DestinationPart VIThe safe was open and its insides were full of papers. My eyes were open and my insides were a mess! That last cup of Scotch and my fright, had brought up a Sour, Salty mix. You know, the kind you get just before you throw up. It coated the inside of my mouth. I wanted to know what was in the safe but I was too scared. What was inside had to be the last piece of this horrible puzzle. An answer and reason for this voyage of mystery and madness. I took a long look inside. What I could see looked like old newspapers. Finally I got enough courage to reach inside. My fingers touched a stack of news clippings, a large manila folder and an old fashioned spiral notebook. I removed them all and set them along side me on the cushion. I shuffled through the news clippings. Some of them were fragile and had turned that Orange color that old newsprint takes on. A few of the clippings were recent. Some had dates printed on the edges. Others, I could make a guess how old they were by reading some of the ads on the back. A few had cars I knew from the 50s and some had appliance ads whose prices gave me an idea of their age. One ad showed a square refrigerator with a funny "Bee Hive" thing on the top. That meant the 1930s. They hadn’t been collected because of the ads. It was obvious that they had been saved for the news items. Each clipping was a report about a sailor or a number of sailors being lost at sea. They had left on pleasure cruises or business trips. All had been passengers or crew on a wooden sailboat called the L’Espoir . Each story ended with a sentence saying that none of the persons had been seen again. No survivors, no bodies ever found. They had vanished while sailing off the Oregon coast always on the same boat. I guessed because the accidents had happened over long periods of time, no one had noticed that is was the L’Espoir . The other thing they missed was that it had always happened, at a VERY particular location. 50 miles West of Cape Blanco! The boat had been found days later drifting, not having moved from the position it last reported, There was much speculation as to why the people went missing. Nothing was ever decided. It was just reported as "An unfortunate accident, The Way of the Sea". It was No accident! It was the malevolent thing that had taken them. I knew it had, but I didn’t know why. Now that terror made me weak and ill. I was alive now but when will I be reported as one of those "Unfortunate accidents"? And WHY me? I put down the news articles and picked up the Manila folder. The top flap fell back. Inside were separators with little labels marching along the tops. Each label had handwritten words. Preliminary Drawings, Building Prints, Yard Contracts, Launching /Christening dates (guest list), Cruise Itinerary. I quickly scanned the contents of each folder. Most were what you’d expect. The original drawings and scantlings, cost and time estimates. The Itinerary folder had one handwritten note " A Fall cruise to California and Mexico". That’s all it said. The Launching section had two newspapers. The first one I pulled out was a full-page notice, a formal announcement. It read, in part, that a "Magnificent Yacht" was to be launched in Astoria Oregon. It went on… " The public is invited to attend the ceremony and launching of the newest Queen of the Seas, A luxury yacht built for the Shipping tycoon, William N. Lesha. Attending will be his wife, Ronale (of foreign birth) and their newborn son, Edward R., " The second clipping was the announcement of the launching of Mr. N. Lesha’s "Beautiful yacht". It went on to say, "What should have been a festive ceremony turned tragic when a yard worker was crushed under the keel of the vessel as it slid down the launching rails. Mr. N. Lesha, while regretting the "unfortunate accident" asked that the ceremony continue. Yard workers were overheard to say that the ship had a curse on it and they refused to help with the launch. Volunteers were called in to assist. Even with the tragic event, the launching of this vessel is one of the bright events of this year, 1930…." Astoria Yacht Builders built the L’Espoir. The Oregon company was widely known to be one of the best yards on the West coast. Scandinavian craftsmen took particular pride in building sailboats. They often treated them with more respect than given to other vessels they’d built. Sailboats were often thought of as living, breathing beings. Some boats were regarded as having Evil souls, others as Happy Protective Gods. I wondered WHICH soul those old builders had bestowed on L’Espoir ? The little spiral notebook was Mr. N. Lesha’s personal journal. As I read it I found it to be full of the most unnerving writings I’ve ever read. Page after page of angry dark and obscene thoughts. Accounts of deeds so vile it was like reading a Gothic Horror Tale. Crooked business deals, cheating fellow yachtsmen. Blackmail and destruction of the lives of many men