Five hours and fifteen minutes after the plane left Miami the plane went into a circling motion after the fasten seat belt sign flashed on. Properly belted in Dylan leaned toward the window to take a long look at the Pacific Ocean.

"The bridge is huge," Dylan said. "Look at how far away you can see it, Dad. I've seen pictures and it looks like a bridge. I've never seen anything stand out the way it does."

"Because we're so high and looking down at it. It's far more impressive than any photograph I've seen," Clay said.

Being over the ocean, they were flying back toward the city. For two country boys they were getting a glimpse at a larger world. They were from a tiny town and they'd come to the big city. They lost interest in the scenery once the plane was over the Bay and the city was the only thing they could see.

San Francisco was bordered by the Pacific Ocean on one side and San Francisco Bay on the other side. The highway going northward from the airport was like any highway anywhere. It was going on five by the time the taxi was going north. The traffic going into the city was lighter than traffic leaving but both sides of the highway were jammed with cars.

When the cab pulled up in front of the Aztec Hotel, where Bill told Clay to stay, Clay handed over a twenty dollar bill. They stood for a minute in front of the structure. It wasn't very big but it was reasonable and the room was small but tidy.

"You hungry?" Clay asked.

"Yeah, how far do you think two bags of peanuts go, Dad?"

Clay laughed.

"Put your things on the bed and we'll take a look around. Bill said there are a dozen restaurants within a few block of here?"

"Great," Dylan said. "Can we get pizza?"

"We'll get whatever you want?"

"How about one of Mama's meals? I could use one right now."

"Me, too. We'll settle for pizza tonight and I'm afraid we're stuck with whatever they serve on the boat," Clay lamented.

"We should have brought a care package from Mama's kitchen," Dylan said.

The man behind the counter at the hotel directed them to a pizza restaurant a few blocks away. It's where he got his pizza.

It said New York Pizza on the sign out front but it wasn't much different than the pizza at the Pizza Emporium, except for the price. Luckily it was good and after so many hours in the air, they wanted to walk around after dinner.

"Nothing like Fort Myers," Dylan observed.

"Nothing like Tampa either. Lots of shops. Lots of people in a hurry," Clay said.

Sleep came easy after a long day. They'd both were up at the crack of dawn that morning.

Once they got up the next morning, after refreshing showers, they got breakfast at a restaurant they'd passed the day before and after eating they took a cab to drop them at the address where the Horizon was docked. The vessel was the right size to fit at a dock between huge warehouses on San Francisco Bay.

It was Clay's habit to reconnoiter a locations ahead of time. He liked knowing where he was going before it was time to be there. It was hard not to walk down and look at the Horizon. It was going to be there home. They weren't expected until tomorrow. He didn't want to be seen or to disrupt the activities of a ship being ready to sail but he wanted a quick look at it.

Besides, they had a city to see and San Francisco was small enough to walk to many of the most famous sites.

One of Clay's favorite movies was Bullitt. It had one of the most famous chase scenes ever put on film. It began inside the city with an intensity that was building once the cop Bullitt sees he's being followed. With a few nifty moves, he's following the followers.

As the chase is about to begin, it shows the passenger inside the car Bullitt is following. As soon as his seat belt clicks, you know it's on. They're off in downtown San Francisco traffic. Up and down the hill they go. then they're out on one of the freeways. The Dodge Charger Bullitt is following finally crashes into a gas station and everything blows up as Bullitt ends up in a ditch across the freeway.

Clay, to this day, can't breathe while watching that chase.

Now, he's standing in front of the Mark Hopkins Hotel, Top of the Mark,where it all started. It gives Clay chills to be there. This was worth a trip to San Francisco.

"What's this place, Pop?"

"Famous hotel. It's in a lot of movies set in San Francisco. A very famous chase scene begins here when a cop, Bullitt, is retracing the steps of a murder victim and witness he was supposed to protect."

"Bullitt! I saw that movie," Dylan said. "Yeah I remember the McQueen guy going inside," Dylan said.

"When did you ever see Bullitt?" Clay asked.

"Pop took me one time when you were in DC. We went to Fort Myers. It was playing in a theater and we went to see it. Kewl chase. Pop told me he liked the chase scene. Kewl movie."

