Destination: Unknown: A Desperate Tale Of Survival Read online

  Destination

  Unknown

  Larry Dodson

  ISBN-13: 978-1508488705

  Destination Unknown

  Copyright © 2015 by Larry Dodson

  All rights reserved. Accept for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Larry J. Dodson, 520 7th Street W #951, Palmetto, FL 34220

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  Dedicated to my wife Kacy,

  without her encouragement and

  loving support this book would

  have not been possible.

  Chapter 1

  On The Eve...

  Brandon woke to the annoying whistle of the six-thirty freight train making its daily run to the local fruit juice plant. What started out as another balmy October morning would end up changing life as he and his wife Judy had grown accustomed to.

  Brandon and Judy chose to spend their retirement years living on a small sailboat. They enjoy being tethered to civilization by living in a marina that provides them with most of the amenities people on shore take for granted. The marina they chose to live in came fully stocked with all the colorful characters you would expect by living in what Brandon jokingly refers to as a floating trailer park. Their liveaboard sailing neighbors provided an endless supply of knowledge, insight, enlightenment and gossip.

  The decision to retire on a sailboat was easy. They believed a well-equipped sailboat represented the ultimate bug-out vehicle, or more specifically, "bug- out vessel". Sailboats were self-contained, mobile and could adequately carry the needed provisions to sustain life as well as provide an easy way to distance themselves in the event of civil unrest.

  Both were of the belief it was just a matter of time before SHTF.

  The couple had started making preparations to provision "Sparrow", a small full keel cutter rig ketch two years earlier. They had acquired what they considered absolute must have items to be truly self-sufficient. Relocating Sparrow from the cold California coastline to the warm Florida waters was at the top of the list. They figured their survival in the event of a national catastrophe would be greatly increased by moving to a warmer climate, an abundance of fish, and the ability to capture rainwater, three of the main ingredients required for self-sufficient survival. Their decision to relocate to a marina in Palmetto was based solely on the historical lack of hurricane activity over the past eighty years.

  The town of Palmetto lies approximately five miles up the Manatee River which flowed into Tampa Bay. The much larger city of Bradenton is situated directly across the river connected by a four lane concrete bridge about a mile long.

  After living in the hustle-bustle congestion of the San Francisco Bay area the last five years, moving to the small town atmosphere of Palmetto was a welcome treat. As a boater this was as close to heaven as it gets.

  Careful thought had gone into upgrading Sparrow’s seaworthiness and self-sufficiency. New sails, electric motor, dinghy, three month’s worth of food for two and a manual salt water desalinator would prove invaluable should a national crisis arise. Phase one took little over a year to acquire all the necessary supplies to survive without outside assistance. Phase two entailed saving enough money to have Sparrow trucked to Florida with enough funds left over to comfortably re-establish their lives.

  One thing Brandon and Judy had come to realize, they enjoyed socializing with their neighbors, but in the event of a national emergency people were going to be the first thing to avoid. Most boaters, like the general population, only maintain about three days’ worth of food and Sparrow would be stocked like a floating convenience store. One advantage Sparrow possessed was her unassuming small size compared to larger "yacht" looking boats. Odds were in her favor she would be ignored as just another small boat looking for a handout. At least that was their hope. Still, avoidance at all cost was essential at least until things eventually settled into what they would be.

  Brandon went about his typical morning routine turning on the TV and tuning to his favorite news/talk station. Judy started a pot of coffee. Nothing of any notoriety to report, stock market up, some report of yet another country the U. S. was having political problems with...same old same old. After fifteen minutes the decision was made to switch to watching "I Love Lucy" before taking care of their daily chores. Brandon took his coffee out the companionway to enjoy a cigarette in the open air of the cockpit. The faint sound of the busy road about twelve hundred feet away buzzed with light steady traffic as the morning commute got underway.

  Judy popped her head out of the companionway to let Brandon know, “The cable box isn't working for some reason."

  Brandon knew that was code for "fix the TV.” "I’ll take a look at it in a minute" he said as he continued to smoke.

  The buzzing trance of the traffic was suddenly interrupted by squealing tires and the sound of a multiple car crash. Brandon strained to see the direction of the noise hidden just out of view by trees.

  "Whoa, did you hear that? I think someone must have run the signal light."

  Judy entered the cockpit scanning the same direction Brandon was facing. Unable to catch a glimpse she mumbled, “I’m glad we don't have to deal with rush hour anymore."

  Brandon shook his head in agreement. "I'll take a look at what's wrong with the TV. Maybe they'll have something on the news later."

  Brandon was fairly good at systematic problem solving. A few minutes later he reported his findings to Judy.

  "The TV is working fine. It's getting plenty of power from the batteries."

  "What about the cable?"

  "Cables plugged in. For some reason it just doesn't want to pick up any stations. If it keeps up you'll have to call the cable company to find out what's wrong."

