DestinationPart VSome of the answers were in Gordy’s journal. Many were not. At first, his comments were easy to read. They told of the strange phone call that resulted in his being hired to deliver L'Espoir to San Diego. Strange, he said, because the person must have had a breathing problem. It sounded like he was on his last leg, Gordy had written The delivery fee had been agreed on without discussion. Gordy said that he’d asked double the normal amount. He made a note that "It was like taking candy from a baby". I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Gordy had cheated the owner! Gordy, that good natured, good guy, was a crook. He continued bragging. He wrote about lying to his crew. He’d told us a story about how "Little" he charged for the trip. Sid and I, at Gordy’s request, agreed we would take less than he’d promised. He was ripping us off TOO! What a Son of a Bitch, I thought to myself. Later entries talked about a chat he’d had with Sidney. He’d got her drunk one night. They started talking about Sid’s racing days. How she won all the important races she’d ever been in. Races that got her "Skipper of the Year" awards for 3 years straight. The journal said she’d told him that she cheated on every race she’d won. She even faked crying to get sympathy, at one challenge hearing. Sidney told him about using her engine, during one big race, after the wind had dropped to near nothing. Sidney was a fake. The worst kind of sailor, a liar and a cheat. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Gordy wrote that he’d tried to find some skeletons in my closet, but " Hadn’t found any. Yet!" He complained that he needed to find something on me because He wanted to blackmail BOTH of us as soon as we got to San Diego. With his damning stories, he would tell our friends or broadcast it on email lists. He figured we’d give him our delivery fee just to keep quiet. Damn him! DAMN him! From that point on, the journal seemed to change. I could tell his writing was getting "Strained" and that fear was starting to catch hold of him. He talked about how the L'Espoir was beginning to "Act Funny". And that, once, he'd tried to correct our course but the boat had refused to be turned. How the GPS wasn’t reading correctly. And that the compasses were "getting screwy". His most panicked line was that a "Weird fog" had sprung up. He thought it was following us. As the writing became less steady and the words began to be Jumbled, It seemed he was loosing the ability to put a complete sentence together. There was this one line in particular. A Scrawl that said… " Fog, dirty gray people talk …. Bad I not … All wrong ". Gordy was loosing it. I didn’t know why. There was another odd sentence that rambled on that was hard to read, Impossible to understand. Things like " I scare" " paper story" " man baby" " number combination ". And a lot more I couldn’t make much sense of. The last entry was very hard to read. It took a long time trying to figure it out. Finally, I could read it. What he had written was also the last thing he’d said to me… " It’s all wrong, it’s all wrong" Wrong? Yes, I had seen that the compasses were reading wrong. Was THAT what he meant? No, it couldn’t have been. He was too scared. A malfunctioning compass wouldn’t have shaken him as badly as he was. It HAD to be something else. I grabbed the "Always full" bottle of Scotch from the locker, poured myself another cup. The cup fell from my hand! I KNEW, NOW, I KNEW! Everything was "WRONG". The compasses, the GPS, Gordy disappearing, Sidney’s songs. The fuel tanks, the water tanks, And EVEN the damned booze! EVERYTHING WAS GOING BACKWARDS! The tanks were filling instead of empting, the Scotch bottle was always getting full. Lyrics were sung backwards. OK, What the hell does this ALL mean? Going backwards to What? Where? At that moment Gordy’s journal caught my attention. The book had opened to one of the last pages. The one that had all the gibberish. One word burned into my eyes… "COMBINATION" It must mean something about a lock. Then I remembered. There was an old Safe with a combination lock up in the V berth. No one knew the combination so it was left alone and forgotten. Damn! Gordy MUST have known the numbers. He must have opened the safe sometime earlier. Maybe before Sidney and I got on board. He must have read something that gives meaning to all this. Why would he have written " number combination" in his journal if it wasn’t important? I ran to the forward cabin, found the safe. It looked like it had been there since the first day the boat was built. It was an odd little box. It was painted all over to look like an old navigation chart. You know, with posit lines, soundings, Nav aids and all that. It was faded pretty badly but I could still make out what chart it was. My God! I looked again. It was centered on 42º 50 N. , 125º 42 W. ! Exactly where we’ve been for nearly two weeks. I damned near fainted. It took a second to clear my head then I looked carefully. The combination dial was the COMPASS ROSE on the chart with a crown at the North Up position. The outer dial had Cardinal Points as well as marks for all 360 degrees. Like a crystal bullet, it went through me! Those WERE the numbers! The four headings seen on all the compasses! The combination has to be those odd compass headings! I had to check them again. All were reading as before. The binnacle showed 053º. The Puck, 235º. The GPS, 352º and last, the Track was at 140º I had the combination! 53, 235, 352 and 140! But in what order? What was the order of numbers in the combination? Think! Think! All the compasses read wrong except one. The "Bread Crumb" Track being laid down by the GPS was the only reading that had been correct. That HAD to be the first number. Everything is backwards so the numbers have to go Counterclockwise from 140 degrees. It sort of made sense, because, it made NO sense. It just had to be. Then it’s… 140, 53, 352 and finally 235! I twirled the compass rose dial a couple of times and then set it on 140, right to 53, left to 352 and then right to 235. I pulled the handle.. Nothing happened. It was still locked tight. What did I do wrong? I went Backwards just like everything else on the........... WAIT! Backwards could mean Reverse…. OR….. RECIPROCAL! I had to figure the Reciprocals of the compass headings. I cussed myself for being damned so stupid. That was it. Let’s see. Take 140 plus 180, the reciprocal is 320. I felt a huge rush of success. Then there was 053 plus 180, 233. …Then, 235? ...Oh yea, subtract 180 when the number is over 180...that made it 55. And finally 352 minus 180, …172.. OK, now the sequence of numbers is 320, 233, 172 then 55. I spun the dial. Set it on 320 then to the Right, Left, Right. Nothing happened… My heart sank. Oh crap, I’d forgotten it again, BACKWARDS! Backwards you idiot! Set at 320 then COUNTERCLOCKWISE.. 233 , Right 172, Left 55 ……. CLICK! The safe was open. Conclusion --- October 30, 2006 |