Anchors Ahoy!

By Paul Culver

The book is about the damage mother nature, category 5 hurricane, can cause and how some people are always trying to take advantage of a good or bad situation. A unique modern law enforcement organization is formed to fight for justice and humanity to keep the balances of law and order balanced. High tech vessels, futuristic communications, maritime skills in interdiction and rescue operations. The seasoned leadership of the organization is a retired Coast Guard Admiral that believes in his crews and provides them with the necessary tools to achieve and overcome the criminals that use the oceans as their means to gain ill gotten riches. The base of operations is in Florida, Fort Boca which became the landing zone for a hurricane that leveled the community but not their spirits.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9798369418994

Paul Culver

to be followed

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

T HE HURRICANE SEASON had just begun in the Caribbean Sea. Already many small storms had poured twenty-five inches or more of rain into the island nations. This was ten inches more than the normal amount predicted for the entire year. The storms seemed to hit the East Coast of Florida with such determination and frequency that the state was already asking to be declared a disaster area. This was even before the official starting date of June 1 of the hurricane season. The local state residents had even began wearing T-shirts with catchy logos, such as Speed limit on I-95 65 knots or The Sunshine State is on vacation, returning with the sun in December. Tourism was taking a beating with cancellations of hotel reservations and the cruise ships were adjusting their routes further south and to the western Caribbean to get away from the constant rain. The beaches were baron of tourist which for this time of year should have been packed. Even the college students were not taking the long-deserved break from classes in Fort Lauderdale this year. One of the local news stations, channel 7’s leading anchorperson Joan Lovett was just breaking in on the regularly scheduled soap opera for a news flash and some late breaking news. The first storm of the year was forming just off the Verde Islands, and it looks like the predicted path will take it right over Miami. Joan followed up the story with we are the first to report it to South Florida and we will keep you up dated on any changes to its path. South Florida locals didn’t even think twice about what Joan had said. They expected stories about hurricanes in the beginning of the season and knew nonnative Floridians were targeted to be educated about hurricanes and to prepare them for what could happen if a storm should hit their area. The hurricane center located at Key Biscayne were preparing for their first storm. One of the first thing they did was name the storms. Many years ago, all of the East Coast hurricanes were named after women. This was because women were somewhat unpredictable, and hurricanes fit this description to the letter. Today, however, the storms were named by a computer known as HEWIS or Hurricane Early Warning Information System. The meteorological scientists called it HEWIS just like it was one of the scientists working on predicting storms. They also thought it was funny that he was now naming storms since it was no longer accepted to name hurricanes after women. The first name it printed out was Ascension. Its target was the very wealthy community of Fort Boca Raton. Though the storm was nearly 1,700 miles away, HEWIS was predicting a direct hit at Fort Boca. Ascension was a name of an island in the Alaskan Aleutian chain. It discovered on the twenty-first of May so the captain who discovered the small island named it for a South Atlantic volcanic island he had heard stories about from his mariner shipmates. The natives called the island Dangerous Rock. The name came from a volcanic island in Southeast Asia and now the name has been given to an island in the frozen Aleutian island chain in Alaska. This rocky and isolated island meant nothing to the sun loving people of Florida. Today they just asked the question. Where do they get these crazy names anyway? Fourteen days from now, everyone will know just how dangerous and deadly this storm would be.

Fort Boca was an affluent community lying just North of Miami about forty miles as the crow flies. Boca as the locals called it was not a commercial sea port like Fort Lauderdale or Miami but was more of a haven for the mega yachts and the rich and famous people of the United States. Donald Trump, Jim Moran, and even the president of the United States Walter Quincy Smith keep their yachts moored in the secure little basin. When the prediction was released to the community about Ascension bearing down on them, the overall reaction was no reaction. Fourteen days away and after listening to the local weather personnel say "Just be ready to evacuate only when directed to do so by your emergency management officials. Everyone remembered Hurricane Andrew and how much damage it did to the Kendall and Homestead areas in 1992. This was just a storm 1,700 mile away, so why would anybody get nervous or even prepare for this storm.

