Winds of Change - Cover

Winds of Change

Copyright© 2011 by R. Michael Lowe aka The Scot

Chapter 13

With things back to normal, Grant returned to the cabin and lay on the bed. He sought that inner place of peace, but he didn’t fall back to sleep. Instead, his mind focused on those things he had expressed to Jerry, expanding his understanding and strengthening his underlying character.

As the night continued Grant’s mind slowly shifted to other important issues that would become problems in the future. Much of women’s issues, he lumped in with slavery, as both groups were treated as property. Gun control just needed to be better defined and room made for reasonable exceptions and the ability to require licensing of automatic weapons and such. Religion was important, because extremism on the part of any group was dangerous, and one of his first thoughts in the area came from the song, One Tin Soldier - ‘Do it in the name of heaven and you can justify it in the end’. A frightening song that was much more prophetic than most could have imagined. Balancing the conflict between property rights and personal freedom with the need to protect the environment and the world for future generations was another daunting task. There were military issues, trade issues, corruption and abuses of power by officials at every level, freedom of the press without the ability to ruin people’s lives with unsubstantiated accusations and innuendos. Unreasonable disparity in compensation, the oppression of the poor and his mental list kept getting bigger and bigger.

In the meantime the Stiletto was rapidly moving across the southern coast of North Carolina. Several ships had shown up on radar, but they were all a few miles from the shore, while Mike was taking the most direct path to their next landmark, Cape Lookout. The cape was the southern tip of the string of barrier islands that were known as the outer banks and its radar signature would stand out like a flashing sign in Vegas. The charts had shown there were several entrances to the inner waters leading to New Bern, but there were numerous land obstacles that would make their trip even longer, and without current charts it would be quite easy to find yourself in trouble. This area was not called the graveyard of ships without good reason.

Thirty miles south of the cape, Jerry noted that only one ship was in the area, and it was several miles east of the cape. He glanced at the chart and decided that the ship was sitting outside Buford Inlet, waiting for morning’s first light. He reviewed their current course and had Mike shift a little further to the east. At their current rate, they should be off Ocracoke Inlet around 01:40.

In his review of their status, Jerry was surprised how much fuel they had remaining. If the gauge was correct, their estimation of fuel needs was greatly exaggerated. Of course, they still had a ways to go and they had used the electric motors part of the trip, but that was more for stealth purposes than conservation of fuel. If this rate held they might not use any of the extra fuel they had in that bladder on the aft deck.

At 01:20 Ocracoke Inlet was thirty miles directly to their west and Jerry decided it was time to get the Skipper. When he entered the cabin he could tell the original three were still sound asleep, but Grant was laying on his back staring at the ceiling. Grant sensed Jerry’s presence and turned toward him with a questioning look.

“It’s time,” Jerry whispered.

Grant got up, peed, washed his face and moved to the control room.

“Status, Boats?” Grant asked as soon as he was inside.

“It’s 01:30 and we’re now holding twelve miles off the south end of Ocracoke Island. There’s a strong thunderstorm moving this way about thirty miles east of us. We’re in seventy feet of water and nothing is showing up around us. Also, there are no lights showing around the inlet. According to Jerry’s estimated tide table, the tide has been ebbing for more than an hour, but we think the approaching storm is holding the water inside the sound. It may get a bit rough in the actual inlet, but we should be able to navigate our way through it.”

“Good report. Jerry, can we get to the central area of Pamlico sound before the storm hits?”

“I don’t see a problem getting through the Inlet before it hits, but I’m not sure how far we can get into the sound. According to the charts we don’t go very far into the sound before we head for the mouth of the Neuse River. If the storm lasts for a while we can probably take you all the way to New Bern before dawn.”

“Suggestions?” asked Grant.

Cal said, “Skipper, I say we ignore stealth, get you to town in the storm and then go stealthy and hide.”

“I agree,” said Mike. “The diesels give us more power and maneuverability and the wind and rain should mask the noise.”

“I concur,” answered Jerry, “but I’d suggest we release the fuel bladder and tether it behind us. Reducing our weight by that much will give us at least six inches less draft.”

Grant responded, “I agree with everything you’ve proposed, so make it happen.”

Grant took over the controls long enough for his three main people to exit out the top and attach three, inch thick ropes to the fuel bladder’s heavy metal frame. The bladder was then released and was soon floating twenty yards aft of the boat. The top cover for the bladder was brought inside by the men and the hatches were all locked tight.

Mike resumed control and Cal joined Jerry in watching the screens. After reviewing where he could best assist the boat, he also joined Jerry.

“How should we do this?” asked Cal.

Jerry answered, “Skipper, can you monitor the weather and keep an eye on the display from outside. I can monitor the radar, while Cal handles the sonar.”

“Sure,” answered Grant. “I think that’s a good way to divide the work and let each focus on one of the primary areas.”

“Is everyone ready?” asked Mike.

“Under control, Boats, take us in,” answered Grant.

The Stiletto moved forward, staying on the Ocracoke side of the Inlet.

The wind had picked up to thirty knots and was coming from almost dead astern. Grant advised Mike of this information and warned him of the effect of turning to either side. That didn’t mean he couldn’t turn, but to remind him that the wind would continue to push the center of the boat in the current direction while the bow was trying to turn in the new direction. This sideways motion could drive them into a sand bar or other obstacle if care was not observed. One solution would be to increase the speed of the boat when such a maneuver was necessary.

“Radar shows land mass two point one miles off starboard beam,” announced Cal.

“Jerry, can you transfer sonar data to my monitor?”

