Finding Sausalito: Part Two: Return To South America

By Scott Lumry

After losing his new yacht in a tropical storm off the coast of El Salvador, Craig Kazynski and his crew are ordered by the FBI to locate the sunken yacht to retrieve a briefcase hidden on it while it was hijacked by a notorious South American drug lord prior to getting caught in the storm. .Once again the crew faces danger, peril, and death trying to accomplish the task set upon them by a crazed FBI agent who isn’t quite on the level either. Will the crew survive yet another wild ride in the Pacific ? Ride along with Kaz and his crew and find out

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9781387550180

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Finding Sausalito

Part Two: Return to South America

by

Scott Lumry

© 2008 Scott Lumry. All rights reserved.

Scott Lumry has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. Furthermore, any image shown or depicted herein is for informational purposes only and is no way intended to reflect or represent an actual location or event.

                            ISBN 978-1-387-55018-0

For me. I couldn’t just stop at one. I mean, he has to get the boat back somehow…

To learn more about the adventures of Craig Kaz Kazynski and his crew visit www.scottlumry.com

1

What time is it? I mumbled over to Jeff who was lying on the couch across from me in the salon of my boat.

Huh? he said, sitting up quickly. He looked around briefly and fell back down, his left arm draping over his face.

I raised my head and looked over on the wall, squinting to focus on the numbers of the antique Mariner’s clock that hung there.

Oh shit!’ I yelled. Get up!"

Waaah? Jeff replied sitting up sharply again, looking around in a stupor. Once again, just as quickly, he fell backward, his head slamming into the couch cushion.

THE GIRLS! I shouted. Their plane will be here in twenty minutes! Get up! We gotta go now!

We had stayed up all night playing cards, drinking beer and working on some new songs for our group we had re-formed since living together on my boat and my neighbor Tony Myrnas’ fifty seven foot Chris Craft in the berth next to mine. Tony had gone back to his other home in the Dominican Republic to give us all room to live until I could get a house for us.

Jeff and I pulled ourselves up off the couches and stumbled out the aft door of the salon out onto the deck. We’re gonna be late! Guy’s ... come on. HEY! LETS GO! I yelled over at Tony’s boat in the next berth.

I received no response.

Jeff and I hurried over to the ladder, climbed down off the boat. I stopped at Tony’s boat and beat on the hull while Jeff ran full bore up to the parking lot, over to my 1951 Chevrolet half ton pickup and climbed in.

DAN, PHIL!! I shouted, banging harder on the hull.

Presently my two comrades came dashing out onto the deck, Phil still tucking his shirt in his pants, Dan combing his hair, as they reached the ladder and climbed down off the Chris and followed me up to the parking lot, climbing in the new custom Chevrolet van I had purchased a week ago to haul everyone around in.

I looked over at Jeff sitting in the old pickup from my drivers seat and whistled at him.

Huh? Oh yeah, I forgot we had that, he said looking over at me from the truck, still in a stupor.

He got back out, hurried over and climbed in the passenger side of the van. I started the engine, mashed the gearshift lever into reverse, hurriedly backed the van out of the parking lot, slapped the lever down into drive and peeled rubber out of the Johnson Street parking lot, out to the main drag where we turned left and attempted to speed through downtown Sausalito (not possible, between tourists and traffic) up to Highway 101. It was late afternoon, the traffic on southbound 101 was heavy and it would take us another hour before we reached San Francisco International airport, which was actually only ten minutes south of San Francisco.

Where are the guys at? They were supposed to meet us here? asked Mary, looking around the baggage claim area.

Yeah, I thought they were excited we were coming, said Veronica, a hint of disgust in her voice.

They’ll be here, said Erene confidently smiling.

I can’t wait to see Jeff again, said Veronica, a wistful look upon her face, her beautiful brown, Mexican eyes, staring off into space.

Dan too!, said Mary. I can’t believe we’re going to be moving here!

Back in the van, we raced along, zipping in and out of the traffic snaking our way across the bridge.