Fort Boca was also the homeport of an unknown government law enforcement group. Its corporate name was the LEG Corporation. They employed about fifty technical workers who produced electronic parts for the government or for anybody that requested such electronic technical specialty equipment. They even developed systems to run these very costly items. The LEG facility was located at a waterfront complex that rented dock space to yachts. This provided a good revenue that paid for their facilities’ operating costs. It also gave the facility a legitimacy of belonging to the community since the LEG Corporation had the most of prime property in the basin. It was purchased from the Coast Guard when they closed the old rescue station and moved their small boat station to a new location in Fort Lauderdale. The director was Adm. John Hatfield, USCG (Ret.). He handpicked most of the LEG team members from many of the different law enforcement agencies throughout the world. The admiral was not a politically correct type but was the man the government called to get any job done! His career started during the last days of World War II as a new ensign in the US Coast Guard. He was first stationed on a small wooden patrol boat in the Aleutian Island of Adak in Alaska. The admiral still talks about this first tour and how he was sailing around in a wooden vessel in monstrous seas that towered over the little patrol boat almost every day. The admiral came from a seafaring family. He grew up in the Pacific Northwest in Everett, a small fishing village. It was in Everett that he lived and played on every type of boat that you could imagine. Alaskan trawlers, tug boats, small sailing boats, state ferry boats, and even the rescue boats at the local Coast Guard station. It was at the Coast Guard station in Everett that he decided on what his future career would be. As a small boy, the Coasties more or less adopted him. He went out with them on their forty-foot utility boats while conducting drills. Chief Rocky Rock Smith, the officer in charge, took such a liken to John that he arranged for him to go on patrols with one of the eighty-three-foot patrol boats, the Point Barnes. It was a wooden patrol boat that interdicted vessels smuggling contraband into the States from Canada. Admiral Hatfield’s desire to defend the United States laws and treaties started with that first patrol when they arrested and seized a Mexican-flagged coastal freighter sneaking illegal liqueur from Canada. Master Chief Burk, who was the officer in charge, sat John up in the helmsman chair so he could see everything that was going on. John could not believe his eyes how the Coasties boarded the broken-down freighter like cats even in the six- to eight-foot seas. He knew he wanted to be part of this action and even more important than that was he wanted to lead a crew just like those on Point Barnes. John applied to the Coast Guard’s Officer Academy in New London Connecticut and was accepted in 1946. Ensign Hatfield became known to his academy class as the Patrol Boat Commander because he requested any patrol boat in the service so he could start his career training on being in charge of one of those little boats. This was not because of his ego but for his ability to lead a crew beyond their normal limits and his love for the ocean. If he only knew that they still had wooden ones in the service, he might not have been so pushy to get on one. Those patrol boats did anything that was asked of them and brought many a disabled fisherman home from the icy cold waters of Alaska. That was John’s first assignment, the USCGC Point Ascension homeported in Adak Alaska. Adak is located in the Aleutian Islands of Alaska and was named by the local Indian tribes. It was one of the isolated islands in the Aleutian island chain that the military had established as an outpost. It also was home to the crab fishing industry, so the Coast Guard stationed one of their eighty-three-foot patrol boats there to serve as the fisheries law enforcement element and the lifesaving search and rescue vessel.

John demanded 150 percent from his men. Most sailors would ask to be transferred away from the hard work and the dangerous missions, but once they knew the Patrol Boat Commander was in charge, sailors would beg to be stationed aboard his unit. The mystique of the sailors had to sail aboard his patrol boat was amazing. Sailors would request to be stationed aboard the Point Ascension just for the opportunity to be with the admiral. Little did John know that his first duty station, the Point Ascension was going to revisit him not as a patrol boat but as a deadly hurricane. As the director of LEG, Ascension would test his forty plus years of experience at sea and his command and control abilities.

Today John is the same as he was when he was an ensign, except his hair has turned a bit grey around the edges. He has aged very little in appearance. His steel green eyes still sparkle like the sea, and his infectious smile instantly makes you feel like he is family when you meet him. He has had over twenty-five commands during his career in the Coast Guard. The newly forming Hurricane Ascension would call upon all his knowledge and leadership skills to safely protect his group from the coming destruction of Fort Boca Raton’s community and exclusive yacht basin. As John sat in his chair and reflected his Coast Guard career and the relationship between his first command stationed at the hazardous remote island of Ascension in Alaska, Hurricane Ascension was starting its long and dangerous journey toward his facility.

