Just Different Devils Read Online Free PDF Page A

clutter of blue water jugs, yellow diesel jerry cans, and a surf board strapped to the rails. An un-inflated rubber dinghy lay upside down on the foredeck. I tried a couple of times to hail Carpe Diem , but there was no response.
    Sidling closer, I used my loud speaker to raise someone. Nada.
    Crap! Now what?
    Spying another sailboat heading north, I called them on the VHF.
    "Sailing vessel heading north between Partida and San Francisco, come back to Raymond Johnson ."
    Almost immediately, Me Too, a boat whose crew I knew from Marina de la Paz , responded, listened to what I had to say, and changed course in my direction.
    The water was too deep to anchor, so I held my position as Me Too approached close enough so we could talk boat to boat. There were three people onboard and, since they trailed a dinghy, one of them volunteered to run over and check out the unresponsive boat.
    I sighed again. Valuable daylight was burning, and time and tide wait for no woman.
    While I waited to find out if I was going to have to tow the boat into La Paz, I radioed Marina de la Paz and told them I was checking out a sailboat that might be disabled, and would need help once I got into the channel. I also said I'd be late arriving, and they suggested I go to a side tie on the outside dock until the next morning, when conditions would be more favorable for me to dock. Relieved, I relaxed and called Jenks on my cell phone, now that I had a signal.
    Left a message.
    Called Jan.
    Left a message.
    Called Mom and Dad.
    Left a message.
    Gave up.
     
    Jill, the woman from Me Too, returned to tell me there was no one on board the drifter, so I called Marina de la Paz again, told them the name of the boat, and that I would be towing her in. They said they'd report the problem to the Port Captain and asked me to monitor Channel 16 so I could be contacted, maybe by the Mexican Navy. Anyhow, someone would meet me near the channel entrance and take over the tow.
    Unable to bring my heavy fiberglass panga, Se Vende, on board my boat, and not wanting two boats trailing behind me, I asked the four sailors to help me side-tie Carpe Diem to Raymond Johnson for an easy tow in the slight seas and light wind .
    I chugged slowly for port hoping against hope conditions did not change before the handoff. As it was, should trouble arise, I could easily cut Carpe Diem loose and let someone else come and get her.
    Boats from all over the area had evidently followed my radio conversations, and a few called to let me know they were available to help when I neared the channel if need be. I thanked them all, then told them I couldn't chat because I had to monitor 16. Nevertheless, inquisitiveness being in my genes, I set my radio on scan and listened in. Speculation was all over the charts, from Carpe Diem slipping anchor while the owner was in the water, to whether yet another diver had fallen victim to a giant squid attack.
    The idea that the owner might be stranded on one of the islands sounded better to me than his being dragged overboard, shredded like pulled pork and eaten by a monstrous Red Devil.
    My grandmother always said nosiness should be my middle name, and who am I to argue with a sweet old lady? About thirty minutes into the slow tow, Grandma proved right, and curiosity got the best of me.
    Since Carpe Diem was side-tied to my boat, boarding her wasn't all that hard. I put Raymond Johnson in neutral, let her idle, and dropped down onto the sailboat's deck. I'd hitched Po Thang's harness to a stanchion so he couldn't follow, since one nosy critter on an abandoned boat is enough. I did, however, have to listen to his bellyaching as I prowled around looking for clues.
    The first thing I noticed was what looked like blood smears in the cockpit, but that is not all that unusual on cruising boats, and given the three fishing poles hanging off the back, this sailor liked to fish. He might have snagged one and not cleaned up. But still.
    The hatch leading down into