and women. He felt no pity or remorse. Every one of his victims was in the maritime trades. Sailors were particular targets of his scorn. Every low action was done to those who lived, worked or played in the Maritime environment. Rich or poor it made no matter to him. He enjoyed the pain and destruction he inflicted on others I wondered why he hadn’t been discovered. Or why his actions hadn’t been stopped. His journal continued. And what I read next was the most hideous of it all. He hated his wife and son. He’d planned to rid himself or them "As soon as possible" He detailed the method he’d use to do it. He wrote…"The schedule for a Fall cruise was set. Fall would be a GOOD time to do it." He made a note that he’d had to convince his wife that she should take the cruise to the South with him. And that it would be "Excellent for the baby". He wrote that at first she’d complained. She worried about the child and how a sailing trip would affect his health. At last, he convinced her to go and to take the boy. Plans were made and the boat was loaded with provisions, water and bottles of his favorite Scotch whiskey. Leaving Seattle the first week in October was uneventful. The sail down the Washington and Oregon coast was pleasant. He had written. Then… The next passages in his book filled me with revulsion. In neat little letters in precise little words, He described in detail how he’d drugged her and the baby, HIS baby. How he’d carried the bodies up to the bow of the boat and had slipped them into the sea. He detailed how his wife had floated for a while and then sank. His description of how the baby had vanished so quickly, made me ill. His final words, and the last lines written in his little book was the entry: " October 30, 1931. 11:00 AM, Position 42º 50’ 00’’ North, 125º 42’ 00’’ West ” Now I had the answers! The answers to all the bizarre and horrible events that had happened. I was sure I had the Key of Escape. The solution to this ghastly puzzle! Here, at this position, 50 miles off the coast of Oregon, off the land mass called Cape Blanco. This WAS the DESTINATION of the sailboat L’Espoir. And why being here, it would move no further until its cargo had been discharged. It was horribly simple. Simple, when I found the story of a Sailor gone mad and murderous. One who had cheated and lied to other seaman and had finally done the most heinous of crimes in the name of Sailing. The destination of this vessel was the position where the most awful of crimes had happened. This boat, so wonderfully constructed 75 years ago, comes back to this spot to … Cleanse it’s self. It had sailed here to remove all that was Wrong from behind a tiller or wheel. It had sailed into a Gray and Dirty fog that was corruption. The remains of all sailors who’d lived their lives in darkness. A mass of lost lives without color or light. Always following, always waiting. The ashen haze kept the boat in place, until it had gathered up all those on board who were the same as them. For many years the L’Espoir had made its passage to this corner of hell, to sweep away the Wrongs. I would escape the fate of those others. Gordy who cheated, Sidney who won at any cost? I knew I was to be spared. I love the sailing world and would never do anything to damage it. I have many sins to account for in my life, but I’ve sailed a True Course in all my days. I will continue to do that. There was no reason for that evil fog to take me. My excitement grew. I climbed back into the cockpit and stepped out onto the Deck. I walked forward to the bow where the ugly foul mist remained. I could hear the sound of it. It wasn’t a sound of breathing, it was hundreds of voices whispering, " Come to us. Be us. Come to us." I felt it start to close about me, but I had no fear now. I KNEW its weakness. "Leave me, and leave this vessel! I am not you! " I shouted. The whispering stopped.. A chorus of moans sounded. It’s words now, "Follow, follow, " I ran closer to it and shouted, "Leave me. We are not you. Go away from us who love the sea" The grayness began to fall away from the boat. "Go and leave me . I will not ALLOW you to take me" The ashen colored haze became as thin as gauze and no sound came from it. Then I laughed. A big noisy sailor’s laugh. And a patch of blue sky opened above the boat. The fog had moved away. I felt the boat move! I ran to the main compass, 140º … The handheld compass, 140º It was the same on the GPS. Oh! Wonderful ! The GPS was showing Latitude numbers changing. And Longitude as well. The Fog had completely dissipated. Now sunshine flooded the cockpit and the decks. I felt the warmth. The boat was MOVING! I would survive! But then, Why would I’ve had any doubt? I ….was born on October 30th 1931 at 11:00 a.m. .. I came to take the place of the little boy lost here 75 years ago. And…After all, The sailboat’s name is…….. " L’Espoir " …… " HOPE " End….. Furl, Flake, and Trice Up ralph e. ahseln October 30, 2006 |