1976

He had fallen in love with Nancy from the first moment he met her in Dago's house. He knew she was something different, certainly not like the other co-eds he had made love to. He remembered reading how Hemmingway said that making love to a woman was as essential to a man's needs as was eating, or breathing, and Harry could see his point. But Nancy held for him something deeper, something everyone searches for, and few rarely find. There was a truth in her that he needed.

By late October Harry, Dago, Nancy, and Don were in Lima Peru. Dago seemed to know a great deal about the area and deftly took them through the city, and to the coast to a small fishing village about fifty miles south of the capital city. The village sat nurtured by a river that ran across the desert from the blue Andes. The village of Xico was once a major hub of the Spaniards in their own quest for gold. These tiny villages retain some of the original architecture they left behind in their search for the Inca gold.

"Within one mile of the protection of the coast and the river, is the harshest desert in South America, if not the world," Dago explained to the crew as they drove along old, rutted dirt roads from Lima to the village. Harry remembered his own experiences here years ago with his father, Alfred, in their search for caves rumored to have housed ancient civilizations before the Incas. They spent a month searching the mountains around Ayacucho and came away with more of an understanding of the effects of heat on the human body than the lost civilization.

They traveled all night and arrived in Xico in the early morning hours and headed for the fishing village along the coast where they had a boat waiting for them. There had to be nearly fifty boats of sizes varying from small rowboats to the larger schooners like the one they would be boarding.

They pulled up to one such boat painted white with blue trim. On the bow was a carved figurehead of a woman riding a dolphin—her paint had faded over the years. The name painted below her was "Ouro Maia"

"This will take us to Chanaral, Chile," Dago said. "Niko here will take good care of us. Next, we will take a train ride to Santiago, and there we will have to hire some means of transport to Vallicia where we will base the operation. We have reservations at a small hotel there."

They met Niko on deck, and he embraced Dago. They spoke Greek together like old friends, almost forgetting there were others with him. He finally introduced Harry and the others to Niko. Niko's his grip was vice-like, and Harry thought he could probably crush a sack full of stones into powder with it if he wished.

"Dago, ask him how long it is to Chanaral Chile," Harry asked.

Dago said something in Greek.

"Two days," Niko said in surprisingly good English, but it sounded more like, "Today's." He smiled brightly, showing his three gold teeth. Niko was in his sixties, at least Harry assumed, it was hard to tell with fisher folk who spend their entire lives in the harsh elements. His hair was black and grey and brushed straight back. It was coarse and thick, fed and watered by the salty air of the Pacific. His nose was long, and he had large ears that stood out. He stood stoutly at 5'6," and commanded great respect from not only the crew, but also the passengers.

They traveled lightly, carrying only what they would need for a month, relying on the local markets for subsequent supplies. The only equipment they had with them was a few metal detectors, a Proton Magnetometer used to detect sub-surface structures, and crude but serviceable surveying tools.

Later that day Harry woke up and felt the boat racing through the water. There was a great deal of commotion on deck.

Nancy and Don had burst into his room in alarm.

"Harry," she said. "I think I heard shooting."

"Okay," he said, trying to chase the sleep out of his head. He got up and sent them back to their rooms, but only Don would go alone. He had to escort Nancy back to her room, a small closet adapted for the use of female travelers. The head was directly across from her bunk.

Then he went upstairs on deck to look around. As he was about to open the door, Dago came running through. "Oh, Harry," he said placing his hand against his chest. He looked worried, and glanced behind him as if someone might be following. "Stay out of sight. I am supposed to be traveling alone, they've already seen me."

Harry looked skeptical, "Who saw you?"

"The Coast Guard," he said. "Or at least their version. More like pirates." Dago pleaded with him to listen. "Trust me, please. The worst is over besides. We have stopped, and they insist on boarding us, but Niko's resisting. He is in open international waters, but you know these people down here, they go by their own rules."

Niko's first mate came down and spoke in rapid Spanish to Dago, who gave a final plea to Harry, "Please, they don't know you are here or else they would come aboard." He turned, and ran topside.

Harry agreed to stay below. He went back to his room and found Nancy standing behind him. She looked up at him with large, frightened brown eyes. "He said they shot one of the crew and needed him above to help explain to the police why they are here."

"Who said that?"

"The mate. To Dago."

"It'll be okay, Nancy," he said, and took hold of her shoulders. He had never touched her before—aside from holding her hand—and had not realized how soft, and petite she was. Beautiful. She looked alluring in her thin t-shirt and boxer shorts, barefoot, and cold. She wrapped her arms around him and held on tightly. "I'm scared," she whispered, and trembled slightly.

He gently put his arms around her. "I think we should be okay."

He looked down at her. Her long, shiny dark auburn hair was parted down the middle in a straight line. He could feel her breathing deeply, and her breasts pressed tightly against his chest felt reassuring.

Here was a young woman, by no means a schoolgirl, who was an outgoing and flirtatious person. Her effusive behavior often seemed naively sexual to her friends and coworkers, and she flirted innocently, with whomever she pleased. To be sure, she was a true academic who could hold her own in the tightest of oratories. The night they met at Dago's, she argued successfully with him about the role of science in government.

He closed the door to his cabin. She tugged shyly at his hands and placed them behind her gently on her lower back. Harry felt things were going too quickly but she seemed responsive, if not in charge of the situation. They kissed, at first lightly, then more passionately, but suddenly she stopped. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

"No," she said. Averting his eyes, she said, "I. I, uh. Goodnight Harry." Then a quick peck on his cheek and then left his room. 

The next morning the boat was calm, and Harry stood on deck looking at the vast blue water. He held a cup of coffee the cook had given him, and he sipped it. He was thinking about the night before.

"You sleep like a dead marlin, Harry," someone spoke suddenly.

Harry turned and saw Niko close behind smiling broadly. He was wearing the same clothes as the day before. He wanted to ask what business the captain was in and thought it might anger him. But what the hell, he figured he was well paid.

"Will we be bothered again before we reach Chile?" Harry asked.

"No, I don't think we will." Niko had lost his accent.

"Your English has improved overnight, Captain."

"Oh yes, well." He shuffled his feet and pushed a piece of seaweed through the bilge holes on the deck sides. "I don't like to give out more than is necessary to strangers. Especially in my business."

"What exactly is your business?"

"Fishing when the fishing's good. It is a small schooner, and mostly we carry passengers. And sometimes they fish."

"Oh. How long have you known Dago?"

"Many, many years. I guess we met..."

Dago Benicia finished the sentence for him. "We met in the late forties, after the war ended. I saved Niko's life once. I was passenger on that freighter you had, remember Niko?"

"Oh sure Dago. ' El Paramo de Vuelo,' The Flying Moor, out of Spain. You called it my garbage scow. I do not know why. It was a beautiful ship. Just a little shot up after the U-boat had its way. That's when you hired me on board."

"I changed Niko's business from hauling cargo to hauling people. Many people were moving to South America after the war, Harry. You should know that. Europeans came over in sheets."

"You mean like Nazis?"

Dago looked insulted, but his expression changed quickly to a smile. "Ex," he said. "They were no longer members of the superior race and came here as simple refugees."