secrets ruin them both?
The crew of the UK Dawn each has a secret to hide, a story to tell. Join the high sea adventure involving manipulation, drugs and even murder, aboard a ship bound for foreign ports and lives headed for disaster.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 30, 2001
• ISBN: 9781469767680

Judyth Stricklin

Judyth Stricklin resides in Northwest Indiana. She holds an Associates degree in Social Psychology from Park College of Missouri. She spent several months on a cargo ship with her husband visiting North Africa, Spain, Germany and Belgium. She is currently working on the sequel to SEA OF LIES.

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Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Red Sky At Morning, Sailors Take Warning

Red Sky At Night, Sailors Delight

One Hand For The Ship And One Hand For Yourself

The Calm Before The Storm

Dead In The Water

When The Waves Turn The Minutes To Hours

Sailing under false colours

Ships that pass in the night–Longfellow

Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea

Into The Abyss

She Lies At Anchor

Batten down the hatches

Sailing The High Seas

Walk the plank

Man Overboard

Any Port In A Storm

Clear the decks

Epilogue

About the Author

Dedication  

Dedicated to you, the reader who has picked up this book. Thank you. This is my dream come true. May all your dreams come true, too.

Acknowledgements  

Thank you to my husband, Gordon, for his continued support and encouragement. I know I complain about hearing your stories a thousand times, but you really have supplied me with numerous ideas for this book. Thank you.

To my children, Kate and Callum: You are two phenomenal kids. Thank you for your patience, understanding, and love while mommy pulled this book together.

To my sisters and friends who read the manuscript: You gave me hope that someday, someone (other than myself) would think this story was worth publishing. I am grateful.

To the ladies at Rendezvous (especially Barb): you lit the fire under me to get this book finished. You also taught me to say, I’m a writer with pride. I will never forget you.

To Dave Bogovich: I think you were the first person to believe I could do this. So I made a promise to myself (a very long time ago) that the first one would go out to you. So here it is, Dave (wherever you are). I did it!!!

And last but not least, thank you to my parents–for life.

Cover Design by Jean Marie Keslin

Cover photo of ship taken and used with permission by FotoFlite, Ashford, Kent, England, U.K. TN23 4FB

Prologue  

She sat on the floor beside an open bureau drawer, playing dress-up with the things she pulled from inside. A silk scarf from the Orient went around her neck, a floppy hat from the Caribbean on her head. Gifts. Gifts, brought from foreign ports by her father for her mother. They were abandoned memories stuffed away like they could be erased from the mind but never the heart.

She shuffled through some more things and came up with a photograph. It was a picture of a young man, and there was water and what looked to be a part of a ship, and very far away in the background loomed the skyline of Chicago. She held it in her small hands, staring at it.

Who is this man, mommy? she said to her mother who lie across the foot of the bed watching her.

The little girl stood up and took the photo to her mother. The woman held the worn picture in her hand. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

Why does he make you sad? The little girl questioned again. She climbed up on the bed and snuggled against the warmth of her mother.

The woman wiped at her face then put an arm around her daughter.

He’s your father, she said, looking at the photo. That man is your father.

Staring past the girl, her mother continued, lost to another place, a different time. His eyes were the color of the sea in the fiercest storm, gray and cold, some people thought. Only I thought they were warm and interesting. You would know him, if you ever saw those eyes, she said finally looking into the girls eyes as she stroked her beautiful blonde hair, for there will never be another soul with eyes like your father’s.

The little girl stared at her mother, trying to absorb in her own fiveyear-old mind all that her mother had just said. The word father was strange for her.

For of all of the young girl’s years it had only been her mother and herself, besides the Portuguese baby-sitter who cared for her while her mother worked.

Red Sky At Morning, Sailors Take Warning  

She was 36,000 tons wearing a coat of gray, that from bow to amidships reflected a fresh layer of paint. Her five yellow cranes linked arms like lady dancers doing the Can Can. The name stamped across her stern, imbedded deep in her steel, read the U.K. Dawn.

Loaded with steel from Europe, the mighty ship inched her way past her sister ship, the U.K. Dusk, that sat docked at South Port Landing. Shouts rang across the water from crewmen who recognized each other.

