Then she gave Phil a big ear-to-ear grin. “Well, Captain,” she queried, “do you approve?”
“You probably did better than I would have done. I should have known better than to say anything. You know, Jana, you have all the flight time and experience you need to get your commercial ticket. All you need to do is take the written exam. You shouldn’t have any trouble with that or the check ride. Then maybe you could take some of the load off of all of us old guys. You could take a few charters yourself instead of just booking them. I’m sure most of our clients would be delighted to have such a gorgeous young lady at the controls.”
“I’d like that, Phil. Then we can compare stories by the fireplace at night.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He grinned. “I can think of much better things to do on a cold winter night.”
“Or any other night, or morning, or afternoon. Don’t you realize we’ve been married for nine years? Aren’t we supposed to slow down on that kind of stuff? Besides, if you keep talking like that, I may have to climb to five thousand and two hundred feet and welcome you to the mile-high club.”
Phil couldn’t let that one pass. “Don’t look at me when you say that. You can’t slow down any more than I can. What will you do while we’re apart for two weeks?”
By then, they were past Kankakee, pointed to Danville and then on to Terre Haute. It was only 11:00 a.m. They still have most of the day ahead of them. Phil had thought it out and decided to stay the night with Fritz. He will leave early Saturday morning, fly back to Meadowwood, then jump in his car, and start off for the Bruce Peninsula.
IV
It is early morning in Lakewood, Ohio, where Hans West is sitting alone on the outdoor balcony of his lakeside condo. Mid-October would not seem to be the time to sit outside on the fifteenth floor with a brisk breeze blowing in off Lake Erie. Most folks would be sealed inside, but Hans is not like most folks. He has become quite accustomed to much worse conditions during his years at sea.
As he sits there, many thoughts are running through his brain. He wants to consider the next few days and beyond. Since this will be his last trip on the inland seas, it holds special significance for him. It is extremely important that all should go by the book on this final journey. He feels like a mother hen watching and waiting over her eggs. As captain of the William R. Jammison, he is responsible for the safety of more than just his ship. He is also thinking about his loyal crew of twenty-nine, some of whom have been with him since before his promotion to the top post. The first one who comes into his mind is Fred Palmer, his first mate. Together, they have tussled with all the lakes could throw at them and still came back for more. Then there is George Oliver, the chief engineer. He has pulled a few tricks out of his hat to keep the old Sulzer diesel operating in some of the worst storms in recent times. George actually hired on the Jammison before Hans was third mate. Sam Whitman is also one of Hans’s favorite people. As chief cook, he has the ominous task of satisfying the stomachs of a bunch of hardworking people, sometimes under conditions no shore bound chef would tolerate.
As he sits contemplating what lies ahead for them all, he takes a mental inventory of the entire crew. He thinks about the engine room group, usually referred to as “The Black Gang,” all of the men who take their orders from George. He has six lower engineers, three wipers, and three oilers under his command. The deck company consists of three wheelmen, three watchers, and three deckhands. They all do each other’s work when needed, even the mates. Sam has help in the galley as well, two second cooks and two porters. Hans has made it a point to get to know them all without losing his image of authority. That can be difficult because some of the shipboard tasks may be handled by an ever-changing parade of applicants. They sometimes think that work on a ship this big will be a piece of cake. After all, it’s just a group of lakes. Many a new hire has been brought to his knees on his first voyage. Aside from combating the elements, they find that working on a Laker can be very labor intensive.
Right now, the 730-foot straight deck bulk carrier is at the Cleveland and Pittsburgh ore dock, awaiting an early Saturday morning departure. She has been in port for two days due to a steering gear malfunction encountered on the previous run, an unwanted development. The main goal of all bulk carriers is to stay in action as long as the season will permit. This present situation will cause some loss of revenue for them all.
The Jammison will be leaving the harbor light (empty). The itinerary will be typical. First stop will be at the Chesapeake and Ohio dock in Toledo to fill the hold with coal. From there, it will be a short jaunt to the Detroit River, then across Lake St. Clair, up the St. Clair River and out onto Lake Huron at Sarnia. After the long trek up Lake Huron, they will enter Lake Michigan, passing through the Straits of Mackinac and proceeding to the Reiss coal and limestone dock in Little Bay de Noc at Escanaba on the southern shore of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. After offloading the coal and cleaning the holds, they will travel less than a mile to the Escanaba ore facility to reload, this time with taconite pellets to be brought back to the mills in Cleveland. Barring complications the entire voyage should be completed in less than five days, getting the Jammison back to home port sometime on the twenty-third. Upon returning, Hans will bid a fond farewell to his crew and his ship and go ashore and to become just another landlubber.
Since the season is not quite concluded, someone else will assume command until about mid-December. That person will probably be Fred Palmer, his first mate, who has been waiting, not always patiently, for the opportunity.
So far the weather reports are all good for the next few days.
There should be no obstacle to an easy trip, but then nothing is ever for sure. Those waters can be totally unpredictable.
While Hans is lost in his thoughts, he is completely unaware that he has been joined by his wife, Miep, who is looking somewhat unsettled but still beautiful. It would be a gross understatement to say that she is attractive. With her long flaming red hair and emerald eyes, she is, indeed, a picture to behold. In spite of the fact that she is nearly a foot shorter than Hans, she fits him like a deerskin glove. She is wearing a silk robe that enhances her far-better-than-average form. Hans always calls her Schaatje, which means “little treasure.” She is definitely worthy of the title.
“I know you think you’re a polar bear, Hans, but I’m not. Why don’t you come inside where it’s warm? Breakfast is ready. I don’t want it to get cold too.”
“I apologize,” said Hans. “I was just thinking about all the good times I’ve had at sea and wondering if I’m doing the right thing by quitting while I’m still so young. I’m only forty-one. I must have a lot of good years left in me.”
“And I want those good years to be spent at home with me. We’ve made our plans. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us to change them now.”
“I don’t want to change anything. I guess I’m just getting a bit sentimental. I want to spend my time with you at our new home as much as you want me to. It’ll be a whole new experience for both of us. Do you realize it’s the first real property we’ve ever owned? It’s nice here on the Gold Coast, very nice, but a condominium at Winton Place can’t match having our own six rooms and our own little forest to boot. It’s going to be a lot of work, but well worth the effort.”
“I’m really looking forward to it Hans. Imagine what we can do with our new surroundings. It’ll be like painting on a new canvas. I’ve got a plethora of ideas running rampant through my brain. In my mind, I can see it all the way it will be, not as it is now.”
On that delightful note, they went inside and ate a hardy meal, skirt steak, eggs sunny-side up, and a huge pile of fried potatoes. Life is going to be much simpler after this final separation. They both contemplated it with gusto.
V
As they neared Terre Haute, Jana called the tower for landing instructions. “Hullman approach control, this is Beech Baron 4729 Zebra, thirty miles northeast at three thousand feet inbound requesting clearance to land.”
“Two Niner Zebra, descend to one five hundred. Call from five miles,” responded the air controller.
“Two