Not at all obvious were the electronics that were added at Kamal’s specific request.
There was a radar system attached on the top spreader of the mast. Also an autopilot was connected to a state of the art Global Positioning System navigation unit.
Kamal was quite bored during his long voyage and he spent a lot of time refining the operation of the electronics.
He was finally able to connect the radar to the autopilot. If the radar detected another vessel the boat would automatically make small changes of course to keep away from the other craft.
With these refinements to the craft, Kamal was able to sleep soundly when the need arose. He did not have a formal sleep pattern, and he sometimes chose to sleep during the day rather than at night.
Surprise was making good headway. Sails were rigged on a beam reach, but the seas were quite choppy with a swell of around four feet. This was the same for two days now, and Kamal just had to sleep. He kept dozing without the deep sleep he craved. Perhaps it was his interest in the old U-140 german submarine log book that pushed sleep to the background, so he just lay in his bunk trying to understand the book.
Eventually, he fell asleep with the book on his chest. He was in his third hour of deep slumber. The boat came down off a wave, but this time there was a loud clunk, and the boat stopped dead in the water and spun sideways.
Kamal fell from his bunk onto the floor such was the impact, the book tossed aside. He hit his head on the bulkhead on the way down and blacked out. He woke up dazed from the fall, but managed to get up and make his way topsides.
Kamal looked over the side railing. The boat was now beating against the side of a partially submerged shipping container.
These containers sometimes fall from container ships in rough seas. They are of course quite heavy, but the air trapped inside ensures they float, often just below the surface of the sea and remain a hazard to other vessels.
Kamal immediately dropped the sails and the engine fired at the first press of the starter. He backed away and around the large dark shape that bobbed up and down in the water.
His first concern was to see if the boat was taking on water. There was a float switch operated electric bilge pump that was designed to pump out any water that leaked into the hull below decks. Kamal pulled up one of the removable sections of the flooring for a visual check, there was a little water, but that was not uncommon as some water always seeped in around the seals on the propeller shaft.
The adrenalin was coursing through his veins to the extent that any further sleep was impossible. Kamal put just the main sail back up and resumed his course, steering manually for the rest of the night. Every couple of hours he checked again for leaks, but all looked ok. Skies were clear, but the wind was still blowing hard.
Early the next morning the wind dropped. It was a beautiful day with the sun shining brightly. There was hardly any noise at all as the boat slowed almost to a stop in the water.
Kamal heard an electrical whine and wondered what it was until he heard the telltale splash of water from the side of the boat as the electric bilge pump automatically emptied the water from the hull. Kamal nearly kicked himself as he realized that the pump had been working as expected and that was why there was little water in the hull when he checked previously. With the strong winds, he had not been able to hear the intermittent purr of the pump.
Kamal dropped the sail, held onto the safety rail and tried to see if there was any visible damage to the hull. Some paint had been scuffed from the side, but the main impact would have been under the centre of the boat near the keel.
There was a diving facemask in the locker below and Kamal now removed his clothes, donned the mask and tied a long rope around the mast with the other end tied around his waist. Then he lowered himself over the side to take a look.
Kamal was grateful for the decision to paint the hull a dark color, as the damage was evident at first glance. There was a huge gouge and the white gel coat was showing through. The main damage seemed to be where the line of the keel dropped from the rest of the hull. This was the start of the point where the keel was filled solid with lead and resin so it was probably the strongest point on the vessel. At closer inspection, there did seem to be a small crack in the hull at this point.
There was no possibility of slipping the boat for repairs, so Kamal pulled himself back aboard to consider his limited options.
He could cancel his operation and return to North Korea for repairs, or he could continue. Really this was not much of a choice at all so Kamal decided to move forward.
To reduce the possibility of further damage, he decided to reef sails when the wind was strong. In effect, this reduced the sail area and slowed the boat, reduced the battering received from the waves. He keep checking that the small electric pump was coping with the water seeping in and all seemed in order. There was also a manual bilge pump that he could use as a last resort.
Later that day Kamal logged on to the internet via his satellite modem. He received an email from an anonymous hotmail account. It read:
The birthday party is coming up soon. Be ready in 6 days.
Kamal’s timeframe had always been uncertain. He had a contact on the inside that would let him know when the time was right.
Kamal went below deck and pulled some charts onto the table. He measured some distances off the chart and found he was early. He had a couple more days to get in position.
He programmed some additional waypoints into the GPS. This changed his approach a little moving further south before changing course for the Californian coast. Hopefully this would further mask his port of origin particularly from any prying satellites that may be searching for a small boat on the way from North Korea.
Chapter 92
At least this was a short flight. Matt and Natasha were starting to get sick of airline food.
Once again they were using the Exxon cover that had served them well in Russia. There was a constant stream of oil executives jockeying for position in Iran, so they did not expect that their presence would arouse undue suspicion.
In fact, at the airport they were almost treated like royalty. It seemed the Exxon documents opened all doors in a country that lived on oil.
Bill Simpson had organized for a driver called Tommy to be at their disposal, he was waiting for them after customs. Tommy was an American of Persian ancestry and was of course a CIA operative.
"Hello Miss Laurence and Mr. Harrison. Welcome to Iran. My name is Tommy, I will be looking after you" said the strangely dressed little man with a super strong accent. He was wearing a suit on the hottest day Matt had ever experienced.
Tommy noticed Matt was wearing his arm in a sling "What happened to your arm?"
"Too much to drink, I tripped and fell over" explained Matt.
"Ok Tommy, lead away" said Natasha as Tommy took them to his old Mercedes car that may once have been white.
"How did my accent sound?" asked Tommy when they pulled away from the curbside. This time he sounded like he came from Queens.
"Very good Tommy, I could not understand a word you said" said Natasha truthfully.
"Bill has briefed my about Interneta. I checked around a little and I drew a blank. Do you have any ideas?"
"We did find an address on the net. Can you take us here to take a look?" Matt passed a piece of paper over to Tommy who glanced at it and then did a u-turn.