Hey, Landis, you fairy! I can’t believe they let a tosser like you out of sea school!

Piss off, Whittier, you plonker. Hey, I hear the first mate’s been shagging your missus.

Maneuvered by tugs, the massive structure was moved and manipulated into its resting place along 95th street in South Chicago. Her crew tied lines and secured ropes without much more thought than it took for them to draw breath.

Garrett Walker, chief petty officer of the deck crew, left his men at the bow and walked toward the gangway. The movements of his slim, sixfoot-two tall body exhibited a saunter that was trademark of only a seasoned sailor. His eyes focused on the activity of cranes aboard the U.K. Dusk that sat across the street.

Garrett could count on one hand the number of times since he had been with the company that two sister ships ended up in the same port at the same time. It usually meant reuniting with old friends, in turn bringing good runs ashore. It was a shipping company’s nightmare—double the partying and less work from the men.

Garrett arrived at the gangway and stood a moment watching his crew. He had sailed with each deckhand before and most were good friends. Pride swelled up within him watching the men perform their duties. He had worked hard to get where he was today. Eight years he spent working for the company, The British Shipping Lanes, Ltd., the last three as bosun. He had partied hard those first years. But being conscientious about his work paid off and now that carried over to the crew he supervised. Knowing he could trust his men to do their job, Garrett went about his business. As he walked away he yelled back to his crew. "Anyone know who’s bosun over on the Dusk?"

Sam, one of the deckhands, answered him, Last time I heard it was Ian Maclane.

Garrett nodded his head. Ian was a good mate whom he hadn’t seen in quite awhile. He’d make a run over to see him.

Garrett climbed the stairs to the accommodations. He entered his cabin, hit the play button on the cassette player atop his desk and was immediately blasted with a track from one of his favorite bands. He reached under his desk and extracted a small tin box taped to the bottom of a drawer. From inside he withdrew a joint and flipped it between his lips. He laid the box down and then as an afterthought reached over and turned the key locking his cabin door.

Searching for a lighter, Garrett kicked off his work boots. He found a book of matches and sat down on the daybed across from his bunk. Lighting the joint, Garrett inhaled deeply then lay his head back listening to the music that filled the tiny cabin. He reached down to unbutton his jeans and stick his free hand just inside the waistband. With each hit, Garrett filled his lungs trying to unwind the rubber band that was wound tight as a drum inside him.

Bloody Chicago. He hated it. For partying he could think of several places better than Chicago. All the bars where the women were, happened to be miles away, and they usually managed to arrive in town when the weather was freezing cold. But landing in this shit-ass port was par for the course with the way the rest of the trip had gone. Several altercations with the engineers, freezing weather coming up the Lakes, and completely bypassing Toronto where he was hoping for some sins of the flesh with a bird he saw each time he was there.

When he finished, Garrett took the stub of his joint, placed it back in the tin box and returned it to its hiding place.

A voice came from the other side of his locked door. Why’s the bloody door locked, you plonker? Open up!

Garrett recognized one of his crewmembers. He reached over to turn the key in the lock, and then pulled open the door, allowing the sweet aroma of marijuana to escape the cabin.

Jake Landis entered the room and quickly closed the door behind him. You keeping that all to yourself? he asked.

Sorry, mate. Garrett answered as he went into the bathroom. I needed to get in here to unwind. There’s more. Garrett returned drying his hands. He threw the towel on his bunk, and then slipped on his work boots. Ready?

The two friends left the cabin in search of their evening meal.

After they ate, Garrett and Jake headed back toward Garrett’s cabin.

You going out tonight? Jake inquired.

Garrett hesitated. He didn’t really want to leave the ship. His plan was to wait for his best mate, Luke, who would be joining the ship sometime during the evening. I don’t know, mate. We’ll be here for a least a week, I’ll go out another night.

Come on. We haven’t had much shore leave since we entered the Saint Lawrence Seaway. Here’s your chance. The guys are hyped up for a good run ashore. I’m sure there’s a bird out there just waiting for ya. Jake tempted.

