208 days ago
208 days ago
It was time to prepare for landfall, so I began to clean up the boat and get ready. I made some breakfast with bacon, eggs, toast and several large cups of tea. I then tidied the kitchen and hopped in the shower. If I weren’t on my Valiant 40 sailboat named Probability floating in the Gulf of Mexico, this would have seemed like your average morning.
Now, the shower on my boat is in the very back of the cabin, far from the deck, navigation system, radar and radio. I was responsible and left the radar and radar alarm on to warn me of any ships or oncoming objects. Anything within a three mile radius would trigger the warning system. Plus, to be extra careful, I scoped the horizon on all sides to check for other vessels and what not. I saw nothing and felt completely comfortable leaving my post for a five minute shower.
Auto pilot had me cruising at roughly 6 knots while I cleaned myself. My shower ended, so I walked out naked, only towel in hand, to go check the radar and GPS for my positions. Now, remember, I was by myself in the middle of the Gulf, nothing or no one in sight; meaning I was in no hurry to clothe myself.
I took two steps out of the shower then lifted my head toward the stern of the boat. Standing in the middle of my cabin was a man, full bearded, dirty clothes and a gold earring. I froze butt naked, he stared at me, I stared at him. I said to myself, this is a pirate and I’m dead. He’s going to kill me and take my boat and all my belongings. My life is history.
There was a brief second (to me which seemed like an eternity) where none of us said anything. Silence mixed with the sound brush of the ocean’s current scratching the hull of the wooden cabin. The rangy man reached in his pocket and proceeded to pull something out. With a solid face and no emotion, he pointed the object at me. My heart stopped while I prepared for a quick, painless death.
He then said the words, “DEA,” and flipped the object in his right hand to reveal a badge. My nerves untwisted while I exhaled all the oxygen out of my lungs, saying, “Oh my God, Thank God!” It was the biggest relief knowing this guy was a patrol man in the Drug Enforcement Agency performing a random inspection and not a pirate who was going to murder me and steal my boat.
I then asked If I could get dressed, a request he willingly affirmed. While I was putting my clothes on, I tried to figure out what exactly was going on. Did they think I was a smuggler? A drug dealer? A convict? Why was I 100 miles offshore with a DEA agent on my boat. Then the though crossed my mind- was he in fact a pirate posing as a DEA agent? I did, for some odd reason, believe the man, but there’s always a little doubt, naturally, in strange situations like these.
I stepped out from changing. Now, in my cockpit, was another guy standing there with the individual I previously spoke with. Two dirty looking strangers wearing tattered clothes that I’d never seen in my life were now passengers on my boat. My heart began to race again. I asked, “What are you guys doing here? Is there a problem?”
The new guy responded, “Well, we have a fast cigarette boat that goes about 80 miles per hour. We scan the waters and radio all incoming traffic. Sometimes we perform random inspections, but we always approach a boat if they don’t answer our call. And you didn’t respond, so here we are! We pulled up to the stern of your boat to see what was going on.”
Now I knew that they were telling the truth. If they were in fact pirates, they would have killed me by now. Additionally, despite their rough appearance, they were way too nice to be pirates. I offered them a Cola and told them they were free to search the entire vessel since I was hiding nothing.
The man laughed and said, “That won’t be necessary. The relief on your face when I said DEA was all the evidence I needed to know that you weren’t hiding anything. I doubt any drug dealer would be that thrilled to see DEA officer on their boat.”
We chatted for about half an hour or so while they explained a little more about their interesting job. Then, they jumped in their cigarette boat and hauled down the open sea at 80 miles per hour beyond the horizon.
Now, I’ve witnessed some pretty horrifying events in my solo sailing days, everything from tremendous storms to vital equipment breaking and numerous other problems. However, none amount to the fear that penetrated my soul after coming out of the shower- dripping wet, stark naked and seeing a sketchy looking man standing in your cabin 100 miles off shore in the middle of nowhere is an absolutely horrifying experience that I hope no one ever has to go through.
In the end, he and his partner ended up being pretty cool and were just doing their job.
My friends were waiting on me at the docks when I arrived in Key West several hours later. The first thing I said to them was, “Man, do I have a story for you!”