John’s secure computer lit up, which brought him back to the present. The computer opened a secure link from the White House situation room automatically. In today’s world of passwords, the technicians always insisted that any password be at least fifteen characters long, that included symbols, uppercase and lowercase letters, and of course, nonsequential numbers. John just said Balsam and the screen came to life and began the unseen secure linking necessary for the incoming message from the White House situation room. The message simply stated that LEG was to continue their mission of interdiction of illegal contraband and to be alert to violators using the storm as cover. This was the part of the corporation that very few people knew about. The message would be transmitted to their operatives around the world and put them on high alert. The other side of the corporation known to the public would be clearly on display, as John had always planned on the unexpected and a hurricane coming ashore in his home port was no different. He gathered his staff and instructed them to follow the hurricane plan as practiced and everything would be OK. The admiral’s two most prized possessions, the Anchors Ahoy and Sailfish Girl were readied for sea and would depart long before Ascension would strike Fort Boca.

The admiral was well known about the Fort Boca Raton’s boat basin as the old sailor who would help any boater or neighbor that asked for his help. He rented dock space to many large and luxurious yachts year around. This is how he supplemented the LEG Corporation’s coffers in addition to the electronics manufacturing business. The town’s population assumed this was how LEG made their money or so the folks of Fort Boca thought. The real classified story was that LEG was a highly trained government law enforcement group, highly classified and protected from the wondering eyes of the public and even congress. That is why when the two large yachts that tied up at the LEG docks departed the snug little harbor nobody took notice of them. If the local residents even knew about their mission, they would not have believed it.

Capt. Maurice C. Connelly was the senior captain and in charge of marine operations. He officially retired from the Coast Guard as a master chief law enforcement officer. MC, as he was known by the Coast Guard sailors. MC had first meet and sailed with the admiral on the medium endurance cutter (WMEC 62) in Alaska named the Balsam. The admiral was the executive officer aboard the ship, and MC was the leading law enforcement petty officer aboard the high-speed cutter. He was one of those people who could not be described without a mental image of a salty-looking sailor walking down a wharf in the rain with a duffel bag over his shoulder. He was a strong burley type, eyes that were not blue nor green but seemed to change color as you looked at them. He carried himself like he owned the world but would not hurt a soul. At six feet and two inches and about 185 pounds of muscle, MC really had no distinguishing features to speak of. This always worked in his favor in tight situations. In bar fights, he was the least likely person to ever get hit even though he finished many of them for his shipmates. It seemed that MC had another gift or sixth sense for telling which boat to board that was smuggling furs, fish, and even drugs. The admiral seemed to be very hard on MC, but the crew looked at them as two peas in the pod. MC was like the son that the admiral never had. MC stayed aboard the Balsam for just two years but had established the highest arrest and conviction record for any Coast Guard unit on the West Coast of North America.

Throughout MC’s career, the admiral followed his every transfer and advancement but did not interfere with his duty choices. Like a watchful father, the admiral knew that if he did try to help MC, it would not be liked one bit. MC loved what he did. To be at sea, he said, is like being with a woman you love, constantly around you in body and soul and reminding you that she is there to be touched and loved. If you mistreat her, she will bring hell and brimstone upon you. Hurricane Ascension would be that scorned woman for the LEG organization.