You’re gonna get a ticket when you get to the toll booth, man, said Jeff gripping the safety strap. They watch the traffic on monitor’s you know.

Better a ticket than the hell we can catch for being late said Dan from the back seat.

No shit, was all I answered, concentrating on my driving.

We rolled up to the toll booth window and I held out my six bucks, hoping the attendant would quickly grab it, however no hand was visible for receiving.

I stopped, looked over at the attendant, a short older, evil looking Asian woman, who turned and handed me a long green piece of paper.

Present for you, speed racer, she smiled, revealing two missing front teeth. Ninety six dollar pleeze. No have cash, we take credit card too!

Snickering ensued all around me. I quickly dug out my wallet, pulled out five twenty’s and handed them over. She snatched it out of my hand like a dog grabbing a treat.

Wait for change please, she said turning back to her till.

The gate lifted and I hollered back, Keep it - Gung Hay Fat Choy! as I floored the van and we took off heading into the 19th Avenue exit.

Ease off the throttle man, said Phil. You just bought this, you need to break it in,

I’m planning on dumping it in a few months, I really don’t give a rats ass, I answered as I whizzed around a city bus pulling out of its stop at Geary Street.

Keep it at thirty, you’ll get all green lights, said Jeff.

Screw thirty, I’m trying for sixty! I answered.

Just then Dan’s cell hone began to ring.

Uh oh, said Phil.

Dan rummaged around in his pocket but was unable to answer before it quit ringing. Then Jeff’s phone took off, playing a digital version of the Queen hit Bohemian Rhapsody. Jeff pulled it out of its holster and turned it on.

"Hey babe! No - no we’re almost there. A wreck on the Golden Gate Bridge. (lie) Yeah, a bad one. (bigger lie) No, no reception on the bridge, (huge lie). Kaz has it floored, we should be there in about fifteen minutes.

Twenty, I yelled back.

Thirty, snickered Dan.

No, we left in time, it’s just that the traffic has been really bad. Hey, Dan said to tell Mary he’s couldn’t get his phone out of his pocket fast enough ... (brief silence, then looking over at Dan) ... she’s says call her back and tell her yourself, dumb ass. Okay, yeah, love you too babe, see you in a bit."

Jeff shut off his phone and slid it back in its holster. Dan punched in Mary’s number as we raced along 19th avenue, passing by the Stonestown shopping center. I wasn’t going sixty, but the lights were staying green in our favor. Dan held the phone up to his ear for some time, staring blankly out the window.

The answering service come on? asked Phil finally, looking over at him.

Dan moved the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen, then laughed. I forgot to punch the ‘call’ button, he said sheepishly pushing it as the rest of us laughed.

Hi Babe, he said. Yeah, I miss you too. I think we’re pretty close now. Yeah, I know he said that. We are close, about ten minutes I think, said Dan.

Fifteen, I said.

Twenty, laughed Jeff again.

No Kaz can’t call Erene, it’s against the law in California to talk on a cell phone while you’re driving. Yes, it really is! Look, I can see the airport ahead of us now. We’ll be there in a bit ... okay, love you too. Dan closed his phone and pushed it back into his front pocket.

That was a heck of a lie, said What airport? All I see is the graves of the military cemetery.

Well, we’re close, anyway, Dan replied with a short laugh.

We sailed along Interstate 280, the digital readout on the dashboard changing back and forth between seventy nine and eighty miles per hour, as we took the 380 interchange which led down to Highway 101 and the SFO airport exit. I kept my foot heavy on the gas pedal as we crossed back over Highway 101 and sped down into the San Francisco International Airport entrance. I followed the terminal signs for American Airlines and we were there in a record twelve minutes after our phone call. I slammed on the brakes as I pulled up in front of the American Airlines arrival queue, looking all over for our girls.

