Wharfinger Yarns

INVASIVE
by: Ralph E. Ahseln  10/2012

Part Two…..

The Wharfinger had to give them credit, early the next morning the couple turned up and turned to. They began the onerous task of cleaning the FUJI. Soap suds and brushes flew from bowsprit to taffrail. Working constantly without so much as a break for lunch. The old man began to look on them as less Lubberly than he'd first thought. He was still nervous about the boat and where it had come from. Something just wasn't right about the whole thing.

The following morning they were back. The young fellow was lugging a power washer and the woman was pushing a dock cart piled high with coils of brand new rope. Some had spliced eyes in them ready to be rove and hoisted.

The old man nodded his approval.
"These kids are really doing it right. It looks like they're going to get that sick looking boat, all well again". A chuckle came out of the usually dour old man.

Throughout the day there was brisk activity on board. By late afternoon most of the visible mess was gone. To anyone who looked, it was a vessel as "ship shape" as could be. He decided that it was time for him to take a closer look and to give his complements to the couple for a job well done.

Walking up to the boat he called out, "Ahoy there. Ready for visitors? ".
Two smiling heads popped up from their work, answering, "Welcome aboard. "
Stepping on the deck, the old man felt uneasy. He didn't know why, but he didn't like being on that boat at all !
"Say, you two, are you sure everything here is stable and safe ? " His voice shook a little.
Her squeaky voice rang out, "Oh sure. the guy who looked at the boat before we bought her said she was Sound and Seaworthy. She just needed cleaning and some minor maintenance. No leaks and the cabin down below is neat and clean. Even though she floated around the Pacific for months, the hatches were all sealed. Everything below is like new. All OK except for some electrical gadgets that looked kinda burned and need to be replaced. "

Something told the old man that it didn't sound quite right. Why would the electronics have been damaged and nothing else? He'd have to check into that later.

The three of them sat in the cockpit exchanging ideas about replacing some rigging and upgrading several items on board. Power panels, engine controls, galley and even handles in the head, all had Japanese labels and writing. They'd have to be changed to English. Also, he found out that most of the equipment on board was out dated. The boat had been built in the 70's and all the gear had been installed then. And there WAS those electronics that had been mysteriously "burned".

During a break in their talk, the little dog he'd seen before, scampered up the companionway from below and in two leaps was in the old Wharfinger's lap.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Edwards , I mean Alf, ...Biffy-Poo is a friendly little thing. He just loves men. I'll get him off of you. BIFFY POO !" She shouted, "Come here you naughty little scamp".
As the woman pulled the dog from his lap, the old man noticed that the pup had a garish dog collar. It was bright Pink with Rhinestones spelling out "Biffy-Poo".
That Pink collar was about the most Hideous thing he'd ever seen.
He thought to himself, "She may be a good sailor, but she's Wacko over that dog"..

They all sat and talked for a few minutes more before the old man stood up and said that he had to get back to the office and finish some work he'd put off.

Very early the next morning he heard the sound of cars' screeching brakes and their doors being banged shut. He looked up to the parking lot, to the entrance to the marina and was shocked to see a large group of men and women all headed down the ramp and coming his way.

He hurried over to greet them as they descended. The Wharfinger introduced himself and asked who they were and what was happening.
A man stepped forward. Gray haired and probably the leader of the group, he came over to the old man with his hand extended.
"Good morning, Mr. Edwards. Please excuse this rather formidable group of people and our unannounced arrival at your marina. I'm sorry to say that it IS rather important that we get to our business as soon as possible".

"Well now, What business are talking about? Who are you? Who are they? and What the hell are you doing here?
So, who are you? " The old man spoke with anger in his voice.