MC was stationed all over the world and assigned to many international task forces to interdict contraband. It seemed that everywhere he went, arrests and seizures went up. While assigned to an elite interdicting task force in the Far East, MC went to Hong Kong for a liberty break. He literally ran into a beautiful American girl. She was there negotiating a contract for the Boeing Aircraft Industries. Her name was Dolores M. Parker. They met in the crowded terminal while trying to get on the STAR ferry boat Shangri-La on the Kowloon side of Hong Kong. They both were running down the accommodation ladder and hit head first going through the turnstile. Barb, as her friends called her, fell back, stunned from the collision, and MC just stared at her like he had just seen an angel from above. MC immediately jumped over the turnstile and helped her get up. As their eyes meet, Barb said Whatever happened to the American gentleman? without ever realizing that she had said it. He replied, Pardon, Miss. Barb could only just stand there and with her mouth gapping wide open and speechless. She had forgot all about the ferry going to Hong Kong and her business dinner representing Boeing. MC afforded his hand to help her to her feet, and she felt a surge of emotion and electricity overcome her with his touch. MC dusted her off and then, without even thinking, asked, Let me buy you dinner for knocking you down and causing you to miss your ferry. Barb accepted dinner without hesitation, without knowing that she had accepted his invitation. She said a pay phone booth and called her Boeing contact and told her that she would not be able to make the dinner tonight and would get in touch with her tomorrow to reschedule the meeting. Barb did not even know this stranger’s name and she was rescheduling a business meeting without even knowing the outcome of today’s crash at the turnstile. She was completely disarmed by his closeness to her. She had always told her closest friends that she would never date a military man because they always were at sea or something. That evening was the beginning of her life with MC. MC would not admit it openly, but Barb became his fortress and lover forever from that moment on after their collision in the ferry terminal.

Barb was a skilled corporate lawyer and was in demand for her cunning defenses and knowledge on how to win her clients’ litigations. Internationally she had become known as the lawyer from the Wild West. Barb was only 5’4" with beautiful brown eyes and brown hair that was almost auburn. When she would pass into sunlight, her hair would change to look reddish brown to a fiery red. Barb’s figure would turn every man’s head twice as she would enter the room, and her eyes were as translucent as the deep green sea. She would not say that she used her gift of beauty to win cases, but she always enjoyed the thought that her beauty keeps her male adversaries distracted and not focused on their client’s best interest. Barb was the free spirit that took every case with the tenacity of a grizzly bear. But after meeting or running into MC, she became one with MC’s spirit while they were together and even while they were apart. You would almost think that she was just a normal everyday suburban housewife instead of one of the highest paid lawyers in the world. That’s what was so unique about their relationship. Barb being from the south should have been like a sweet southern belle. Her parents were not at all happy about her gallivanting all over the world without a gentleman to escort her properly. Barb loved her dad the most as he would advise her how she was to carry herself in this lawyer job since it was really a man’s type of business. He was protecting his little girl from those nasty foreigners and lecherous men. Barb told her father, or Pops as she would call him, about MC and how they meet. Her father did not approve of this sailor MC because of the dangerous life he led in law enforcement and that he would always leave his little girl alone unprotected while he was at sea. Barb would just smile and listen to her pops, hug him and give him a big southern kiss after he would go on and on about how this sailor was no good for his sweet little girl. Her mom was just the opposite; she knew that Barb had found the man of her dreams. It did disturb her mom about how her little girl would follow this sailor around the world at a drop of a hat. This would not be as bad if they were properly married, but since they were not, the southern family cousins and elders talked about Barb like she was a floozy. It was very interesting to hear her parents talk about MC because they would never call him by his name. Just that man or the sailor is how they would refer to him. Barb was becoming concerned a little when her mother would bring MC into any conversation more frequently every time they would talk to Barb on the phone. She felt they did not like MC as the good person he really is, and her mother was trying to dissuade Barb from being with the man she fell in love with.

Barb’s reputation in the legal world made her in demand wherever she went. When MC was relocated by the Coast Guard, she would move with him to wherever he was being transferred. She truly loved MC with all her heart and desired to marry him. MC, on the other hand, loved her as he has never loved anyone before but felt that he could not put her in harm’s way by marring her. He had many contracts placed on his head by the drug lords from around the world and he would not allow Barb to become a target. Of course, this was his thinking, and he would clam up or change the subject when the discussion of marrying came up. Barb had made plans for them together anyway. She was going to marry this wonderful guy someday and settle down in Florida where it was warm and sunny.