“Current, or forward?”

“Both. I need forward and sides out thirty feet. I’m reducing speed to eight knots, and I’ll still need warnings of problems further than thirty feet, but calling out the close information is not giving me time to react.”

“Rain is zero two minutes away, and it’s a real frog drowner,” relayed Cal.

Grant looked up at the monitor, and saw the wall of rain quickly overtaking them. The lightning was so intense; it reminded him of the hurricane. He sure hoped they weren’t being returned to 2010 without their families.

“We’re through the Inlet,” announced Jerry. “There’s a sizable sandbar about sixty feet off the port bow. It looks like moving starboard will allow us to slide by, as there seems to be a channel there caused by the current.”

“I’m picking up the sandbar and channel; reducing speed to five knots.”

Jerry announced, “Depth increasing to sixteen feet, twenty feet, twenty-two feet. I think we’re in the sound.”

Grant returned to the chart, and said, “Boats, set course to two seven zero until we enter the Neuse River.”

“Aye aye, Skipper”

Grant rechecked the weather and noticed that the wind was down to twenty two. He made a three sixty turn with the TV camera and saw a large object forming about forty yards off the point of the bow.

Jerry must have seen it also, as both men screamed, “Emergency Stop!”

Mike immediately threw the throttle levers into reverse, and the attempt to stop the boat caused the diesels to churn a lot of water and mud. When he brought the controls back to neutral, the Stiletto gently touched the object that caused the emergency action. Grant scanned with the camera and saw several people struggling in the water. The storm was gone and the stars were out.

“Exterior lights on, he shouted. Everyone on top to help with the rescue, and Mike, get me an M4 and a couple of magazines.”

Trey and the two Marion brothers came out of the crew quarters, still rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

“What happened?” asked Trey. “We suddenly woke up and found ourselves on the floor.”

“We’re not sure, yet, but we had to do an emergency stop. There’s a vessel in front of us, and several people are in the water.”

Mike, Gerry and Cal led the way through the roof hatch, with Grant and the rest quickly following. Life preservers were being thrown by both ships and a young woman got hit in the head by two at the same time. Seconds later, Cal dove off the side and reached the woman just as she was sliding beneath the waves.

“I hope you have an explanation for this,” a man shouted from the other boat. “Don’t you know that sailboats have the right of way?”

“I’ll discuss this when everyone is safely out of the water,” answered Grant.

“We’ll discuss it when I say we’ll discuss it,” answered the man on the other boat. “You came out of nowhere and hit us hard enough to knock nine people overboard.”

“I came out of nowhere, because that’s where you were ... nowhere.”

“Preposterous. How could we’ve been nowhere?”

“Tell me where you think you are, as well as the time and date.”

“That’s easy. We’re in the Chesapeake Bay at fifteen ten on July three two thousand eleven.”

“If it’s fifteen ten, then where’s the sun? Those are stars out there. In actuality, it’s zero two twenty, October sixteen, seventeen sixty-one, and you’re in the middle of Pamlico Sound. We were fighting through Ocracoke Inlet in the middle of a thunderstorm when you appeared a few yards in front of us. The shock you felt was being slapped back into the water, as we barely touched you. Let me introduce myself, I’m Doctor Maxwell Grant, Lt. Commander, US Navy Reserve.”

“From the Santee project that disappeared last year in that Hurricane?”

“Yes, but how would you know about the Santee project?”

“Captain Maxwell, I’m Vice Admiral Victor Gains, and I’m well aware of your work. How many of your group survived?”

“Where did the Captain come from? As for my group, all that were on site came through safely.”

“Your promotion was awarded prior to your memorial service, and I’m happy that everyone survived.”

“Then Admiral, I relinquish my command to your superior rank.”

“Don’t be hasty Captain; let’s review what is going on before we make a decision like that. After all, I don’t think the Navy, as we knew it, applies anymore.”

“Then follow us to a safe harbor, and we can have a time of meeting and greeting. We’ve one uptimer and two downtimers who’ve had some rest, but most of us have been going for more than twenty hours, so please take that into account.”

“Uptimer? Downtimer? Oh, I get it. Good way to describe it.

Grant stood exposed at the top of the Stiletto, as Mike and crew began to move away from what Grant now realized was a nicely decked out topmast schooner.

“Where do you want me to head, Skipper?” asked Mike.

“The inlet marked Oriental that I pointed to earlier.”

Gabe and Isaac climbed up and joined Grant.

“From what we could follow, it sounds like we’ve some additional uptimers.”

“We do, and they left the future after we did.”

“The one you talked to said he was an Admiral. Do you think he will try to take over?”

“Gabe, he might, but from the sound of his voice at the end, I don’t think so. Besides, our mandate was given to us by whoever had the power to send both groups here, and I have to believe that they would’ve chosen people who would work with us.”

“That does make sense, and every uptimer that comes with similar vision only helps make our chances better.”

“I’m impressed Isaac. That was a wise observation.”

“Thank you. Are we getting close?”

“New Bern is about twenty-five miles upriver from us. I don’t know if we’re going to push on tonight or not. False dawn is only about two hours away, so I doubt it.” Besides, the two of you and Trey are the only ones who have had some sleep.”

“Why don’t you go below and rest?” asked Gabe. “I have a feeling that tomorrow will be another trying day.”

“I tried a while ago, but all I could do was to stare at the ceiling. My mind was too active to relax, and that was before our guests arrived. If things were uncertain before, they’re now in complete turmoil.”

“Why would that be?”

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