"Yes, it was very kewl," Clay said.

He wondered what else he didn't know about his son.

Lombard Street had more twists and turns than any street Clay had ever seen. A trip down Powell Street meant the cable cars and Fisherman's Wharf. There were hundreds of shops along the way and people hoped on and off the trolley like that's how it was done.

Living on the Gulf of Mexico, he didn't think of eating seafood anywhere else but the seafood platter at the first restaurant they saw was fine dining. The ice tea kept coming and so did the customers. That place was packed when they arrived and it was packed when they left an hour later.

They wouldn't make a habit of flying to California to eat the seafood but they both went away stuffed. After lunch they got as far as the benches that faced the Bay. They needed to sit down and let the food digest before they went back to sightseeing, but they got an eye full even when they were sitting still.

"They kept men out there," Dylan said, looking at Alcatraz.

"Ah, yes. Man has no equal when it comes to punishing his own. I can't imagine more despair than being on an island in the middle of the Bay. There is Devil's Island. That's worse," Clay said.

"There's the bridge," Dylan said, pointing out Golden Gate Bridge. "Not quite as impressive as from the air."

"It's pretty impressive," Clay said, having seen pictures of it for years but the sight was far more inspiring. Man did have his moments, and building that bridge was one of those."

"Will we see Alcatraz from the Horizon?" Dylan asked. "When we sail tomorrow? I imagine we'll pass fairly close to it."

"I don't know what we'll see. The Horizon is docked off to our right. I can't see any other way it can go. To get to the ocean we need to go into the bay and out under that bridge," Clay thought as he spoke.

"We'll go under the bridge?"

"I expect we will. I really don't know, Dylan."

"I hope we go under it. That would be a view worth having," Dylan said. "We flew over it. I'd like to sail under it. Maybe we'll come back one day and drive over it and see what's north of the city."

"Sailing under it will be an interesting view of the massive structure," Clay said.

The day was filled with newness. Sightseeing with Dylan, seeing places he'd known about for most of his life, and seeing them with his son, made the seeing of them more special. The only thing missing was Ivan. Maybe the three of them would return one day.

Once again the sleeping was easy the day they saw the city. They walked almost all day. By the time they hit the sack, they were ready for a good night's sleep.

Tomorrow they'd meet the Horizon.

They took a cab to Fisherman's Wharf at one. They had lunch at a different seafood restaurant with the same result. Everything was delicious. They flagged down a cab in front of the restaurant and it dropped them next to the dock.

The excitement had been building since getting up that morning. Clay was told to arrive between two and three. They needed to be on board before three, when the ship was scheduled to leave.

The Horizon got bigger the closer they got to it, until they were looking up at it from near the gangway. They couldn't wait to get underway on a ship way bigger than Sea Lab.

They were about to embark on a journey of a lifetime. They were going to see the Pacific Ocean and spend the next six weeks on it and in it. It was the most exciting thing either of them had done.

They lived exciting lives by going into the Gulf two or three days a week. What they saw on those days would knock most people's socks off, but this, this would be as exciting as anything they'd done, and for a marine biologist. this was the cat's meow.

This was an entirely new ball game and a new and bigger body of water. They'd leave land behind and live on the water for nearly two months. It was an invigorating prospect to say the least.

Clay and Dylan walked up the boarding ramp with their bags in hand. Dylan's backpack carried the underwater motion picture camera carefully packed with his underwear and socks to cushion it. They put down their bags on the deck. They'd wait for someone to give them instructions.

They could see activity on the deck. They put their bags next to a nearby entryway at the top of the gangway. They'd been noticed and a rather large young man was coming down a ladder that led up to the bridge. Once his feet hit the deck, he walked straight to Clay.

"I'm Rolf. You must be Clay and Dylan. Welcome aboard the research ship Horizon. Bill is below. He'll join us once we get underway. He'll feel the motion and know you're on board. A last minute delivery of equipment has him securing it below. I hope your trip was pleasant," Rolf said.

