Stolen Diving Suit Page 5

  18.

  “How’re we gonna get the boat out there, we can’t go all the way around the

  Island?” Walt asked munching on his glazed donut.

  “What if we built a trailer for the boat --- then we could tow it.”

  “How about your old bike’s wheels --- the boat isn’t that heavy. Heck, the road is flat all the way out there – maybe we could tow it with our bikes”

  “Yeah, Ray and Ben towed their big old paddleboard out there just attached to a bike.” I said, thinking it would be neat to be able to pull our rowboat over to the other side of the island to fish. “I bet our boat doesn’t weigh anymore that their paddleboard.”

  We went up to my garage and looked at the bike. The problem, of course, was how to connect the two tires. I looked at some old 2x4s in the corner.

  “We need something lighter that 2x4’s,” I said. “ Let me think about it today – I’ll go to the library tonight and research trailers.”

  “Where are you going to find anything about trailers?” Walt asked.

  “I don’t know – I’ll just look around – maybe I’ll ask Mrs. Quigley.

  “Mrs. Quigley – what’s she going to know about bike trailers, George Bailey – why don’t we just get somebody to haul it out in a truck?”

  “’Cause, we want to be able to go when we want to, not when they do.” I said.

  We had to run back so we wouldn’t be late for work. I spent most of the day filing reports and rearranging the property room. I found a pair of stolen binoculars and took them into the front office.

  “Officer Keyes, do you think I could use those binoculars for my investigation of the case?” I asked.

  “Let me take a look at the tag.”

  The binoculars were part of some stolen loot Officer Hollis captured five years ago. A lot of the stolen stuff had been claimed over the years, but no one had claimed the binoculars.

  “I’m surprised Hollis didn’t sell them and keep the money. We’ll have a stolen property sale next month,” Officer Keyes said, “I have a couple of pairs in that cabinet over there,” he said, pointing to a locked cabinet. “They’re much more powerful than these cheap ones. Go ahead and take a pair when you need them.”

  I reviewed the case and my plans with Officer Keyes. He seemed very interested and even suggested I might look at some National Geographic magazines for ideas on my boat trailer.

  “They use bike trailers in China all the time. Hell, they even haul people in those cabs. Your dinghy isn’t that heavy – you should be able to figure out something. By the way, George Bailey, did you ever ask Mr. Nolton, if there’s any way to identify his suit?”

  “No, sorry, I forgot --I’ll interview him tonight before I go to the library.”

  “ That’s OK, you’re doing great --you can leave early. It’s part the job – you’re on the payroll.”

  I left at 4:00, I felt bad that I’d forgotten to check with Mr. Nolton about identifying marks on his diving suit. I was sure glad I asked.

  “You bet boy,” he said, a cigarette tangling from his mouth, “ I painted a big yellow N on the back of that suit. You can’t miss it.”

  “Maybe they scraped it off,” I said.

  “Yeah, maybe, but you’d still be able to see where it used to be.”

  19.

  Sharon and I met at the library. Walt had a date, a tourist girl from Pasadena who was over for a couple of days. Walt was constantly on the lookout down at the paddleboard dock. Her name was Jane and she was a year older that we were. Walt, naturally, lied about his age.

  “Hello Mrs. Quigley,” I said, sticking my chest out a little so she wouldn’t miss my badge.

  “Officer Watson, I presume.”

  “Yes ma’am,” I laughed, “I was wondering if you had any information on how to build a bike trailer.”

  She suggested I look under that subject in the index cards and also to check some of the back issues of Popular Mechanics and National Geographic.”

  “Officer Keyes mentioned the National Geographic too.” I said.

  “I made a trip to the Orient several years ago, Officer Watson, and there were bicycle trailers everywhere. You’d be amazed what they can carry. Many are made of bamboo.”

  “Bamboo? I never thought of bamboo.”

  She showed me the section where the National Geographics were located.