Reaching his cabin Garrett slid the key in the lock. All right, mate. I’ll meet you in the bar after I get cleaned up. Garrett entered his cabin listening to Jake whistling a dirty sea ditty as he walked down the alleyway.

In the shower, Garrett sang under the steamy water. As he lathered himself with soap he thought of a girl he had picked up in Cleveland, the last port in which they had shore leave. He had to have something to make up for what he had missed when they completely bypassed Toronto.

He had brought the girl back to the ship about two in the morning. They went straight to his cabin where she used and abused his body for three hours. When they finished, he climbed into the shower. The next thing he knew she had joined him. She took the soap from him and lathered his body from head to toe. She rinsed him off, and then sank down to her knees taking him into her mouth. The steamy, pulsating water on his back and the coolness of her mouth wrapped around him was incredible.

Thinking of it now, Garrett felt himself go hard. He could do with a bit of that this evening, he thought, as he put his hand to his hardness. Yes, he certainly could.

Out of the shower, Garrett splashed on some after-shave and combed his hair. He dressed in a faded pair of jeans, topped off with an England soccer shirt. He checked his hair in the mirror one last time.

He didn’t consider himself a great looking guy, though he did well enough with the ladies. He tried to keep in shape by playing sports and lifting weights when he was out to sea. His body was tan from spending the last few months traveling south of the equator. He had dark eyes and dark hair that he preferred to keep short, and he wore only one earring when many of the guys were now wearing more.

His British accent was a big plus for him, especially in the States. He could come right out and ask a girl to shag and she’d answer yes straight away just because he sounded so charming.

Ready to go, Garrett stuffed his money in a tight front pocket, grabbed his keys and shut off the light. He whistled as he locked the cabin door and headed toward the crew bar.

Tony Beldue, Jake Landis and Sammy McNiel, all members of Garrett’s crew, were in the bar drinking beer while they waited for the others to arrive. Garrett entered the bar, grabbed a beer and sat down to wait for the rest of their group.

Good port for flesh? Jake asked Garrett. With it being Jake’s first trip up the Lakes he inquired at every port.

Aye, you should be all right, Jake. Got to watch’em though. A few are looking to hook up with some plonker like you to get out of this town, Garrett answered, trying to scare him away from the local ship groupies.

Nick Peters, another crewmember, came in ready to go. Let’s roll men. The rest gulped down their beers and they all headed out.

As they started down the gangway, four women were headed up. Here come the women, Jake announced.

Aye, the local monsters. Sammy answered in his thick Irish accent. Them whores will drink all yer beer and rob you blind.

True, but they’ll be there to warm Jake’s bunk when he staggers back to the ship alone in the wee hours of the morning, Nick said, taking the piss out of Jake.

You see them in every bloody town, Garrett stated with disgust, his days of consorting with the local whores long past.

Thank fuck for that, Nick answered. They all cheered.

Isn’t this supposed to be a secure dock? Garrett asked, as he passed the tiny booth that housed a security guard looking somewhat distracted. How’d those damn monsters get past security?

The guys bellowed with laughter at Garrett’s confusion.

I think the guard was a bit preoccupied, Nick answered with a snicker. It was only then that Garrett saw the illicit act going on inside the tiny hut between the guard and a monster down on her knees.

As they left the dock, Sammy stopped long enough to light a joint and pass it around. They walked down 95th street and crossed over to the local establishment called the Corner Sports Bar. At the entrance Garrett left the group and headed toward the sister ship a short distance away. "I’m going up to the Dusk to see who’s there."

The men nodded.

I’ll see you guys at the disco place. Tony, you remember where? Garrett shouted after them.

With his back turned, Tony held up his hand in acknowledgment. The men entered the bar to have a drink.

As Garrett leapt up the gangway of the U.K. Dusk, he stared up at the massive ship. He thought about some of his previous trips with the company. The Dusk had been the first ship he worked on. He was young, naive, and half the time stoned. He made some close friends and enjoyed good times. The ports were plentiful with easy women and wild drugs. Since then, he had settled down a bit. He became selective about his women and the drugs. He grew up enough to keep his job.