"If riding in a tin can for over five hours can be pleasant, I guess it was, Rolf. The main thing is it got us here and for that I'm grateful"

"Don't worry about your bags. Leave them right there and I'll make sure they are in your cabin by the time Bill takes you to see your accommodations. The ship was refitted as a research ship between 1976 and 1978. All the accommodations are the same quality as you find on most large yachts. Mr. John Sinclair arranged for the Caspian, once a freighter, to be turned into the research ship Horizon. He endowed it to Bill's university with the understanding that Bill conduct his research from it in the world's waterways. I think you'll find everything to be first class. Mr. Sinclair was not a man who tolerated anything second class."

"Sounds like my kind of guy," Clay said. "I have a far less substantial research vessel. I appreciate the men who provide them."

"Don't we all," Rolf said. "My father, Captain Hertzog, captained Mr. Sinclairs yacht, and don't get the wrong impression, it was only a little shorter than the Horizon. It measured out at 183 feet. Once Mr. Sinclair commissioned the Horizon, he stipulated that my father would have the right of first refusal to captain it. My father accepted and now his two sons, moi and Dolf, are seaman under his command. I saw Mr. Sinclair from a distance but I never worked for him."

"A family affair," Clay said. "Why didn't Mr. Sinclair wish to have your father continue as the captain of his yacht?"

"Mr. Sinclair was dying of cancer. By the time the Horizon was ready for its maiden voyage, Mr. Sinclair was dead. He supervised the refitting of the Horizon right down to the laboratories within it. He left a rather substantial fund to supply and maintain Mr. Payne with state of the art equipment for as long as any of us will be alive. Mr. Sinclair, after years of the kind of industry that does a lot of polluting, he needed to do something to counteract his negative impact on the seas, The man did love being out on his yacht."

"He couldn't have picked a better man to be in charge of his research ship. Bill taught me to be a marine biologist. He is one of the smartest men I know," Clay said.

"He has said the same of you," Rolf said, giving Clay a short bow.

"He's too kind, Rolf," Clay retorted.

"And smart. I find that most of what he says is based on facts," Rolf said.

"My father is the smartest man I know," Dylan said.

"I have to pay him five dollars every time he tells someone that," Clay said, handing Dylan a five dollar bill.

Rolf laughed while thinking Clay was probably joking.

Dylan took the bill while giving his father a curious look.

"I see this is going to be a most interesting voyage," Rolf said.

"My son might be a little prejudiced on the subject," Clay said. "Sons often are. He does get a closer look at what I do than anyone."

"The engines of running and we only need to wait for Greek to arrive. He's doing last minute shopping at the open market. He insists on the freshest of everything. If he isn't on time, my father might make him walk the plank. We leave promptly at three."

"I'll take everything you just said with a grain of salt," Clay said.

"Walk the plank?" Dylan asked as he stood just behind his father's right shoulder.

"Well, he'd make him go to bed without dessert but since Greek runs the kitchen, you can see my father's dilemma," Rolf said. "My father and Greek go way back. On the maiden voyage of some ship he once signed onto, Greek came on board, at the last minute, and he's towing two medium size lambs. Each has its own rope. My father says, "I don't know who you are but there are no pets allowed on this boat."

Greek looked my father over and he says, 'You ain't going to last long, sonny, if you don't know the difference between a pet and your dinner."

They ended up friends, my father and Greek, not the lambs. Dad likes food too much to cross the cook."

"That I believe. What happened to those lambs?" Clay asked.

"Dad being an animal lover kept them hidden until they made port and he took them to the market and gave them to one of the farmers who promised to raise them to a ripe old age. Rule is, we eat nothing that comes on the Horizon under its own power. Greek doesn't like it but he stopped arguing about it but the Greek does like fresh ingredients. You'll see what I mean at dinner."

"I'm sure we should have brought a lunchbox," Dylan said.

Rolf laughed.

"Greek's meals will dazzle your taste buds, Sonny Boy. He's an amazing cook," Rolf said. "In case you haven't guessed, part-time, I entertain the guests. He's been with my father, Captain Hertzog, I'm Rolf Hertzog, for years."

Clay liked the sounds of Captain Hertzog. If he was anything like his son he'd be entertaining.

While we wait do you have any questions?"

"Yes, you said that the Horizon was once a freighter."