There they are, said Jeff pointing some ten yards away from us. All four of our lovely ladies stood just inside the glass doorway looking out at the traffic as it moved at a snails pace through the passenger pick up area. Jeff suddenly jumped out and ran up ahead. Veronica saw him coming from inside the terminal and dashed out side to meet him, followed quickly by the others as I pulled up to them. We greeted our ladies with long kisses and hugs, quickly loaded their luggage into the van and headed at a more sedate pace back out of the terminal, up to Interstate 280, back up to 19th avenue through San Francisco. The girls were chattering away about their trip and asking lots of questions about things they were seeing as we traveled along.

I thought for sure Vince and Jenny would be with you guys? asked Erene. They’re way too busy. I thought we’d stop at Vince’s new restaurant for dinner, I said looking over at my beautiful fiancé.

That’d be great! she said. I can’t wait to see them !

How are they doing? asked Mary.

Well, because of Vince being who he is, they were busy right from opening night. Jenny seems to keep things running out front like a watch, which allows Vince to concentrate on the food. Too bad you ladies couldn’t have been here for the grand opening. A lot of big names were there. Robert Williams, Tom Hannning and his wife, almost like a red carpet Hollywood affair.

Wow, I wish we could have been there, said Erene.

It was funny, Dan got a little loaded and ended up arm wrestling Robert Williams for his autograph! laughed Jeff.

He’s a great guy, said Dan. Lives up in Mill Valley somewhere. He came down to the marina the week after Vince’s opening and we jogged around Sausalito for awhile together.

Really? Oh my God! said Mary astonished.

You ladies will be meeting a lot of famous people here if you deal in high dollar homes, I said.

That’s all we sell, smiled Erene. I can’t wait!

I had turned off 19th Avenue, just before the Golden Gate Bridge and drove us down to Fisherman’s Wharf, parking across the street from Pier 39, where Vince’s new restaurant was located at the end of the pier over looking San Francisco Bay. It was a splendid early September evening, the temperature was in the low 70’s, the clouds and fog were non existent. It was an excellent welcome for our two Floridian and one Mexican beauties.

We strolled along the boardwalk of the pier gazing in the shop windows, holding hands, enjoying each other’s company. When we reached the end of the pier, off to our right, formerly the home of the Alcatraz Café, was the new home of The Wheelhouse. We entered and were coolly greeted by a young hostess.

Good evening. What time are your reservations? she asked me.

We don’t have any, I replied. We’d like a table for seven, please?

I’m sorry sir, you must have reservations to dine here, we don’t take walk ins, she said, obviously well rehearsed.

Is Jenny or Vince in? I asked, non plussed.

I’m sorry sir, like I said ...

OH MY GAWWD! yelled Jenny, dashing into the foyer, I thought I heard your voices ! AAAHHHHH! she screamed as the girls all gathered around and hugged each other. What time did you get in?" she asked.

Just on our way in now, replied Erene. Craig thought it would be a good idea to have dinner here and see you guys!

Wow I’m so glad you did, she gushed, Let me go find Vince, I’ll be right back!

At that she disappeared behind a curtain back into the kitchen,

I take it you know each other, the hostess said to me, smiling.

You might say that. I replied. Have you taken a close look at the pictures all around the room here? I pointed to the large framed pictures that lined the entire dining room that Cameron and Justin had taken of the happier moments of our trip. In between them and all around, the entire restaurant was smartly decorated nautically.

Oh my god, she said quietly studying the prints, That’s all of you, I’m sorry I didn’t realize ...

You might say we’re the reason for the theme of the place here, said Dan.

Jeez, they let anybody in here! shouted Vince as he strutted out from behind the curtain, walked over to us and began giving the girls hugs.

Good to see us all back together again, he said with a smile. I’ll take some time off here so Jen and I can join you guys. Manuel will cover for me tonight.

Phil, Jeff, Dan and I all gasped.

Crazy, huh? I hire a guy with the same name as the guy that almost killed us. Go figure. This guy’s a hell of a chef though, he’s got all the dishes down pat. Almost as good as I make ‘em, he said.