  “They didn’t have bicycle trailers in Polynesia, Officer Watson. You don’t need to spend your time tonight reviewing the native girls.”

  I blushed. You can’t hide anything from a librarian.

  I looked at pictures of Saigon. There were men pulling carts, which had bicycle tires and bamboo. Mrs. Quigley even showed me some pictures a friend had taken of her sitting with fatter lady in a hand drawn cab. I saw how they attached the bamboo to the wheel, and couldn’t wait to show Walt.

  I remembered a grove of bamboo trees out near the golf course. They were overgrown and the city council wanted to remove ‘em, but didn’t have the money these days.

  I walked Sharon home -- we hid from her parents by the front porch and kissed for a while.

  That night in my room, I drew out plans for my bamboo trailer. I’d use heavy fish line to connect the crosspieces. Connecting the tires was the hard part. I kept thinking and figured we’d find something at the hardware store.

  20.

  “How was your date with Jane?”

  “Not to good, she wouldn’t let me put my arm around her in the show, she kept squirming away from me. She says she has a boyfriend in Pasadena.”

  “Well, who cares,” I said, sipping my orange juice. “Come by the garage after work—we’re going to make a trailer for the dinghy out of bamboo.”

  “Bamboo -- are you crazy? Ray made his out of wood.” Walt said.

  “I know – but bamboo will be lighter and just as strong. They even use bamboo for scaffolding when they build skyscrapers in Hong Kong. I saw it in National Geographic.

  “Don’t you think wood is better?”

  “Bamboo will work better Wally – I promise.”

  “It’s Walt, remember, Walt. Do I need to bring anything?”

  “Bring heavy-test fishing line if you have it Walt.”

  Walt came over that night with some heavy line. We went over to the bamboo grove and cut out eight 8-foot sections. Six were about 1.5 inches in diameter and the other two were ¾ inch. When we got back I laid them out on floor and told Walt where to cut them. We took the heavy fishing line and connected the joints wrapping them criss-cross over and over.

  “I think we’ll varnish the joints after – like you do with guides on a fishing pole.

  “The trailer is built like a figure 6. The bike tires attached to the 1.5 inch poles -- one on each side of the tire.”

  “I don’t get it?” Walt said.

  “Come over here –I’ll draw it out.” I said, moving over to the workbench.

  “Oh yeah —but how do we connect the tires?”

  I showed Walt pieces of angle iron I found in the alley. They had holes running along each side.

  “Here’s the hacksaw,” I said. “We need four pieces about a foot long. We’ll attach them to the bottom of the big bamboo pieces and then just bolt the tires on.”

  The whole project took two nights. We had to bring the boat up the second night to make sure it would clear the tires.

  “We’ll put the ladder underneath the boat – then it will clear,” I said, “ but first we have to paint the top of the ladder white.”

  “What? Why?”

  I explained it all to Walt and he went to work, ‘course he ended up with as much white paint on his arms as on the ladder. Meanwhile I studied the tow connection to the bike.

  Sharon came by to check on our progress.

  “I think that trailer’s perfect, George Bailey,” she said. “When are we going to take the boat out there?”

  “Soon –real soon.”

  That night I checked my list: bino
culars, ladder, fishing line and heavy sinker. Oh crap, I thought, I forgot to measure and paint the fishing line. I made a note to do it early in the morning.

  21.

  “I think you should check the other map,” Sharon whispered.

  “What map?”

  “The most recent one for 1930 –you only looked at the one from 1890.”

  “But that’s the one the crooks looked at.”

  “I know, but if there’s anything different on the new one, you’ll know something they don’t know.”

  “OK.”

  I walked past Mrs. Quigley –she nodded and smiled. I grabbed the map marked 1930. The minute I rolled it out and looked at the area around Skipjack Point, I knew Sharon was right. There was a high spot, only 12 feet deep. I ran my finger out from Grady’s shack and across from the tip of Skipjack point. Now I knew what happened to the Bolivia, and why it sank. I ran back in to grab the other map. I spread it out on another table. It was a good thing it was summertime and the library was empty except for Sharon sitting in an old leather chair reading “Early Hamilton Island.”