"It was. The Caspian. It was originally built shortly before World War II. It was a typical freighter in her time. She was refitted to become a naval supply ship during the war. She carried everything from bombs to toothpicks. Mostly she worked in the Pacific. She went back to being a freighter after the war. Then the owner decided it was the ship he would refit as a floating laboratory for Bill Payne in the later 70s. That took a couple of years to accomplish. The only original part of the ship is the hull and the anchor chain. The rest is new as of 1977-78 when the refitting was done."

The Horizon wasn't a large ship. Compared to ships anchored in the Bay, she was rather small. Small enough to be snuggled in among the warehouses. As a research vessel it was well equipped to do the job it was built to do.

It's crew, counting the cook, was less than ten. There were four passengers who would contribute to the ship's summer mission.

"The cook's worth waiting for?" Dylan wanted to know.

"Yes, since his first trip on the Horizon, he signs on with us each summer. He likes the civilized nature of a research ship. With as many professional men as crew, they're more appreciative of his talent," Rolf informed them. "He goes by Cookie or the Greek."

When Rolf looked down the dock, Clay and Dylan looked to. A woolly looking man was coming their way in a rush.

"Speaking of the devil, here he comes," Rolf said. "Better late than never, Cookie."

"Your lucky I came at all," the hairy man yelled back. "Be ready to lend a hand. I got my groceries right behind me. If you don't want to live on beans this summer, tell your daddy to hold his horses."

"My horses do just fine without you, Greek," a tall man with a a graying beard said from the catwalk around the bridge.

"Says groceries are coming, Pop," Rolf said to Captain Hertzog.

"It's nine minutes to three. He's early. Help him get whatever is coming into the kitchen. Welcome aboard."

The Captain directed toward Clay and Dylan.

"You'll need to forgive me. I need to get underway. I'll have the passengers up for proper introductions once we're at sea," he said before disappearing back onto the bridge.

"That's my father," Rolf said.

"Impressive looking man," Clay said, thinking he once saw him in a movie.

Greek was right out of the movies, although Rolf called him Cookie several times. The man looked like he belonged in a galley on a pirate ship keeping the cast of characters under control.

"I'm Greek. Who are you?" Greek asked.

"I'm Clay and this is my son, Dylan."

"Oh, Bill's people. Yeah, I heard of you," he said. "You do in the Gulf what Bill does out here."

"I do," Clay said. "Can we lend a hand?"

"No, No, you're guests. Those scallywags are paid to be here.

Greek was five foot six with beefy arms and a barrel chest. His beard was flecked with gray and he had hairy arms. He took charge. There was no doubt he'd done this before.

There were a dozen produce boxes delivered by six men who had to be coaxed up the gangway to drop the produce on the deck.

"Rolf, where's Dolf? You two get those boxes into the cooler. I'll need to take care unpacking them. Don't drop them. Place them on the floor in four stacks. You understand me?" Greek said walking past the boxes that looked like small crates.

"Hey, Little Brother, these are Bill's boys. The old one is Clay and the young one is Dylan," Rolf said with two containers in his hands, disappearing into the passageway where Greek had gone.

"I'm Dolf. He's my brother," Dolf said, picking up too containers.

"So I gathered," Clay said, wanting to help but not sure he should.

"This trip is going to be interesting," Dylan said, not missing the characters they'd seen so far.

As Clay and Dylan walked toward the stern to get an idea of the size of the ship, Rolf and Dolf finished with the produce, Rolf put his arm in the air and made a circular motion above his head as he whistled while facing the bridge.

Rolf and Dolf brought in the gangway and two rough looking men appeared beside the Horizon to cast off the mooring lines.

The engines were already running when Clay and Dylan arrived but they couldn't ell it. Once the lines were secured they felt a shudder under their feet and the ship began to move.

"The vibration is from Dad engaging the ship's engines. We'll be entering the Bay momentarily. Bill's on the way up. He knows you are on board because we're moving," Rolf said.

The ship angled away from the pier and toward San Francisco Bay. The deck was steady under them as the warehouses were left behind. The ship moved slowly and straight ahead. The speed increased only slightly as sights and sounds abounded all around them. Boats were all around them. Mostly they were smaller craft dodging in and out between larger vessels. Horizon moved steadily forward.