Laura, table for eight please, said Jenny, waving us on into the dining area.

We dined on several new recipes that evening that Vince had invented on our voyage. All had a South American flair of the spices and cooking methods he had found in Belize, Panama and Acapulco. Fresh plantains and yucca were flown in daily as well as an assortment of seafood, not found here locally. He was even importing lamb from Nicaragua. Me, I stuck to my favorite, which he had aptly named Kaz’s Steamers. A full bucket of the most savory steamed clams you could ever hope to find.

The dinner lasted almost three hours. The girls had a lot of catching up to do, us guys being our usual selves were able to pass the time quite easily with our usual B.S.

So when are you ladies moving here? Vince asked Erene.

As soon as we get the new office taken care of and we find a place to stay,

Okay, so, what a couple weeks? Then when are you going back to get the boat? asked Vince looking over at me.

"Well, when Lucius calls me with he and Lily’s date for their wedding we’ll work it in then, I guess. Are you going to be able to make it?’ I asked.

That’s not even a question, he replied. Even if we have to close all the restaurants, Jenny and I will be there!

Good, that will make them happy. We’re all the family he has, you know, I said.

What about Lily? asked Erene.

All I know is that she’s from Jamaica. If she has any, I would hope they’d come, I answered.

Well gang, I think we need to head home and get some rest. It’s been a long day today, said Mary.

I’m right behind you said Veronica. That plane ride took forever.

Party Poopers! exclaimed Erene.

We rose from our seats and said our goodnights, then headed out the door to the now quiet boardwalk of Pier 39. Most of the shops were closed and the crowds had dwindled to a few stragglers window shopping. We loaded back into the van and drove out of the Marina District of San Francisco, back across the Golden Gate Bridge taking the downtown Sausalito exit to Johnson Street where I parked the van in Tony’s space and together we walked down the dock to the Gimmie Shelter, my fifty foot long Stephens flush deck motor yacht and the Brittany II, my close friend Tony Myrnas’ sixty two foot 1957 Chris Craft Constellation. We bade each other good night, then Erene and I, Jeff and Veronica boarded my boat while Dan and Mary climbed aboard the Brittany II. Phil feeling like a bit like the proverbial third wheel headed on over to the Cat ‘n Fiddle, our local hangout next to the entrance to the marina to have a few drinks. A short time later the quiet waters of Pelican harbor were romantically disturbed by the rhythm of the two boats, rocking gently in their berths, while Phil apparently was drowning his sorrows onshore.

2

We awoke the next morning, long after the golden sunrise had greeted Sausalito with another blessed fall day. Erene and I lay quietly in each others arms, relaxing to the gentle rhythm of the water caressing the hull of my boat.

Sleep well? she asked softly.

Like the last time we were together. Absolute peace, I answered.

Soon every night will be that way, she said as she kissed me. So what’s on the agenda for today? Are we going to look at the office building you found for us?

Yeah, first thing after breakfast. I replied.

Good, let’s get going, she said, throwing the covers back and stepping out of the bed. I watched intently as her lithe, tan, slender body with her long legs and shimmering shoulder length auburn hair glided over to the head and disappeared inside. I knew if I continued to lay there when she came back, we’d never leave the boat today ... and today, I had a huge surprise for her. Well, for all of us. I hadn’t told the guys about the house either. A fairly new floating home over on the Issaquah Dock. Three story, four bedrooms, all Japanese décor, It was really something to see. We showered and dressed, then made our way up top and got breakfast going. Soon the intoxicating aromas of bacon and sausage, taunted Jeff and Julie upstairs to join us. Jeff stepped outside across the dock and banged on the hull of the Brittany II until acknowledged by the muffled voices of Dan and Mary. As we sat down to breakfast we were shocked by Phil coming in to join us with an attractive lady in tow, and not just any lady apparently.

Good Morning I said with a smile as they walked into the salon. I hadn’t seen Phil look this happy in some time.

Gang, this here’s Tina. She’s been helping me look for a house here for the last few weeks. We bumped into each other last night at the Cat.