" I beg your pardon. I guess this IS a bit overwhelming. Let me start again. I'm Robert Beta , Director of the Special Committee on Tsunami Debris Control. And these folks are investigators and lab people who are here to examine a boat that is reported to be moored here. We're looking for a 45 foot sailboat made in Japan. A FUJI, I believe".
He turned to a fellow who was holding an orange clipboard and said, "That is correct isn't it Loren, a FUJI ? ". The "clipboard" man answered with a nod.
The Director looked at the old man and asked, "Do you know of such a boat? "

"Why, yes sir. There's one over there. " He turned toward the couple's boat at the end of the slip.
"That one came in a few days ago and the owners are fixing it up now. They're on board now cleaning and polishing it real good".

The Director's face turned bright red.
He shouted to the group,
"QUICK !, get over there and stop those people. NOW ! " He pointed in the direction of the Blue hulled FUJI.
His people started running in the direction of the boat and at the same time, started unpacking the bags and boxes they had with them. What they were pulling out of the containers looked like props from a SciFi movie. Wired probes, meters and dials in small metal boxes.
Stopping at the boarding ladder, they waited, while one of the group, who had drawn a pistol, climbed aboard. The old Wharfinger watched as the man went below. Shortly he returned with the young couple, obviously scared, walking ahead of him.
Josh and Mala quickly climbed off their boat trying to avoid the rush of the technicians all trying to get on board at the same time.
The old man really felt sorry for the couple. They looked frightened half to death.
As they walked down the dock, The Director stepped in front of them and in a hushed angry voice growled, "Do you two have any idea of the trouble you've caused or the trouble you're in?"
With blanched faces, and shaking, they stood there like school kids being scolded by the Principle.

"What did we do wrong?" It was Mala speaking. The Chirp gone, replaced by a soft whimper.

"This boat was NOT to be moved from the Astoria moorage until we had inspected it fully". Came the reply.
"We didn't know that. The guy that sold the boat to us didn't say anything when we left to come here". Josh lashed out.
"We'll check into that later, but for now, You two are NOT to get close to the boat until we have finished our inspections".. The Director had calmed down a little.

The Wharfinger suggested that they all move to his office and wait out the results there.
The Director, His orange clipboard assistant, Loren and the young couple followed the old man to his ram shackled office.
Once there, the old man dumped out the coffee that had been building up for days, and filled the brew basket with newly ground. In a few minutes the percolator was steaming a delicious smell of fresh brewed java. Cups were filled for everyone.

Conversation could begin at a calmer level now and the old Wharfinger started it by asking, "What's wrong with that boat? "
He figured that a direct question would get to the point quicker.

The Director took a deep breath, gave an "Ahem" and began.
" Our research has found that the boat was owned by a wealth Japanese industrialist.
It was moored at his private dock on the East coast of Japan. By the way, the boat's name is " Houyou ".
During the tragic Tsunami Japan experienced March 2011, the boat was torn away from its moorage and began its long journey. Arriving here along the Northeastern Pacific coast a few days ago, it was detected and was inappropriately taken in tow by a salvage company who brought it to a local port. I'm going to assume that you didn't know that items that have floated away from the coast of Japan because of the Tsunami, and make their way to the American and Canadian coasts, are to be collected or detained. A thorough examination of those items must be made to determine if they contain any danger to humans, animal life or to the environment. That examination should have been done in Astoria.

Josh's face was pained as he spoke. "We didn't know."

Time past slowly for the group sitting in the office. Later, that afternoon, the man with the gun came through the door.
"Director Beta, We're almost done with the inspection. It looks like the boat is clean. No contamination was found. All the spaces have been completely gone over and there isn't anything we can see that is out of the ordinary. Only a slight elevated Radiation count, but, very far below any danger level. Only one more test to be done and that has to wait for our diver Dennis. He's been delayed but will get here soon."
"Thanks Tony. Tell the rest of the staff to pack up and get ready to leave. They've done an excellent job. " The Director sounded pleased and relieved.
"Well, it looks like you two can return to the boat now. I'll make out the final report as soon as our diver arrives to take a sample of the bottom. He should be here soon.
I'm sorry we upset you. I don't think there will be any repercussions, so the boat is yours free and clear."
"Oh, Loren, Will you stand by to take the samples our diver brings up? You can drop them off tonight at the lab. If you would be so kind."
The Director was sounding official again. His assistant mumbled conformation. The Director gathered himself and went out of the door followed by Loren, and his orange clipboard.