The city was more above them than beside them and the Bay was alive with activity and the Horizon kept moving straight ahead. Clay knew where the ocean was and he expected a turn in that direction as Alcatraz appeared not far off the port side. They were going to get a real closeup of the Rock.

Dylan didn't notice. He was busy looking up at San Francisco rising above them. It was one of the most amazing sights he'd seen. The city did go halfway to the stars.

Both Clay and Dylan were excited since arriving in the city. That excitement was intensified by getting underway. This was going to be a summer of adventures and leaving the Bay was where it started.

The ship cleared the warehouse and the dock, going from the shadows into brilliant sunlight. It was a beautiful day for a boat ride. The view of the city became even more wondrous the further into the Bay they sailed. Its hills and structures reached toward the sky.

Once it got far into the Bay the Horizon began a long lazy left turn. It was now heading directly west. You could tell you were moving by watching the stillness of structures they passed. There was no feeling of motion at three or four knots.

The Horizon's deck was steady as a rock.

Alcatraz, another kind of rock, was being passed. It stayed on the port side. They were close enough to see the windows in that ugly structure. They could imagine the lonely eyes of despair that once stared out at passing ships.

A narrow road went from the dock up the hill to towering gates that now stood half open. Those were truly the gates of hell for the bad men who were sent there. Nothing moved except for seagulls circling overhead there was no other sign of life. Nothing to indicate how hard the Rock was on men who lived and died there.

It looked like a very hard place.

The Horizon glided buy that rock and everyone on the deck turned to look forward over the bow. A truly magnificent sight had come into view. The Golden Gate Bridge began to get larger until it dominate the skyline. Even fifteen or twenty minutes away, it's what grabbed everyone's attention. They were going to sail right under it.

So awe inspiring were the sights, no one had anything to say until the Horizon was on a westerly course and the best part of a half hour from the ocean where they'd spend their summer.

As the initial work was completed, crew members came out on deck. Each looked forward over the bow as soon as they were in a position to see what was ahead. They all looked at the same thing.

There were a half dozen crew members who moved forward to stand on either side of the bow. No matter how many times they saw it, no one tired of seeing one of the modern wonders of the world. Man designed and built that bridge and men who knew hard work refused to ignore what had been done here.

"It's always the same," Rolf said. "You can't help but watch it growing on the horizon. There's something hypnotic about it. Especially for men going to sea. It's the last sign of civilization many see for weeks and sometimes months to come."

The three of them had moved out of the way of the crew. They leaned on the railing in a row. All their eyes were on the same thing.

"Don't know what's keeping Bill. We're still fifteen minutes away, but once we cross under the bridge it's open sea," Rolf said.

"The say nearly three dozen men died building it," Rolf said.

"Men died building that bridge?" Dylan asked.

"Same as in New York City when they build those skyscrapers. Steel workers walk on the steel beams they put down. Hundreds of feet in the air and they're walking around on those narrow beams. Once in a while," Rolf said, making a whistling sound and angling his hand down toward the water, he whistled the end result.

"That didn't happen," Dylan said.

"As God is my witness. I wasn't born yet and this bridge hadn't been started when men fell off those skyscrapers," Rolf testified. "Not just New York City. Anywhere there are skyscrapers. Same with The Gate. Only when they were building it back in the 1930s, men had lines to tie themselves to the structure. Once in a while someone would forget to tie himself off or the rope would break when a man's full weight yanked him into space and a fatal dive."

Rolf made the whistling sound, angling his hand downward.

"But it's only water below the bridge," Dylan protested.

"You fall from two hundred feet and it's like falling on concrete. Your body slams into it with an incredible force," Rolf said.

Dylan looked away from Rolf and back at the bridge. He was trying to process the idea that men died while building it. In Dylan's young mind men didn't die at work, and yet he knew what he and his father did had danger in it. His father didn't let him forget it.

"Every part of the construction was as hazardous as anything ever built," Rolf said. "They had no idea at the time that they were building one of the modern wonders of the world and some men died doing it."

"The Gate? You called it the gate. Why?" Clay asked.

"The Golden Gate Bridge," Rolf said. "It's the gateway to the Pacific Ocean. You didn't know that? That's the gate in Golden Gate."