We all greeted her warmly and offered her a seat.

You’re in real estate? asked Erene.

Yes, fifteen years now, she replied. Been thinking about starting my own brokerage for some time.

Erene raised her eyebrows and smiled at me.

What? asked Tina.

We just moved here to open one ourselves, said Erene. Little did we know but a strong friendship had just been born at our table. Small talk ensued as we dined in the salon of my boat, although somewhat crowded for the eight of us. At least that would stop once we got the Morgan LeFay II, currently mis-painted as the Morgon Leafy II (a long story) home from San Diego. The Morgan is a custom modified sixty foot long 1963 Beck and Herd fishing trawler I’d bought in Mexico, after my dream yacht, the Morgan LeFay , a sixty five foot long Burger cockpit motor yacht, sank during a series of heavy storms we were caught in off the coast of Guatemala. I had purchased the Burger only six weeks before, in Annapolis Maryland and the guys and I were sailing her home to Sausalito. After dealing with thieves in Florida, being hijacked and almost murdered in the Caribbean near southern Mexico, It was a tremendous let down when we lost her in the storm.

I guess I should explain a few things here before the story goes much further.

I’m fifty two years old. Been single for the last two after my wife passed away three weeks after our twenty fifth anniversary. Unbeknownst to me she had a sizable life insurance policy and a healthy inheritance from her family’s estate waiting for me. So I did what most anyone would do, I retired, bought the Gimmie Shelter here in Pelican Harbor and moved over here to Sausalito to live. After sinking the boat at the dock, I cajoled Phil, Jeff, Dan, Art and Phil B. (Vince) to join me in bringing the Burger yacht back here to Pelican Harbor. We met three of our ladies at the Pirates Lair Resort in Florida one night near the beginning of the journey, one in Mexico and they’ve been with us ever since. The girls are roughly ten years younger than each of us, however nobody seems to care. Anyway, the trip was ill fated and my second boat, the Morgon Leafy II is resting quietly at the Sunrise Marina in San Diego’s Coronado Bay. I had to leave it there, as upon entry into the United States the Coast Guard informed me that my new purchase had been stolen from Florida some twenty five years before. I was also then informed they were going to hold it in impound until they straightened out the ownership issues on it, which didn’t happen for another one hundred and seventeen days. Our good friend Lucius St. Claire, who joined our crew in Galveston, Texas is living on the boat with his fiancé Lily whom we met in Belize one night at another resort, until we all head back down there for their wedding. Then the Morgon Leafy II will come home here to the harbor and berth right next to the Gimmie Shelter.

So, by the end of today I was about to own two boats and a house, uh ... and an office building. Hmm, things were getting complicated. Anyway, back in the salon we were all cozied together eating breakfast, enjoying our first morning in Sausalito.

So what time do we meet the agent? asked Veronica.

Ten o’clock, I answered, smiling. We have to make a quick stop on our way there, though.

Where at? asked Jeff.

        "A place over on Issaquah dock. A guy I know over there took pictures of the Gimmie Shelter when they were working on her and also when they put her back in the water. I need to pick them up for the insurance company. The guy’s leaving town tomorrow for three months, so I need to get them today." I said.

. I rose from my place, headed back down into the galley and washed my plate off and put it into the rack to dry.

Okay gang, I began. Lets get going, okay? We’ve got a long day ahead of us.

The others finished eating, Dan and Mary volunteered to take care of the dishes, then we disembarked the Gimmie Shelter and headed up the dock past the other yachts resting in their berths, to the Johnson street parking lot. The morning air was crisp with a hint of salt that teased at our senses. The soft, hazy blue sky enveloped the area with its golden autumn sun providing a perfect September day in Sausalito. We loaded into the Chevy van and I drove us back out North onto Bridgeway Boulevard, the main road through town, out to Waldo Point Marina to where the infamous floating homes of Sausalito were located.

