This may come in two writings but I will begin with our trip to Cuba in 1980.

It was mid April in 1980, Key West, Florida. During the night aboard the Western Union, I woke up to hear spainish (Cuban dialect) being spoken loudly and close. John and I ran on deck and in the water next to the boat was a small boat, actually a dingy with a couple of Cubans aboard. They had just come from Cuba! They were asking how they could get ashore. The coast guard showed up on the scene and took over.

But the town was a buzz the next day. Word was that Castro had opened his doors and was letting people go. Cubans and Bahamians settled in Key West for years. The Cuban Americans began loading boats with supplies and going south. We had been approached at least a dozen times with men with briefcases full of money, wanting us to go to Cuba to get their families. Emotions were running high and ours were included. We desperately wanted to help these repressed people. But our ship was licesnsed to carry passengers in the U.S. and we had to protect that license. We could not carry passengers farther than 20 miles off shore. Cuba was 90 miles south of key West. We had to play it safe.

Deals were being made right and left. There was a frenzy all over town. Big money was coming to our sleepy little hacienda! In the next few days or week we noticed lots of out of state cars arriving. The stories coming back from Cuba was that it took three days to go over, get your people and return.

A temporary customs was set up on the pier next to ours where the Cuban refugees were de-loused, cleaned and processed for a bus trip to the mainland.

Finally, we were approached by a woman in Key West who had connections in Cuba. She had some American families (not local) that wanted to go get their families. A deal was struck late one night by three representatives of their group and John.

The deal was, they would pay us a certain amount of money (it would cover what we were in arrears for from Ft Lauderdale) and pay a crew well for three days. We would come home after a maximum of 14 days or if the situation deteriorated. The agreement was verbal only between the three men and John with me there as a witness. It was very dark in the Captain's cabin. The batteries were low and the lighting was dim. The men sat around our "cable wheel" table and discussed the particulars. It looked exactly lkie it was-a clandestine meeting between two parties that could not be put on paper for many reasons.

We would leave the next day.

April 30, 1980, The morning broke with bright sunshine as always but today was different-we would sleep that night on communist waters. Under the control of a dictator and then the number one most hated leader in the world by the US.

Relatives of the people who went over to get their families were beginign to live on the docks. The town was fullof them. Emotions were even higher and anxiety settled in due to the number of Americans who had left their fishing and shrimping to go to Cuba.

We loaded supplies for 14 days as directed by the captain. Ice came aboard (our only refrigeration), we went to Stock Island to fuel up and top off the water tanks. Our pasengers, the people we would live with for the next two weeks came aboard. They were to bring there own food and we would share the use of the stove for one meal a day. This way we were saving fuel and if it got really tough, we were not responsible for feeding them. All of this was worked out beforehand.

We left Stock Isalnd about mid-day. I was still stowing supplies below. We carried a couple thousand gallons of water in our tanks and we were immeidately rationed. Water was used for drinking and cooking and clean up only. No bathing or washing at all. Sea baths would have to suffice. I still bought each of our crew a 2 gallon container of water. When our water ran out then we would each have our own container to do with as we wished. Survival was the mode and is what we were preparing for.

Dusk came. Cuba was 90 nautical miles away. The gulfstream flows heavily through the straits of Florida. Taking that into mind, we calculated a 12 hour trip. Captain did not want to enter Cuban waters at dark so we slowed down through the night. At sunrise we took a fix and found that the gulfstream had pushed us farther east than planned and we would arrive at the mouth of Mariel Harbor just before sunset. So a day at sea. Anticiipation was high. The Cuban Americans (CA) were watching us to find out how to do things (where to lounge, how to cook on our stove, wash up etc) They had a designated representative, Nelson, from Purto Rico. Only he was to communicate to the Captain. The Captain stayed aloof from the passengers. [Later I learned that he was doing this on purpose, he did not want to become involved with them emotionally because then he felt it would influence his decisions. He spoke to Nelson and to our own crew through out the entire trip so he could remain unbiased. Looking back, it could not have been any other way. He had all of our lives in his hands and the emotions were running high. He could not get personal or any more personal than his desire to help. They could not become real to him. I understand this now but there were moments that he deliberatley missed out on because fo this position. I admire him for his forsight.

As soon as we entered Cuban waters a Cuban gun boat came out to greet us. They told us to anchor outside the harbor and wait for instructions. Everything was communicated to us in Cuban. Nelson interpreted for us. No one on our crew spoke spainish! Today I think we all do.

Our crew consisted of John the Captain, Lou Buck the first mate, Daniel Roten and his girlfriend Robin, Dave Bell(the nemesis of the trip) and myself. Everyone had significant sea time. Time would tell if we had the staying power and strength of mind that would be tested over and over.