"I never gave it any thought. It makes perfect sense, I live a world away from here. Something that's logical for the people out here isn't even part of our thought process in Florida," Clay said.

"When did Sinclair decide Bill was the one to have the Horizon?"

"In 1978 Mr. Sinclair decided I was the man to do my research from the Horizon. We spent months designing my two laboratories and a film laboratory. We consulted the finest minds working on environmental protection to make sure the Horizon was furnished with state of the art technology. There is a ten million dollar trust to keep me in the latest tools of the trade," Bill said. "Clay, how wonderful to see you."

Bill had come out on the deck near the entryway where the first stood. He spoke as he rushed toward him. The two shook hands before it became a hug.

Rolf and Dylan stood back

"Just entertaining the guests until you came on deck. I'll be going forward to get an unobstructed view," Rolf said, walking away.

"Yes, we don't want to miss the bridge. I had things to stow before I came on deck. I'm sorry I wasn't here to greet you. You did bring your son. He'll learn a lot on this voyage. He's so big," Bill said.

"I wanted to thank you for inviting me, Mr. Payne," Dylan said.

Bill offered his hand and they shook.

"Please, I'm Bill. You call me Mr. Payne and I might not respond. Everyone calls me Bill, Dylan."

Dylan looked at his father for guidance.

"You call Harry Harry. If Bill wants you to call him Bill it's fine with me," Clay said.

"Let's go see the bridge," Bill said, leading the way.

As they moved forward the bridge had become gigantic. It towered over the Horizon and everything else. They were moving in slow motion and the bridge just got bigger until they were passing under it.

Looking up at the superstructure of the bridge was not a sight everyone got to see.

"Something mystical about this spot," Bill said in a short prayer.

"Because so many died building it?" Dylan asked.

"I've never come up with a reason why. I believe you have hit on something, Dylan. The lives lost here are still part of this bridge. Of course some essence of those men was left here because of the nature of how they died."

"It's difficult to imagine the courage and tenacity of men who built it," Clay said.

"The Great Pyramids give me the same feeling," Bill said. "I didn't understand why until this minute. The souls of the men who created the structures is part of them. What a magnificent thought."

As the Horizon cleared the Golden Gate Bridge and faced the open Pacific ahead of them, a incredibly large aircraft carrier was making the turn into the Bay. It was still five or six miles ahead, but the gray navy ship was immense. All eyes were now on the ship that joined the Horizon in that narrow waterway.

The closer they got the larger the aircraft carrier became.

"There is nothing like a floating city to make a tiny freighter tip its bow," Bill said.

The Horizon reacted to the massive ship as it came nearer. For the first time they could tell there was water under them.

"CVN-70," Clay read.

"The Carl Vinson," Bill said. "She's heading toward Alameda. She's coming up from San Diego. That's her home port. You are looking at the Nimitz-class super-carrier. It's brand new. Commissioned last year I believe."

"Whose Carl Vinson," Dylan asked.

"Politician. He died in 81. Spent fifty years in the house of representatives. Big advocate for the Navy," Bill said.

"You think Harry will have a ship named after him one day?" Dylan asked.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Bill said. "The USS McCallister. Has a nice ring to it."

"If Harry would sit still for it," Clay said. "It's a bit pretentious for Harry."

"Yes, but as we age, Clayton, our vanity gets larger. How many men have a US naval ship named after them?"

Captain Hertzog gave three short toots of his horn as they were beside the Carl Vinson. The aircraft carrier gave off three tremendous blasts from its many horns. The men on the Horizon's began to cheer that such a ship would toot back.

There was a lot to be happy about. They'd sailed our of one of the most beautiful cities in the world and were entering the the world's most massive ocean.

The Horizon was heading directly west. The Pacific Ocean had a noticeable roll to it. Dylan's stomach began to roll with it.

The visiting was non stop as Bill and Clay talked shop, making an attempt to catch up.

"We can go below. Get some coffee. I'll show you the ship once we've caught up. It is so good to see you, Clayton. You have become quite a fine looking man, and Dylan, I'm so glad you brought him along," Bill said as he led his guests to the galley.


Send Rick an email at quillswritersrealm@yahoo.com

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