We parked at the entrance and walked past the collection of water bound homes, some sedate in their décor, some quite eccentric. One even had an actual Pullman train car jutting out from its side. We made our way to the end of the dock and found ourselves standing in front of a two and half story floating Japanese style architectural marvel. Painted white with traditional red and black trim, sporting miniature potted blooming cherry trees at the entrance, it was truly a sight to behold.

Pheeww! whistled Phil. Some house. Can you imagine living here?

        Yeah, I think I can, I smiled, as I grabbed the ornate brass knocker and rapped on the door three times. The door opened and an older, well dressed petite, Japanese woman greeted us.

Hello, Mr Kazynski, Good to see you again, Please come in, she said motioning us through the doorway. I stepped aside and let the others file in ahead of me, then followed in at the rear. We were greeted into a cavernous living area, the opposing wall of all glass gave us stunning views of Sausalito harbor. The remaining walls were paneled in cherrywood with rice paper wall coverings. A combination of bamboo flooring and white tiles were accented by more cherry wood baseboards. The house was furnished in modern Japanese décor, very serene and comforting. Quiet Japanese music filtered down from upstairs.

Hello Mrs. Takada, I replied. Good to see you too.

So today is the big day at last, she said smiling at the girls. Who is the lucky lady?

The girls, as well as the guys looked thoroughly confused.

Her, I said pointing at my beautiful fiancé. Even in jeans and a simple black silk blouse, she was stunning.

I ... I don’t get it, said Erene, looking confused. What’s up babe?

I couldn’t repress a cheshire cat grin any longer. There are no pictures to pick up ... I bought this for us two weeks ago, I couldn’t expect you to live on a boat, now could I? Welcome home!

Erene’s jaw dropped as far as humanly possible. For that matter of fact, so did all the others.

Are you shitting me? exclaimed Jeff.

Wow! was all Dan could say looking around him.

Ohhh myyy God !!! Erene finally exclaimed, looking all around her.

Well, you ladies are going to need a place to live until we all get settled and as I just said, we can’t exactly expect you to live on the boats with us. Actually, I have offers on three other homes here too,

For ... began Phil.

Well for all you guys, of course ... if you want them, I mean. I’m not going to force anything on anybody here.

Well, there goes my commission, laughed Tina.

Erene pulled me aside from our group.

How can you afford this? she asked.

I wanted to wait until was I sure about us, but I have money. An inheritance from my deceased wife’s estate. I don’t like to talk about it, I said kissing her on the tip of her nose. Now, please make me happy and go enjoy this.

She smiled at me, kissed me on the mouth and we turned back to the group.

Un-fricking believable, said Jeff, shaking his head slowly. Veronica quickly elbowed him the stomach,

Hon, watch your mouth! she said nodding at Mrs. Takada.

Believe it or not, I hear much more than that when the floating home tours are on in October, she replied. You’ll learn to adjust to the crowds, Actually, it is somewhat enjoyable.

What is enjoyable? asked Veronica.

"These homes are quite an attraction in the area. Once a year for two days, the association hosts an open house, where the public is invited to come and see the homes. They charge thirty-five dollars per person and the money goes for improvements to the common areas, parking lots etc.

Last year the Home Yard and Garden Television show did a special on the more eccentric ones, like the one with the train car, I said.

I’d like to see that one, remarked Phil.

We are, I said. That’s one of the ones for sale.

I don’t believe all this, exclaimed Mary. This is way over the top!

Over the top yes, I just wanted to make sure ... I started, but was interrupted by the ring of my cell phone. Excuse me, I said, stepping over to the windows by the water. Hello?

Kaz - it’s Lucius.

Lucius, how are you, man? What’s going on my friend? I asked.

Mista Kaz, we gots problems, sir!

What kind of problems? I asked.

Eyebrows raised all around me.

          Member dat FBI agent, dat Sandusky guy?

Yeah of course Lucius, what’s going on?

He done come around here this morning. Says he be needin to talks to you. Says it’s about da other boat.

"What about