  “Sharon, I yelled, “come here – you were right –there is a change – a big one.”

  Mrs. Quigley looked up over her reading glasses and shook her head, but she was smiling.

  We ran back and forth several times between tables.

  “There’s something else,” Sharon said, “ that high section extends further to the north, than it showed in the old map, and has a slight mound near the north edge.”

  I looked -- the mound was mostly around 50 feet deep.

  “Do you think it might be the “Bolivia”?” I said, my heart pounding. “Maybe sand and settled on it and made that mound.”

  “Either that or they missed it on the other map –like they missed the high spot.”

  I made a note to add a lobster float and some rope to my list. I also wanted some black paint.

  22.

  Early Monday morning we all met at my garage.

  “Let’s take the oars and your bikes up to Skipjack Road,” I said to Walt and Sharon. “Sharon can wait there with the stuff and you and I can push my bike with the ladder and dinghy up the hill.

  First we loaded the trailer with the ladder, then the boat on top of it. The dinghy contained our gear: fishing pole with line and heavy sinker, black painted lobster floats with 150 feet of line each, binoculars, lifejackets, towels and, of course, our lunch: three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, apples and my Dad’s old army canteen filled with water.

  Walt and Sharon pushed their bikes up the hill to Skipjack Road and Walt ran back.

  It wasn’t a very bad incline. I pushed on the handlebars and Walt pushed on the back of the boat.

  “That tow connection works great,” Walt said.

  “Yeah, I got the idea from National Geographic, but they used rope. You need a little play or it will break.” I looked back at the trailer – not bad for free, I thought.

  At the top of the hill we all got on our bikes. I let Walt ride my bike, hitched, to the trailer – he’s much stronger.

  “This trailer is super!”

  “Just take it easy Walt, we sure don’t want it to break.”

  We rode along, Walt in front with the trailer, Sharon and I in back. It was a warm morning. At the Halfway House, actually just an old shack, we stopped and shared some water from Dad’s canteen.

  “Do you want an apple Sharon?” I asked.

  “Not yet, we can have lunch before we launch the boat.”

  “Walt and I have to put up the ladder first.”

  “We’ll eat after you boys do that.”

  Just beyond the Halfway House we could see the water. It was flat, like a quiet lake. It’ll be easy to row out, I thought. I noticed a boat fishing near Skipjack Point. I stopped, took out the binoculars and looked, but they were too far away.

  When we finally arrived at Skipjack Point, the fishing boat was gone, the surf was very small, and no one was out surfing. I was glad – we didn’t need any company. We rode on the dirt rode to the north end of the bay. It would be easier to launch the boat there. Walt and I left Sharon with the gear and hauled the ladder up the hill and over to Grady’s shack. We positioned it right on top of his carved initials, and then ran back down to Sharon.

  “Let’s bring all the stuff down by the sand.”

  “You boys have fun out there,” Sharon said, “I’m going to work on my tan. I wore my bathing suit underneath.”

  Walt and I lugged the dinghy down to the shore and put the oars in the oarlocks. We didn’t bring the motor. We weren’t sure if we’d have some surf when we planned our trip so we decided to just row out. We pushed out --- first Walt jumped in and sat on the middle bench -- then I followed and sat in the back.

  “There’s no waves commin’ -- row hard Wally.”

  As he rowed out, I turned around and waved at Sharon.

  “Head over to the left a little Walt – let me know when you can see it.” I said.

  Walt rowed hard out beyond the kelp beds. Our dingy slid right over the top of the slippery kelp.

  “I see it --- look!” Walt said and pointed. I looked back and up on the hill. I could just see the white top of the ladder.

  “Row over ‘til you’re right in front of it, then row out ‘til it tell you to stop.” I said.

  “Yes sir boss.”

  “Please.”

  “Thank you boss.” Walt laughed.

