MY brother, Jim, and I were cruising through the Federated States of Micronesia in Adaline a few years back when I decided to stop in and see Bob, an old friend who ran a scuba shop. I won’t mention the island in order to protect the innocent, but it should be enough to know that it was near Chuuk lagoon.
After we arrived and tied off at the marina, I noticed that a few slips over sat a vessel that belonged to Eric and Courtney Keane, a couple in Hawaii. I thought it was strange that the Keanes should venture this far out, especially this time of year, but I looked forward to catching up with them as well as my scuba buddy.
After a few beers at the marina bar and a few loads of laundry, we made our way to the scuba shop. As we entered, I caught the eye of Bob who was helping three Americans, whom I quickly nicknamed Moe, Larry and Curly in my mind. Based on their questions, they did not know a thing about diving, and Bob was doing his polite best to tell them so. They were asking odd questions about wreck diving and treasure hunting when it was clear they had not even been through open-water certification.
When I asked where the Keanes were, that I saw their boat tied up at the marina, the three pulled out weapons and the game was up. It was these three who had arrived on that boat, and they were all criminals. They had obviously done something to anger the locals, because the shop was soon surrounded by an angry mob who wanted to get their hands on them.
When a local chief approached the door, Moe shot him dead. He didn’t even ask what he wanted.
“Are you crazy!” I yelled. A move so stupid could only get us killed.
“There, now you will help us get out of here. They’ll think we’re all together,” Moe replied. “We can’t get our boat to work right, so we put in here, thinking maybe this scuba boy here could help us out. But you have a newer boat, don’t ya? So, you are taking us out of here.”
“I will not, and that is not your boat. Where are the Keanes?” I said, trying to act tough.
Then Curly pulled out a knife and said he would show me what happens to people who get tough. Referring to the Japanese mafia, he said, “I learned something from watching those yakuza movies.” Then he cut off my toe. The pinky toe in the right foot. I thought nothing could hurt more than stubbing your little toe but that is nothing compared to having it cut off.
Probably hearing me scream, the locals chose that moment to storm the shop, and Moe, Larry, and Curly ran out the back door as the mob came in the front. Moe was right about one thing: the mob assumed we were all working together, because they pasted Jim, Bob and me really well.
Having been beaten twice now, I decided enough was enough. I correctly guessed that the three criminals had made for the marina and were trying to start Adaline. I told the mob to follow me and we would catch their real enemies. When we got to the boat, Moe yelled out, “How do you start this damn thing!” and waved his gun in my direction.
“Killing me will get you nowhere. Only I can start Adaline, so it is over for you.”
I could see in his eyes that he contemplated trying to shoot his way out of there, but he quickly concluded it was hopeless. With no boat and limited ammunition, they were out of options.
After the locals saw the way Moe threatened and shouted at me, they realized who was with who, and we were spared any further beatings. They laughed in amazement when I climbed aboard Adaline and turned the secret kill switch, installed for occasions just like this one.
Moe, Larry and Curly were thrown in the jail, and it turned out that the Keanes had offered a reward for their boat. Unfortunately, it was not enough to have my little toe reattached.
BC Cook, PhD lived on Saipan and has taught history for 20 years. He currently resides on the mainland U.S.
BC Cook
