Hobby and I were still at the Del Coronado Hotel suite where a private poker game ended with Hobby having won a multimillion dollar pot and a significant share of a superyacht. The owner, Carlos Gomez, who lost playing poker with Hobby, asked for time to raise money to pay off. Hobby insisted on settling the debt, then and there, by making a cash offer for the yacht. After some haggling Carlos agreed to give up the yacht for an additional $4 mil which Hobby satisfied with a check.
Carlos said, "Mr. Hobby, I am heart-broken to give up my yacht, please give me some time to gather up my personal belongings and advise my crew. You might come by in the afternoon and I will sign over the registration and give you a tour."
I could see Hobby was about to agree so I spoke up, "Hobby, I'd like to talk to you privately about our schedule." Hobby looked at me skeptically, but followed me across the room.
"What is it, Joe, something bothering you?"
"Yes, I'm afraid he might sail out of San Diego before you get aboard. Did you pay attention to what he was saying on his cell phone a while ago?"
"No, I don't understand Spanish."
"I don't either but I picked up a couple words: pronto, and vamoose. I think you'd better not let him out of your sight."
"You really think he might pull a fast one? Hell, even if we stick to him he could set sail and we couldn't really stop him."
"Probably not, but I've got an idea. I need to make a couple phone calls, but for now let's take it one step at a time and see what happens."
While Hobby explained that we'd all go together to the yacht, I made my phone calls. I could tell by the look on Carlos' face he wasn't happy with the arrangement, but he wasn't in a position to decline.
We went to the yacht's mooring near Shelter Island in Carlos' car. The driver was a swarthy looking Hispanic with a scary scowl on his face. He apparently knew his boss had lost the yacht and wasn't happy about. Since our approach was to the bow of the yacht we couldn't get a good view of its size, but from what we saw it seemed much bigger than Lazybuns. We were given a mini-tour as we made our way to the main salon where Gomez produced the registration papers. He and Hobby signed the document and passed them to me to witness. After I signed them I handed them back to Hobby who suddenly looked startled and said, "We're moving."
"Don't be concerned, I just want to show you the engines are in good working order," Carlos said with a sneering smile.
"Thank you for the demonstration, but as the new owner and captain, I'm countermanding that order. Take me to the bridge."
"I will take you, but not to the bridge."
Hobby went immediately into a fighting posture, but there was little we could do when three heavily armed men appeared. We were ushered below and locked into a small storage room. "I hope you've got a good idea, Joe, because I think we're screwed. Once we're at sea, they'll use us for fish food."
"Let's hope they wait a while before they come after us. I'm praying one my phone calls will pay off. I called the Coast Guard and told them I was being kidnapped and held on a yacht sailing out of San Diego Bay. I also called the DEA and told them there was a large store of cocaine on a yacht about to leave San Diego."
"That's great, Joe. Do you think you got through to them?"
"I hope so. I used your name thinking it would have more impact."
"Jeez, I hope so, but what if the crew tries to knock us off before we can be rescued?"
Hobby tried to muscle open the door, but couldn't budge it. I'd been looking around to see what e might use to defend ourselves. There was nothing obvious to use for a weapon. The room, about 10' x 10', was a storage area for canned goods, shelf after shelf of them. "I've got a plan, Hobby. The door opens inwardly and the hinges are on this side. We can build a barricade braced against the back wall so they can't open the door."
Using turned over shelf units and cases of canned goods we built a solid barricade in about five minutes. Hobby suddenly looked alert and said, "Do you hear that? They just poured on the power. We must be in open water." We looked at each other with apprehension, wondering if the cavalry were on the way. It seemed like we were full speed ahead for several minutes. As each minute passed our hope for rescue diminished. I didn't have any nails left to chew on when the engines abruptly stopped.
It was the longest wait of my life, but probably no more than fifteen minutes before we heard voices, and thank God, they were speaking English. Hobby and I hollered and someone replied "U.S. Coast Guard, open up."
When we got back to the salon, Carlos and his crew were cuffed and lined up. Hobby showed the bill of sale and registration papers to the Coast Guard officer in charge, satisfying him that Hobby was the rightful owner. A DEA agent poked his head into the room and said, "We found it, cocaine and pot." That was a surprise and a relief because I had given what I thought was a false report when I made the telephone call to the DEA.
Hobby approached Carlos and said, "I'm sorry it turned out this way. You didn't have to get busted, but you can't weasel out when you lose at poker."
Write to author David Valley at: dvalley1@san.rr.com