It was almost dark by the time the diver showed up. He peeked into the office to say that he was about to do the dive. Already in his gear, except for fins,tank and mask, he was anxious to get started. All he needed, he said, was a few samples of any growth that might be below the waterline. Those samples would be sent off to the lab. After that, and it'd only take 15 minutes, he'd be gone.
Excusing himself for being so late, he smiled and trotted off toward the boat. The old man and the couple decided to stay until he was done. They had had enough "official" business for the day.

It was over an hour before Mala, gasped and said, "Oh god, I forgot about Biffy-Poo! He's still on the boat !"
They all jumped up and ran down the dock.
It was totally dark by then and with only the dock lights dimly glowing, it was hard to see.
The couple scrambled up into the boat before the old man even got close. Out of breath, the Wharfinger stood panting at the boat step. He could hear the woman calling, "Biffy...Biffy-Poo...Where are you? Biffy, Biffy !". Both of them continued calling. Then it got quiet.
"I remember I put Biffy on his leash in the cockpit. Where is the leash?" She was crying.

The old man could just make out a length of leather hanging from a deck cleat on the boat and dangling over the side. He dug out the flashlight he had in his pocket and shined it on the strap. It was there, 5 feet long, bright Pink, with a row of Rhinestones that flashed in the light. He also saw that the end hanging down looked like it had be chewed off. Little teeth marks were all over the end of it.
"Mala !" He shouted. "I think Biffy has broken his leash and run away. Come look at this."
Both Mala and Josh jumped down to the dockside and looked at the chewed end of the Pink Leather strap.
"My gosh. He must have gotten frightened with all those strangers on board and managed to break away". "Josh, Do you think he'll come back? "
"I don't know, Mala. I don't know what to do".
The Wharfinger spoke up and suggested that they should stay on board this night. Biffy might head back looking for his masters. His and their scents would be strong all over the place around the boat.
The idea was a good one and the couple agreed. Mala set out a plate of dog food and some water on the dock. "Biffy-Poo will be hungry and thirsty". She wept.
The old man wished them good night and said that he "Just knew" the dog would be back in the morning.
He stood by the boat for a few minutes thinking about all the crazy things that had gone on. He shook his head. Nothing like THIS had ever happened to him before. He wished it to be over soon.

It was very dark by then and as he started to walk away, he tripped over something on the dock. focusing his flashlight down, he saw a Swim Flipper. A single flipper just lying there.
"I bet it was so dark the diver missed seeing it when he removed it and decided to come back later to retrieve it." The old Wharfinger smiled to himself.
"Darned government folks anyway. They ain't always smart".. He chuckled. Picking the flipper up he started to walk away, but he almost fell because his foot was now tangled in something on the dock.
"Damn it", He spit out, "Those kids left some of that crappy old rope laying about on the dock. Someone could get hurt".

He clicked on the flashlight again.
Wrapped round his ankle was a reddish brown strand of something about an inch thick. He could see that it was hanging in the water alongside the boat and stretched out on the dock. It seemed to be attached to the boat.
As he watched it in the glare of the flashlight, it sort of "untangled" from around his ankle and fell back into the water.
" Kelp, Damned Kelp! That's what that slimy stuff was. KELP! ".. He laughed at himself for being so stupid.

He took only a few steps when, suddenly... it came to him !
"Can't be Kelp ! Kelp grows from the sea bottom. Like on rocks and sand. It doesn't hang on a boat".

"I think I better call that Director guy about this, first thing in the morning."
The old man hurried his pace a bit as he walked back toward his office.
Behind him , there was the sound of water splashing.

To be continued...


Part 1

Part 3