“I’ve also heard very good things about him, though we have never met.”
Pablo had already made a decision. As incredible as it seemed (he had even surprised himself), he had come to the conclusion that if Gabi was better than him, then he should be the captain. And if he wasn’t, then by Nacho’s description, he would make the perfect right-hand man.
“Give me his number.”
#
The next morning, Pablo was driving his VW Golf along the road to Rota. There had been an idea running through his head for the last couple of days. And the day before, he had talked about it to his brothers. After thinking it over and weighing pros and cons, they had encouraged him to try it.
That was why he was going to Grease’s Auto Repair Shop in the town of Rota. The owner, Thomas “Grease” Johnson had been a senior chief (non commissioned officer) mechanic in the US Navy who had retired early at 45 to set up a garage next to the neighboring Rota Naval Base.
The Texan was in love with Spain, and his knowledge of Spanish (as spoken in Texas and some parts of Florida) together with his expertise in engines had turned his workshop into a favorite of Americans on the Base and half the people in Rota.
Pablo had met him while Grease was practicing his other hobby, sailing. No one would have thought that a Texan who loved spark plugs and pistons would be so passionate about a sport that used none of those things. But Pablo knew very few trimmers as good as he was.
Fate had wanted them to be part of the same racing crew for three years and Pablo wanted to exploit that relationship to make the Yankee an unexpected offer.
He had no doubt Grease was the right man to be Albatros’ chief engineer. But even if he knew how to navigate perfectly, the American had no title that allowed him to act as deck officer on a ship of those characteristics. However, he had decided to take it one step at a time. He would solve the deck officers issue later. For now, getting a good chief engineer was essential.
While Pablo parked the car he thought he was having too much luck to try to push it. Someday it would have to end.
With a pull of the parking brake, he erased the bad omens in his mind and got out of the car. When he was a few feet from the shop, a middle-aged man with brown hair, large but not fat, medium height with light skin and eyes and a small mustache under a small nose came in and greeted him with a slight American accent.
“Hey, Pablo. What are you doing here? Is there something wrong with your little car?” he said looking at his VW Golf.
Like most Texans, he was a lover of big cars and, even after all his years in Europe, he continued to make fun of compact cars.
“Huh? No, my car is fine.”
Grease looked puzzled as he shook Pablo’s hand.
“So what brings you here?”
Pablo looked at the bar across the road.
“I’ll buy you a beer.”
“Can’t say no to that,” Grease said.
The two crossed the street under the scorching sun and on entering the bar Pablo went to a secluded table where they could have some privacy. The waiter approached them.
“What can I get for you, gentlemen?” The waiter asked with a strong Andalusian accent.
“Two beers please,” Pablo said, and turning to Grease he asked, “How’s business?”
“It’s going well man, I’m making a profit on the expansion from last year, more and more people come. In fact, I already have six employees.”
“You’ve become quite the businessman!”
“Actually I never dreamed I would do so well,” Grease said. “If I had known it was going to be this good I would have left the Navy long before.”
Pablo began to fear that his plan was ruined.
“Are you telling me you don’t miss sailing?”
Grease looked at him carefully. After a few seconds, it seemed he decided that Pablo would fit within that small circle of comrades to whom he could make a personal confession, although perhaps it was more professional than personal. But that’s the magic of being a seaman, the bonds with your mates, even if you didn’t know them that well.
“I’m not going to lie to you, I’m very happy here, but I do miss sailing, going to distant ports, working in a hierarchical organization and some action every now and again. In addition, the largest engine that’s ever come through that door,” as he nodded toward his workshop, “is not even a tenth of the ones I had on the ships.”
Pablo smiled, that was the eternal topic of the Texan who liked big things.
“Then you may be interested in what I’m about to tell you.”
Grease looked at him curiously. The conversation was taking an unexpected turn.
“Let’s just say I’m part of a novel project and we need someone to take care of the engines.”
Pablo let the information sink in. After a few seconds, Grease continued looking at him in the same manner, educated curiosity, but nothing more. Pablo smiled remembering that Grease was a regular poker player.
He decided to continue, “It’s a boat, about a hundred meters long and I want to modify it so it will reach thirty knots. Right now it has two sixteen-valve MTU engines that go up to twenty-two but at Navantia they’re trying to figure out how to get the extra eight.”
“This could cost you an arm and a leg and will suck more than a puta que no folla.”
Pablo couldn’t help laughing. It was funny to hear vulgar expressions in Spanish coming from the mouth of a foreigner.
“My boss is pretty generous when it comes to expenses.”
“Interesting,” Grease said. “I have a couple of ideas.”
“Well, now that I got your attention, I’ll tell you the whole story.”
Grease sat up in his chair, any attempt at masking his emotions completely forgotten.
“We’re going to the Horn of Africa with a Somali government permit to hunt pirates.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. I’m being completely serious. These pirates must have pissed off someone enough to make them subsidize a genuine privateer to chase after them. Unfortunately for them, this guy is one of the few who can afford it.”
“Is this an official proposal?” Grease asked.
“I’m asking you to be the chief engineer of the ship. If you accept, tomorrow you’ll have to go to Navantia and fight with the engineers to give me what I want. This proposal is as serious as it gets. All I need is my boss’ approval but I don’t think he’ll have a problem.”
And that’s what’s known as “going all in”. Thank God he had the cards to back it up.
“I’m your guy!” cried Grease. “Now tell me a little more about this crazy plan.”
Pablo leaned back in his chair and asked for another round. Now that he had accomplished his goal he could really enjoy his beer.
#
That same evening at home, Pablo picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Pablo, it’s Nacho. I talked to Gabi and he said he wants to talk to you. Write his number down.”
After thinking about it and asking Javi for advice, Pablo had decided it was best that Nacho approach him first. Gabi had gone through a difficult time and the conversation could touch sensitive issues and maybe even become unpleasant.
That’s why he had asked Nacho to call Gabi and explain the situation. He had agreed and it seemed to have gone well.
“At first he was a little stunned,” Nacho said. “Then, when he recovered, the first thing he asked was about you. He said for me to forget you’re my brother and tell him what I know about you as a seaman. I must be a great liar because he wants to talk to you.” Nacho quipped.
“Ha, ha. Thanks a lot, Nacho.”
“It’s nothing, little guy. See you later.”
“Later.”
Pablo looked at the piece of paper. He knew the success of the project could depend heavily on the man whose phone belonged to that number. Pablo saw only two options if Gabi Huesca joined the enterprise. Either he became the commanding officer or his right-hand man. He was not going to find anyone so qualified.
He had considered that the loss of his previous command may have affected Gabi psychologically but Nacho wouldn’t have recommended him if that was the case.