We got together on Lazybuns about five, the afternoon of our first day in Cabo San Lucas. Patsy, our chef, and Hobby's other two guests, Peter and Charlie, came back with the goods-four large yellow-tail tuna. The girls had a good day shopping judging from the bags they lugged aboard, and were a bit giddy yet from their noontime libations. As for me and Hobby, we couldn't be happier. We found a small poker club and both of us came away winners.
Patsy went to make appetizers while Hobby and Pablo prepared drinks. The sun was noticeably on the wane and pleasantly hot as the sea breeze flowed over the fantail. Kim nuzzled up to me and said, "I'm so glad I came, Joe."
"I am too, honey," I said as I gave her a tequila wetted kiss. I anticipated a good night ahead.
Later, Hobby as cruise director said, "Let's clean up, and meet in an hour to go to ashore for dinner. Kim took off on a run and I was right on her tail ... was I ever!
Our lady friends had checked out restaurants while shopping. As we headed down the main street Sue said, "We're going to Lupo's. We even made reservations."
After being seated the waiter said, "For drinks would you like to try the house specialty?"
"Which is?" Peter asked.
"Kahlua margaritas. We use Kahlua instead of Cointreau."
"Sure," Hobby answered. "Bring a round of them." I might have gone for a traditional drink, but what the hell. It's party time.
The KMs weren't bad and we had another round before we ordered. At some point, in between eating and tequila shooters, Kim grabbed me by the arm, "Let's go, Joe. We're going back to Lazybuns." That was my wakeup call. I didn't want to waste an evening with Kim in a drunken stupor. I grabbed a large glass of water from the table, drank a few big gulps, and poured the rest over my head.
"Okay, honey. I'm ready and able."
"We'll see," she said smugly.
We slept in late and made the best of our remaining time together since the girls would be leaving in the afternoon. In the dining room we were greeted by Patsy, bedecked in whites. "I'ma make a nice buffet 'cause I'ma no gonna see my sweet ladies no more," Patsy said, overacting with sorrow.
The hired airport van was loaded to the gills with luggage while we said our goodbyes. We wouldn't be seeing the ladies again for almost two months. There were some genuine tears. But even as the van pulled away we were caught up in the excitement of our big trip.
"Pablo, get the port captain on the radio and tell him we plan to leave in a half-hour. Also contact the Mexican Navy and give them our course and first destination. I'll be on the bridge soon with Pete to get underway."
"Aye, aye, sir!" Pablo replied as he gave a smart salute.
I was sitting on the afterdeck with Charlie and Pete with nothing to do but enjoy the view while sipping a Corona. "What did you think of the visitor yesterday?" Charlie asked.
"Who was that?" I replied.
"I guess you were already aboard. A black Mercedes pulled up and a Mexican guy got out who had drug lord written all over him, diamond rings with huge rocks and big bling around his neck. He said to Hobby, 'That your boat?' Hobby nodded and they guy said, 'You want to sell it?'"
"Was he serious?"
"Yeah, he seemed to be. Hobby said, 'No thanks' and the guy took Hobby's arm and said, 'Maybe I just take a look around.' Hobby squeezed the guy's wrist. I could tell by the look on his face that it must have hurt. He gave Hobby a killer stare and left. Funny he didn't mention it to you, Joe."
"Well, that's Hobby."
As we were leaving Cabo behind I saw a small boat, maybe a mile back, following our wake. Since I heard the story, I was on the alert. You don't mess with drug cartel heavies in Mexico. An hour later, I could still see the boat in the distance when Hobby joined our group. "I think we're being tailed," I said as I pointed. "Yeah, but he's turning off. I had him on radar and now there are two larger craft out front about five miles. Pablo checked with the Mexican Navy and they don't have any ships in the area. They could be fishermen, but I'm not taking any chances. I'm opening the weapons locker. Pete, you were a Marine sniper, you can take the .357 Magnum rifle with the scope. Joe and Charlie take the pump shotguns and a sidearm. I'll take the AK47 up to the bridge.
About 1000 yards away two vessels approached on either side of the bow. I had the binoculars on them. "Hobby, the one on the right looks like it has a covered gun mount and there's a guy standing next to it."
"Pete, hide in the lifeboat and take a bead on that guy. If it looks like he's going to fire, take him out. Charlie cover the port side; Joe, starboard."
When the boats got close a man with a loud-hailer said, "Pull up, we're going to board you."
"No you're not," Hobby shouted.
Immediately the cover was pulled off and the heavy-duty machine gun swung toward us. POW! A shot rang out and machine gunner dropped to the deck. When second man ran to the emplaced gun, POW! Another bad guy hit the deck.
"Hold on tight everyone," Hobby shouted, "I'm going hard to port." Soon there was a loud crunching and ripping sound as we crashed into the other boat, practically cutting it in half. "To hell with any survivors," Hobby said, "We're getting out of here."
Back in port at Cabo, Hobby surveyed the damage. "Sorry guys, but Lazybuns has a big gash in the hull. Our trip has come to an abrupt end. We'll fly home and the crew will take her to the Ensenada shipyard."
I felt like we'd been at war; now we're going home, safe and sound. I'll settle for that.
Write to author David Valley at: dvalley1@san.rr.com