Today, Barb was not too sure about Florida. She had just seen the weather forecast on TV, and it looked like Fort Boca was the target of the first storm of the season. Barb knew how to prepare for the storm because MC had left instructions on what to do and where to go if they declared the apartment a danger zone from flooding. Barb followed the list and talked to Admiral Hatfield about helping her secure the windows from flying objects. John would start out saying, Call me John and I will send over some people to help you get the place secure. She loved the admiral as much as she did her own father. He would always check on her even while she was on business in some faraway place. John always told her he had a friend in the area if she needed some local help with anything. Barb thought this was rather strange that he knew someone in every city that she had business in throughout the world. During the next few days, she went about her everyday life as a lawyer from her office in the apartment. Fourteen days was a long time, and every storm during the early part of the season seemed to always turn north into the Atlantic and just caused some poor freighter a rough transit across the ocean. Barb did not know that in just over 240 hours or ten days, her world as she knew it would come very close to the end of her life.

Ascension was blowing ninety miles per hour winds even 1,200 miles away and was gaining strength every mile it crossed toward the warm Caribbean Sea. The hurricane hunters were now flying into the eye of the storm every two hours to keep abreast of its situation. The hurricane warning was issuing evacuation orders for Monroe County and the Keys just to be safe. The counties of Miami-Dade, Broward, and Palm Beach had submitted their emergency declarations of disaster to the governor of Florida so she could declare a disaster to the federal government.

Ascension’s winds were now over 150 miles per hour and expected to rise even further during the night. Ascension was now classified as a Category V hurricane, and South Florida was in for a disaster that has never before been seen in modern times. The waves were predicted to be well over twenty feet high, crashing onto the streets two blocks away from the beach. Barb was at their beachfront apartment in Fort Boca, making last minute preparations to leave, but she had to collect her client’s documents first before departing the apartment. MC had been gone for two days now and safely moored in Green Cove Springs on the St. Johns River in Northern Florida. Barb was facing exactly what her father had told her, danger, and she was left all alone to survive without MC by her side. She was not alone though; Admiral Hatfield had sent over some employees of LEG to secure the outside shutters for her. He really loved her and always wondered when MC would do the right thing and marry Barb. He was also a little selfish and would never say anything, but he loved the idea of being a grandfather for his adopted son. Barb appreciated the help and accepted the emergency phone system the admiral sent over so he could keep checking in on her.

The seas were huge and had been pounding at the seaward side of the apartments. The storm had not even gotten here yet, still eight to ten days away, and the winds and storm surge were already starting to rip apart the beautiful Fort Boca harbor. She looked out the crack in the storm shutters and saw that half of the building was gone from the waves crashing into to sea wall. Hurricane Ascension was doing a good job of destroying Fort Boca, and it was still more than 240 hours away from making a landfall. That was now starting to worry Barb and endangering her life if she did not get out of the apartment soon. The admiral sent word to MC that Barb was in good hands, and everything was all right even though he knew she was in danger. This was one of those leadership decisions that makes being in command difficult. At the same time the admiral was informing MC of the storm’s condition, Barb’s phone was ringing, thinking it was MC. Barb ran through the apartment like a school girl at her first prom.

Hello, baby.

Ahhhhh, do I have Ms. Parker?

Embarrassed but not letting her voice give that away, she said, Mr. Hanks, I thought you might be my boyfriend checking in on me during the storm.

Mr. Hanks really did not call to check in on her but to check on the negotiation papers for the big deal with By-Com’s lawyers. He was in California, so he did not even know about the hurricane.

Are the papers going to get to By-Coms lawyers by Friday with all your storm damage?

Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Hanks, I will have them delivered to them on Thursday. Barb was now tired of this conversation and told Mr. Hanks that she had to go before the wind blew the front door off the hinges. She hung up. Barb thought it was strange that Mr. Hanks wanted to close the purchase of By-Com as soon as possible. Oh well, she said to herself, I’ll get to that after I clean a spot away from the windows to sleep without getting wet from dripping ceiling tiles.

Anchors Ahoy and Sailfish Girl had left Fort Boca two days before the storm hit their homeport. Both patrol boats sailed in different directions to avoid the dangerous hurricane. MC sailed the Anchors Ahoy, his patrol boat, north to Green Cove Springs. There was an old naval base there, and one of the docks was operated by the government as a small boatyard specializing in high cost repairs to designer yachts. Roger Stately, captain of the patrol boat Sailfish Girl, sailed south to Key West and to a marina also run by this unknown government agency.

