At eleven that morning they observed a small plane flying south. It circled low around Vagabond, which made Neil uneasy, and he called everyone together to discuss tactics for repelling pirate attacks. They had only three weapons, the 9mm pistol with four dozen bullets, Macklin’s .45 with two dozen bullets, and the .38 revolver with two bullets. They were “short on artillery,” as Olly had phrased it. They decided their flare gun could appear to be a fourth weapon. They talked about the possible ways they might be attacked, and Neil assigned them to various defensive positions with standing orders on how to respond in various contingencies.
By one o’clock they were only about a half-mile off from the ragged line where surf was breaking against the outer reef. They were sailing south-southeast along this barrier, and low islands were visible across the emerald lagoon beyond the reef. When they came within clear sight of an abandoned lighthouse, Neil was able to verify their landfalclass="underline" they were off Man-of-War Cay. The next opening in the reef was six miles down and led into Marsh Harbor, the most populous town on Great Abaco. Neil knew that they had to land for food and water, but before he decided on whether to try to sneak in for supplies, or sail to Nassau, or bypass the Bahamas completely, he hoped to be able to talk to someone on one of the local boats.
An hour later the gloom that had accompanied the first hours of their fresh contact with land deepened when they sailed past the marked channel leading into Marsh Harbor. They could see the town and a few boats anchored in the cove and at the dock. They sailed past. They were outcasts.
After another mile Neil ordered Jeanne to bring them about to head offshore and avoid the reef. As soon as they had tacked, he noticed a launch speeding toward them from the Marsh Harbor inlet. Neil ordered them to take their prearranged defensive positions: Jeanne, Lisa, and Skippy below amidships with smoke flares, Neil standing in the aft cabin hatchway holding Macklin’s .45, Frank in the fore-peak hatch with the .38 revolver, Jim in the starboard cabin hatchway with the Navy 9mm pistol, and Tony in the port cabin hatchway with the flare gun. Captain Olly was with Katya at the helm. They all kept their meager weapons momentarily out of sight, their intent being to create the illusion of having four heavily armed men on guard at four widely separated points.
Neil, standing on the second step of his cabin, with his head and shoulders sticking out above the cabin opening, clutching the .45 in his right hand, watched the launch approaching them from the left. It had a machine gun mounted on the foredeck, manned by two black men. As the launch slowed down he saw in the cockpit two additional black men, one studying Vagabond through binoculars. When the launch swung up behind them, Neil saw that the second man in the cockpit, who was wearing white shorts and shirt in contrast to the khakis and jeans of the others, smile a big, white-toothed smile at Vagabond. Neil had the momentary absurd idea that he was about to shout, “Welcome to the Bahamas!”
Instead the launch pulled up broadside to Vagabond, holding off about thirty feet. For perhaps fifteen seconds the men on the two” ships contemplated each other, their two vessels slicing serenely through the water, side by side, at five knots. Captain Olly broke the silence.
“Hi, there, fellas,” he shouted amiably. “How they hanging?”
As far as Neil could tell, the launch was manned only by the four black men already visible, all of whom looked back at Captain Olly blankly.
“We need some food and water,” Captain Olly went on. “You fellas know where we can get some?”
“Where you headed, mon?” the officer, whom Neil had seen grinning, shouted back.
“Puerto Rico,” Captain Olly replied. “Where you fellas headed?”
“You have permit for Bahamian waters?” the officer asked.
“Shit, no,” Captain Olly replied. “We’re heading for Puerto Rico.”
“No weapons permitted in Bahamian waters,” the officer shouted. “You have weapons aboard?”
“No weapons,” Captain Olly replied, heading Vagabond into the wind and slowing her up some.
“We will board you then for routine inspection,” said the officer, grinning.
“You try to board us,” Captain Olly replied in the same easygoing tone, “and we’ll blast you all to kingdom come.”
The white-toothed smile disappeared from the Bahamian’s face.
“We ain’t got no weapons,” Captain Olly shouted as the two vessels continued slicing through the water side by side. “So you don’t got to inspect us.” Olly grinned. “Course if you do try to board us, we’ll have to sink all four of you fellas.”
The officer turned to the shorter man at his side and they whispered together urgently. The two men with the machine gun were staring back looking for orders.
“What you have to pay for watah, mon?” the officer shouted.
“Got a good Johnson outboard,” Captain Olly replied. “Got some cigarettes.”
“You have gold? Silvah? Jewelry?”
“Maybe,” said Captain Olly. “You selling water?”
“We sell you fifteen gallons of watah,” the officer replied. “You pay in gold, silvah, or diamonds.”
“Can’t we sail in to one of these here little islands and get some water?”
“Not without permit,” the officer replied, grinning. “For permit you must go to Nassau and surrender all your weapons.”
“Need a permit for water, huh?” said Captain Olly. “Seems a little shitty to me.”
“You have gold? Silvah?”
Olly frowned and looked aft at Neil, who shook his head slightly in the negative.
“Not a drop, sonny,” Captain Olly said. “Got some fancy clothes, though, you fellas might like. You like fancy clothes? Also got a bottle of whiskey.”
“I think maybe we go trade, right, mon?” the tall officer said and flashed his smile.
“Right, sonny, but you tell those two fellas with the peashooter to point it forward, okay? I get indigestion staring at the open end of a barrel.”
After the two men manning the gun moved aft, the two boats eased in closer to each other, Captain Olly bringing Vagabond up into the wind. He instructed Jeanne to come up and help Katya prepare the fenders, the four other men maintaining their defensive positions.
When the two ships were secured, Olly went down into Frank’s cabin and brought back up two of his dress suits while Jeanne brought two packs of cigarettes and a half-full whiskey bottle from the main cabin. After the goods were spread out on the cockpit seat, negotiations began. The launch crew had brought up on their deck five three-gallon containers of water. While the grinning officer came aboard to finger the material of Frank’s suits and hold them up to his body to check the size, Captain Olly dipped a finger into each of the water jugs to see that they were fresh and potable. They all tasted heavily chlorinated but drinkable. Olly grimaced each time he sampled the water.