We arrived at the harbor entrance, dropped anchor and was instucted by the Captain to prepare for the evening meal. As we ate our first meal in Cuban waters, we were surrounded by 15 - 20 small American boats (about 20 to 40 feet in length) and one gunboat that broadcasted Castro's May Day speech from Havanna Plaza. Yes, we arrived on May Day, the Communists' Fourth of July. So we ate quitely on deck and listended to Castro talk about Americans as scum and vile beings that were lesser than the feces that came from our bodies. This was a real welcome wagon approach. Couldn't wait to move into the harbor. Captain mentioned that our minds would be played with the entire time we were here and we better get used to it. He was not going to allow it to get to us-we would counter strike each mind game within ourselves. In other words, don't get anxious we are ok, we are just going into a kidney shaped harbor that is controlled by a dictator that hates us. Lovely. I was 21 at the time hoping to see 22.

After dark, we were told to weigh anchor and move into the harbor. We were the last ship to go in because it took us a long time to weigh anchor (it was bigger than everyone else's). The gunboat was yelling directions at us and Nelson was flustered. He claimed Puerto Rican was different than Cuban and he could not understand what they were saying so fast. "Great, our interprator jsut told us he could not interpret". The Cubans were telling us to go outside the channel markers. We jsut saw a luxury yacht run aground and sinking outside the channel markers. Our Captain said "@#& them we follow the rules of the road". We slowly motored through the channel markers and dropped anchor where we were told. The entire time this was going on, huge commie spotlights were shining down on us and swinging over the harbor. It was very intimidating. Our second shot at a mind game. I will let you pick out the rest.

As soon as we anchored, our crew gathered on top of the after cabin (aft'cabin) and surveyed the scene. The spotlights we determined would go all night. We guessed that the Cubans would conduct business at night since that is a bit disorienting. Captain decided we would hold watches through the dark hours and we would have the day time off. That way, we would have some semblance of normalcy and have our butts covered too. Watches were arranged. John adn I had the first watch, Robin and Dan the second and Lou and Dave the third.

John and I were the only permanent Western Union crew. Dan and Robin were there for a visit and took the job for the expereince. Lou was the captain of another tall ship, the Young America and dave had worked for him on and off for years.

I think I will end now. The story is just beginging but I will need more time. Direct me with questions if you like.

Thanks for listening. And yes, the visuals are very clear for me and the sensations are acute.

Lynn, this is the stuff good books are made of. I'm on the edge of my seat reading this. Can't wait to hear the rest. At least I knowyou survived...and John too. Phew!

There is a book I bought for my father-in-law a couple years ago. it's a high seas adventure written by a women and it was true. I have to find out the name of that book because I'm curious now. Have you heard of anything like that? Bet you'd like it and it may spark some creative thoughts about writing more!

[ January 01, 2004, 01:19 PM: Message edited by: Dotsie ]

Lynn this is wonderful. How can you leave us hanging though? I'm about to die to find out what happened next!

Lynn, when you have time, the queen and I would love to hear the end of your story!

We do know you and John survived!

not only that...I sent you a private message Lynn...please read, k?

I'll continue as long as time will allow today.

The first night was quiet in Mariel harbor. We felt like we had things covered as far as our watches etc. We received a radio call from a friend on another boat in the harbor. H said be prepared, we would be moved and messed with over the next several days.

All transmissions were monitored by the Cuban government. So nothing went without their knowledge.

The next morning we were told to move to anotehr location in the harbor. We tried to find a reason for and order for everything and there simply was none. We thought movement meant obtaining the people we came for dictated your location in the harbor etc. Nada.

Over the next 16 days we were moved several times. Many card games ensued. Robin and I owed each other millions from gin rummy. There was an ongoing chess game for weeks. And Lou Buck bought a bottle of rum each night and entertained us with his antics. A "bum Boat" driven by Cubans would pull up to our boat each day to sell us their wares/ Everything from rice, eggs, watermelon, rum, cigars, gross meats, scandinavian cookies etc. We tried to trade them with copies of Playboy magazine. They were very enticed but we learned all of their wares were goivernment issue and they had to account for it iwth american money. They could only look but not trade. What we did buy, rum, rice, watermelon and eggs were of good "quality and quanity" due to the private showing they received form the Playboys. I was surpirised to find myself flashing the centerfold to obtain a special tidbit to enhance our dinner that night.