  "Turn on the radio, see if it works."

  As Brandon started to comment "What does that gotta do with the TV... “He stopped short as he realized her request suggested the possibility that the wreck and the TV might have originated from the same event.

  A few seconds later Brandon informed her "Nothing but static on all of the stations."

  Judy took on a puzzled look as she responded, “Some of the stations are over forty miles away. I have a feeling it must be more than a local problem."

  Without so much as a second thought, she went below deck, rummaging through the compartments in the v-berth to find Sparrow’s "ditch bag", moments later pulling out a battery powered portable shortwave radio. Though the radio couldn't transmit, it was capable of listening to shortwave communications around the world. Brandon plugged a long wire into the radio which functioned as the antenna as per the multi-lingual instructions.

  Judy subconsciously started nervously twisting the ends of her long brown hair as Brandon glossed over the instruction one more time. Satisfied that everything was in order he flipped the switch on.

  The small contraption sprang to life emitting whining sounds which Brandon eventually fine-tuned to receive what sounded like two women talking about dating. As their voices drifted in and out of coherency it was obvious they were as clueless as Brandon and Judy as to what was happening in Central Florida. As he continued turning the knob, he briefly caught on to ano
ther conversation that drifted off into static.

  "The instructions say the signal will vary with the time of day, something about bouncing the signal off the atmosphere. I'll try again in an hour or so."

  Brandon gave a confident smile to Judy. She didn't return a look of confidence in the small radio.

  The two sat in the cockpit discussing the long term consequences of a statewide blackout and mutually agreed to start preparing Sparrow for cruising just in case the situation spun out of control.

  They figured there was no need to panic and they had enough time to ready the boat without drawing unwanted attention. Having spent the last six years living in a marina they knew someone was always watching what you do.

  Judy uncoiled the hose on the dock to begin topping off Sparrows water tank while Brandon disconnected the now useless power cord.

  The decision was made two years earlier to install an electric inboard motor in Sparrow as opposed to replacing her undependable diesel. Scarcity of fuel in the event of a nationwide calamity clinched the decision to go electric. The electric motor had its disadvantages when it came to continuous run time, but proved more than adequate for going in and out of anchorages. An additional solar panel was dedicated to charging the motor away from the dock, freeing them of the need for dockside a/c power and unwanted contact with people.

  As preparations covertly progressed on the boat, car horns as well as the distinct sound of emergency sirens started to increase throughout the surrounding neighborhood. Something extraordinary was taking place.

  "Judy, come check this out."

  As Judy stepped out into the cockpit three military helicopters flying in close formation flew over the marina headed in the direction of Tampa Bay. "You don't see that every day!"

  The thunderous roar of the helicopter engines briefly drowned out the sound of a community on the threshold of collapse.

  In retrospect, the horns and sirens expressed frustration, something you could relate to. Frustration would soon be giving way to panic when the chaotic noise ceased. The lack of sirens would reflect the collapse of local governmental control over the masses and ultimately end with the pillaging of the haves, by the have nots.

  Brandon tried to ease the moment, "Let's not get panicky and freak out."

  "OK sweetie, but if things are still screwed up tomorrow, I want to leave."

  Brandon and Judy, like most Americans, had grown up in a nanny society of abundance. If you couldn't acquire the basic needs, the government would provide it for you. They never had to fear starvation or a roof over their head. For the first time in their lives there was no assurance of anything. Staying alive in the near future could be dependent on new, yet to be learned survival skills and the ability to adapt on the fly. The only light at the end of the tunnel came in the form of staying alive long enough to rejoin a fledgling society somewhere down the road. They suddenly realized their lives as well as the rest of the country might never be the same.

  As they lay in bed that night listening to sporadic unfamiliar noises emanating from the little town just beyond the marina, they questioned if all the time and effort they put into preparing themselves for living in a world without order. Probably not, but only time would tell.

  Chapter 2

  Time to Leave

  A few hours after day break on the second day, Richard, a boating neighbor stood on the finger pier alongside Sparrow. "Judy, Brandon, anybody on board?" which was the customary way of announcing yourself in an environment lacking front doors and door bells.

  "Yeah, be right out." Brandon knew Richard was keenly aware of what was transpiring and one of the few boaters who routinely bragged about hoarding six months’ worth of food for just such an event that was appearing to unfold.

  As Brandon exited the cabin Richard quietly inquired, “What’s your take on the power outage?" Richard’s tone expressed an uncertainty which ran contrary to his usual confident “I always know what's going on attitude."

  "We don’t know for sure. We've been trying to pick up shortwave radio signals but haven't had any luck. We should have spent a little more money on a more reliable radio."

  “I haven't heard anything either, but I did hear what sounded like automatic gunfire last night and I don't think it was the cops. I'm seriously thinking about getting out of dodge while I can. I mean like, how long before looters end up in the marina?"