  We got right in front of the white ladder and started to row straight out. I kept my eye on Skipjack Point.

  “Go out a little further, Walt. Is the ladder still behind us?”

  “Yeah, right behind us.”

  “This is about it,” I said. I dropped the paint can filled with cement overboard and let out the rope and the lobster float. We worked in circles around the float for about an hour. I’d let out the fishing line, and counted out -- -40 -45 -50 -80 feet. At about 98 or so I felt bottom. I did this over and over as we widened our circle. After about an hour or so, I must have let the fishing line out more than 20 times. I start 5 -10 – Wait! Stop! I hit bottom we were about 200 feet directly north of the buoy.

  “This is where the Bolivia hit the rock.” I said, “It sank slowly and would have sunk to the south of the buoy.”

  “Why’d you paint the buoy black?” Walt said. “It will be hard to see.”

  “That’s the idea, we can find it, cause we know about where it is. It will be harder for anybody else to see.”

  “Like who?”

  “Like the crooks who took the diving suit –that’s who.”

  Just then a boat came around the corner at Skipjack point and headed towards us.

  23.

  “Row to shore Walt --- I’ll let out some line like were trolling.” The boat kept coming, then altered course further out to sea.

  “It’s harder to row with that damn big sinker you got out.”

  “Just go a little bit more and I’ll reel it in like I’m checking my bait. We’ll be far enough away from them by then.”

  Walt did what I said and we rowed toward Sharon sitting on the beach. Once we finally got in and secured the boat on the sand. I ran up to her.

  “We found it, we found it Sharon – the high spot.”

  “Is it near where those guys are diving?” She said pointing in the direction of the boat.”

  I sat down on the sand and looked through my binoculars. They were way east of the high spot. There were two men sitting in the boat. Officer Hollis was right --the binoculars were really powerful. One man helped the other into a diving suit. The boat was swinging on its anchor. It was an old wood hull with peeling paint. On the stern I could just make out the name -- “Scooter.”

  “It’s called Scooter,” I said, “looks like it’s about 20 feet.”

  “I know that boat,” Walt said. “ He anchors over by all the small boats just beyond the paddleboard dock.”

  “Oh yeah,” I said, “ I think I remember
it.”

  “What are they doing now?” Sharon said.

  “The one guy is putting the suit on. Oh wow!”

  “What.” Sharon said.

  “It’s the crooks alright – I can see the yellow N on the back of the suit.”

  “Dang! Quit lookin’ at ‘em!” Walt said.

  “Don’t worry, they’re not paying any attention to us – but there’s one good thing.”

  “What’s that?” Walt said.

  “They’re diving in the wrong spot.”

  We watched them for a while and even went swimming a couple of times. Walt and I just had our boxer shorts on.

  We loaded up the trailer and pedaled back in to town. I could hardly wait to tell Officer Keyes the news tomorrow. George Bailey and Associates had caught the thieves!

  There was still some more stolen property to recover – the silver bullion.

  24.

  Officer Keyes was in the office when I arrived. I gave him back the binoculars.

  “We found the suit and the crooks Officer Keyes.”

  “You did, that’s great, where is it—where are they.”

  I told him about the rest of our trip out to Skipjack Point.

  “You made the trailer out of bamboo – I’ve got to see that – I could use one for my dinghy too.”

  “Heck, I’ll make it for you – it’s up in my parent’s garage – they’re easy to make.”

  “That boat’s name is “Scooter,” right? Wait here a second George Bailey.”

  Officer Keyes grabbed the binoculars and headed down towards the pier. I went back to the jail to see Harold. The judge gave him 30 days less time served. He still had about a week to go. If the time was less than 30 days and we had room, the judge just let them serve the time on the island – saved on transporting ‘em over to the mainland.

  “You have a nice day off George Bailey?” Harold asked.

  “I sure did– just wanted to say hi – I’ve got to stay in the office ‘til Officer Keyes gets back.”