Inside the accommodations, Garrett headed toward the bosun’s cabin. He was about to knock when the door flew open and out stormed a beautiful blonde girl, nearly knocking him over. She flew past him down the alleyway as Garrett stared after her.

A voice from inside the cabin grabbed his attention. Garrett Walker! What the hell you doing here, mate?

Garrett stepped inside the tiny cabin and shook Ian’s hand. Hey, Ian. I see you’re still breaking their hearts, he said referring to the bird that had almost knocked him over. There was no doubt in his mind that she was one unhappy lady. Ian had a reputation for making women create scenes all over the world.

Bloody hell, mate, it’s good to see you, Ian said. "The guys said that the Dawn had pulled in. I thought you might be on there. Hey, let me go grab some beers from the bar. You still drinking Carlsberg?"

Garrett nodded. Aye.

A few minutes later Ian returned with four beer cans balanced in his hands. He handed them to Garrett, and then closed the door to the cabin. Garrett popped the tops on two of the beers and handed one to Ian.

Cheers. Ian walked over and grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the desk and offered one to Garrett.

Garrett shook his head as he sat down on the daybed.

Ian lit up and tried to find a spot to sit on his junk filled bunk.

Garrett noticed the mess. Suitcases, some full, some empty, were scattered across the tiny room. What the hell’s going on? Are you paying off here?

Aye, mate. Ian took a long drag of his cigarette. Flying home to get married. Didn’t you know that?

Garrett shook his head. You? Getting married? No, I didn’t hear that one. Are you serious?

Ian nodded his head. He knocked some clothes on the floor and flopped down across his bunk. Fuck! I can hardly believe it myself. He flicked some ashes into an empty beer can that sat amidst the pile on his bed. She caught me, I’m gonna be a dad in five months.

Garrett shook his head again. He laughed. Bloody hell! You’re going to play daddy, Ian? Why this one? You got that kid up in Canada, you didn’t marry his mama.

Ian ran his fingers through his hair. I know. But this is my girl back home; I’ve known her a long time. She won’t let me get away, Garrett.

Garrett gave him a look loaded with skepticism.

I swear mate, she won’t, Ian stated.

Garrett laughed at him. So that’s why the blonde bird nearly knocked me over running out of here. She found out the truth, aye?

Ian stuffed the butt of his cigarette in the can and set the can on the table beside his bunk. He rubbed his stomach underneath his shirt. I didn’t even tell her I was getting married, just that it was over between us. Bugger me, did she get the hump!

Garrett popped the tops on the other two beers. He handed one to Ian. I bet she did. He saw her fury as she came out the door. He also saw that she was gorgeous.

I told her I was going to marry her.

No shite, Ian. Who hasn’t said that to a bird when he’s trying to get a leg over?

They laughed.

No. Wasn’t like that though. I’ve been seeing her for a while now. I thought we might actually get something going. Then Sheila back in England lays on me that she’s having my kid. Nothing else I can do. I can’t keep leaving kids all over the place, Garrett. One of em’s going to cut my knob off if I keep doing that.

Garrett laughed. So are you leaving the sea then or what?

Ian jumped up to grab another cigarette. Are you daft? I’ll be back after my leave, about six weeks. I’m not giving up this game for nobody.

Garrett understood exactly what he was saying. He couldn’t think of one thing that would make him leave the sea. Nothing or nobody.

"So what’s going on over on the Dawn? You got a good crew on?" Ian inquired, sitting back down on his bunk.

Aye. Lot of good guys, Tony Beldue, Sammy McNiel, and Jake Landis. Oh, and you remember Luke Jensen?

Isn’t he that American mate of yours?

Garrett nodded. Aye, that’s him. Him and his wife are joining here. Should be sometime tonight.

Who’s he replacing? Ian asked, taking a swallow of beer.

Billy Coots.

Ian nearly spit his beer across the room. That nutter! The one that comes to the mess room without any clothes on?

One and the same, Garrett answered.

Hell, mate. I’m glad it was you and not me. How long have you had him with you?

"About two months now. Back in Cleveland the arse went and stole a forklift on the quay. Ends up putting a dent in some hot shot’s big luxury car. You should have seen