Movement about the harbor was rather free. We could take our dingy and visit another boat or go ashore (one locale) and buy gasoline or go to a Russian Cruise Ship docked in the center of the harbor to check on our immigration status. Aboard the cruise ship, we could buy lunch, american cigarettes etc. We didn't but checked everything out.

John decided, by watchign the harbor movements, that it was possible that we would be kept there until our money ran out. So he halted all purchases from the bum boat. We were to appear as if we had no money. Life became even more dull but it was necessary to get out of there.

On Mother's day, I was distraught. I had not told my mother where I was going and I had not sent a card for the first time in my life. I knew she would be upset. John said we would try to go ashore and make a phone call. We went to the Cruise Ship, caught a Cuban Ferry, (kinda like hitchhiking but you have to pay) then ashore where stands were set up to buy fighting cocks, qualludes, american toothpaste, gross meats and ice cream. You could also buy a bus ticket to havanna. We bought two, waited for an hour or so and a luxury bus arrived. We boarded, settled in for the twenty minute ride to havanna. Then rent a motel room, and make a phone call to the states.

We knew and had participated in sending shampoo in folded newspapers for the hotel maids. Cuban Americans would leave them in the motel and the Cuban's knew not to throw them away. They took them home and scraped off the shampoo into jars or glasses and this would last the entire family for a year. I got into this ina big way. I was always smuggling something into Havanna with someone who was going. Now I could do it myself. What intrigue!

We were about to take off, when two soldiers came aboard to check ID. Well, you guessd it, they did not like my ID. I did not have a passport at the time and had not changed my license from Maryland to Florida yet. Maryland's license did not require a picutere at this time so the soldiers were not happy at all. After much confusion as to the problem. (It is hard to understand what a gunning waving really means). A gentleman sitting behind us explained the problem and interpreted for us. He asked if I could go to havanna on my captain's passport since that had been done before. They did not like the idea. I am dark haired and dark eyed and had a dark tan. In other words, I looked Cuban. They did not want to take any chances on one otheir own getting out on my ID. So wwe were forced off the bus by gun point. I was rather indignant about it all. This is where youth comes in to play. We waited anotehr twenty minutes for our $40. back. and went to the sale stands. We bought dixie cups of ice cream to console me because my mother was still going to be over the edge with woryy. And John bought a slab of bacon that was hanging up and a roll of somethig that had to originate froma pig at some point. He was delighted with his parcels and we headed for the ferry to hithike back to the cruise ship where we picked up our dingy and went back to the Western Union.

This trip took an entire day. I prepared our evening meal and our watches began for the night.

The next morning I came on deck and was looking right at a Russian solddier. He spoke to me in Spainish and I got the captian immediately as requested. We were presented with a piloting fee for the enterance into the harbor. Oh yeah, that was worth all of about 5cents. But the bill was $300. if I recall correctly. We still have it here somewhere. We paid them in one dollar bills and quarters so as to appear as if we were out of money. We were pretty close.

This began a flourish across the harbor. Everyone was charged no matter the size of ship. The guy who was grounded on his yacht was swimming from boat to boat begging for money. The Cubans were charging him $5,000 to pull his boat off the rocks.

The harbor was changing. Every little boat that patrolled the harbor now had a russian aboard. The shore line was rimmed with Cubans armed with AK47's. The cruise ship was moved to one side of the harbor. Movement was becoming diffiult around the harbor. We made a final trip to the cruise ship to check on things. We learned that no one we came to pick up would be leaving with us and that Castro planned on putting over 300 prisoners aboard our ship to leave. With all this weighing on our minds, we were preparing to leave when we noticed an American tying his dingy off to the rear of the cruise ship instead of fighting through the mases on the side. He climbed a rope ladder up the cruise ship and was met by two russians and one Cuban. He was promptly shot in the head. We did not wait around to see what they did with the body. We did not speak. We moved very stealthily to our dingy, waited our turn and returned to the Western Union. Dinner that night was somber and we all knew we had madde a turn in our stay.

I am spent for now and need to get this clan fed. More later.

Thanks for listening. Lynn

oh that poor man! I realized I was holding my breathe toward the end of the story! Whenever you can get back, please do but don't let me pressure you. I mean it.

This is better than a series on TV. Much better.

Georgia,

Some kinds of pressure is a good thing.

Lynn

You have to write a book. This stuff us unbelievable. Geezy, peezy!

Don't worry about your writing. Just write and have an editor do the rest, or a book doctor. In addition to fun living on a boat, these stories have historical components to them too.

What a rich life you've lived! Tell us more.

I agree with Ms. D. These stories are a must have for the rest of the world. They don't belong to you anymore...

get busy. Write more. You hear me?!!!!

Is that the kind of pressure you were talking about? yes? no?