MC’s crew was a mix of former CIA, DEA, Customs, and Coast Guard personnel. Rock Gregory was MC’s second in command and had been with him throughout his twenty-six years in the Coast Guard. He was a specialist with weapons. He would handle any type or mix of weapons as if he had designed them himself. He was also very good with gathering information covertly without anyone’s knowledge. Planning an ingress or egress into an area of interest to gain tactical or operational information excited Rock so much that he could not sleep for two days before an operation. This was what he did the best. Rock did have a weakness though. He would fall in lust, or as he would say in love, with every beautiful woman in town. He was probably the sailor that got started the rumor of having a girl in every port. MC and Rock had a working relationship that bordered on supernatural. Each could sense contraband on a vessel and know the whereabouts of each other at all times. The other team members were Scotty Farr from the DEA. He met MC during a cartel sting operation in Columbia. Mike Kenny, a former CIA agent who worked the intelligence side for the crew and ran operational profiles for any of missions the group worked on. He was a good team member but always got so involved with his job that he would forget to bring his seasick medicine. Mike spent most of the first few days getting sick over the side. The other crew members designated a spot on each side of the vessel for him and installed safety clips so he could hook up and not fall over the side. Coulee Smith was an Interpol agent on loan from the United Kingdom, or UK as he would say. London being his home town where he was born but called the Bahamas home ever since the age of three. The crew called him Damn Yankee. Their perverted reasoning was named after the Coulee Dam and because he was born in England but grew up in the Bahamas, so he must be a Yankee. His specialty was satellite communications. Intercepting any radio, cellular, or satellite transmission was not just a challenge to him, but he could tell you what they were saying, where the transmitter was located, and always would tell you what they were wearing. The last thing was to give the crew something to bet on when they infiltrated as to how right he was on the style or color of dress. Coulee spoke five languages, Italian, French, Spanish, German, and English fluently. He loved to pick up girls, or as he would say birds, by pretending to be royalty from whichever country he felt like that night. The last crew member was the mechanical magician of the group. Paul Teasdale was the only native from Florida. A former marine enforcement officer with the US Customs. He could operate any boat, rebuild or build any engine or mechanical device, and do it with bailing wire and duct tape. A guy like Mr. T on an old television show. Paul always came aboard the Anchors Ahoy two or three days before sailing on a mission to check out his ride as he would say. He was very good with weapons, but he really loved hand-to-hand combat using knives. He carried two custom-made throwing knives and a bag, which he kept miscellaneous items to fix just about anything.

MC’s pride and joy was the Anchors Ahoy. He was involved with the construction, from the conception of the vessel to the actual launching of the hull. It took nearly two years to build the yacht in the bayous of New Orleans on the west side of the bank. That is how they talked about where you were when in the Mardi Gras town of New Orleans. Everything from the keel up was custom built and even the thirty-two-foot midnight express was secretly manufactured in a small boathouse next to its new mother ship. The yacht was 148.5 feet long or forty-five meters with a beam of 26.5 feet or eight meters. Inside the hull of the Anchors Ahoy housed a very interesting feature. A go-fast speed boat with retractable hydrofoils. Its top speed was in excess of sixty knots. When fueled and provisioned, the go-fast could operate away from the mother ship with a crew of four for seven days. It launched from the stern of the Anchors Ahoy while underway and was recovered the same way. The system was designed to be launched in Beaufort 9 Force wind and seas. In reality, they have launched the boat in seas with greater than Force 10 speeds. No damage was found on the boat or yacht. MC had designed a landing magnetic force field, which was used for stopping and guiding the hull into its cradle. The crew of four were strapped in seats similar to the F-117 fighter pilots. During the testing trails Coulee said, It’s like riding a bucking bull to hell and back while sitting in your recliner at home. The crew named the go-fast Got Ya! The color scheme was powder blue with a wave or curved pattern design. Besides the paint job’s unique pattern, it also had another job of absorbing radar and laser energy. The camouflage package was field tested for many years before the boat was ever built, so its job of deceiving the eye was perfected. This made the boat ninety-nine 44/100th stealthy. Powering the boat was three Black Max Mercury Outboards that produced in access of 500 horsepower each. The fuel tanks held about 1,000