  Without conferring with Judy, Brandon casually asked, "Want Company?” He assumed that was why Richard was there.

  "You bet. If nothing comes of it we'll still have a good time cruising. I've talked to two other boats that want to join in, you know, a safety in numbers thing."

  Brandon had always thought Richard would be a great choice for bugging out with, but deep down felt there was no true safety in boating numbers. He likened it to “You don't have to out run a bear entering your camp, you just have to run faster than the slowest camper." In the event of crossing paths with bandits, Sparrow’s small size would not be as appealing to plunder as Richard’s much larger boat. Big boat, lots of food, that simple. Brandon knew it was a cold attitude to take toward humanity, but in the potential new world he and Judy were entering into found it necessary to break situations down to their primary elements for survival.

  "Who else is going?"

  Richard paused for a moment, “Mark, Luann, and George with the Islander 32."

  Brandon and Judy considered Mark and LuAnn a down to earth couple with great personalities. Mark had a good sense of humor and LuAnn an infectious smile. On more than one occasion the couples had discussed sailboats being the "ultimate survival vehicle", or in this case, "vessel” in the event things went south with the government.

  "I don't know George. How well do you know him?"

  "Well, he seems pretty normal to me. He owns a shit load of guns."

  Brandon thought to himself someone with weapons would be an excellent addition, that is, as long as the small armada of fleeing boats pulled together as a team. Besides, this was Richard’s parade. Brandon had an opportunity to either join, or strike out alone.

  "Sounds good, when are you planning on leaving?”

  "I'll let you know within the hour." He stepped off the boat onto the dock. “Hang loose.”

  Brandon impatiently waited for Judy to return to the boat. She had left just prior to Richard’s visit to take advantage of the marina’s shower facilities. Both had figured it would only be a short time before the water in the large above-ground storage tank would empty as it required electricity to run the pumps. He was excited and a little nervous as the gravity of what was about to happen had morphed from what if, to what now. This wasn't a game, this was real life. Brandon was confident she would agree on the decision to join Richard and the other two boats.

  Upon Judy's return Brandon informed her of Richard’s plan. As the two discussed the positive aspects of a group departure they started jotting down questions they would ask Richard at the upcoming meeting. They also wrote down a few suggestions they would bounce off the other boaters in hopes of developing a sustainable strategy. There was nothing left to do but wait for Richard.

  Forty minutes had passed before Richard returned with the message they were all going to meet on his boat at eleven o'clock. Once again a sense of excitement started to build in Brandon as he realized they might not be able to control what was going on beyond the marina, but the open water would at least provide them the opportunity to somewhat control their destiny. The idea of looters invading the marina, having to defend your food supply or worse, being rounded up and sent to live in a FEMA camp reinforced the decision to leave.

  Entering Richard’s boat they couldn't help but pick up on the somber atmosphere of the meeting. Mark, Luann, George and Richard shifted positions around the small table to make room for Brandon and Judy. Richard's seventeen year old daughter Amanda sat cross legged on the floor a few feet from the group.

  Richard opened with, "Any ideas?”

  Everyo
ne took a turn making suggestions, some good, some summarily dismissed. What struck Brandon was the confident no nonsense attitude of the attendees. This was a group that would not tolerate weak insecure personalities that would end up hampering their escape. Richard had succeeded in assembling like-minded self-reliant sailors. You just knew if you couldn't pull your own weight you'd be cut loose.

  The group carefully examined a chart of the area. They agreed to rendezvous at 27 degrees, 22.25 North, by 83 degrees 21.9 West. A position located 35 miles offshore. The total distance to reach their destination would require sailing a total of 47 nautical miles and under normal conditions take about eight hours to reach. The offshore location would give them the opportunity to take their time in deciding their next move.

  Richard went on to suggest all radar reflectors be removed and absolutely no running lights displayed at any time. VHF radio communication would be restricted to being within eye contact of another boat, and then only on low power settings. Ironically, the weakness with VHF radios has always been its short line of sight range of five to fifteen miles, but in their current situation the short distance would become an asset in keeping their position silent from prying ears.

  The final decision of when to leave was set for eight-thirty that evening. They planned on the darkness minimizing their detection on the river. The small fleet would stagger their departures as not to draw unwanted attention. The marina they lived in sat approximately five miles up the Manatee River. Once clearing the river they would have to sail eleven more miles to cross Tampa Bay in order to reach the Gulf of Mexico. If there was going to be a problem the trip down the one mile wide river would be it. The multi-million dollar homes that lined both sides of the banks would soon be stripped of their treasures by bands of opportunistic looters. What Brandon feared most was gun wielding whackos taking their frustration out on passing boats. Brandon knew clearing the river and entering the Gulf would sever their invisible umbilical cord with a society gone wild.