Bahama Crisis

"Worse! You know that new baggage-handling carousel at the airport?" I nodded. It was an innovation for which we had been pressing for a long time. With increased flights of wide-bodied jets the airport had developed a baggage-handling bottleneck which the carousel was intended to alleviate.

Fletcher said, "It couldn' t have done a better job if it had been designed for the purpose."

"A better job of what?"

"Opening the baggage without benefit of keys. The baggage was put on the conveyor, and somewhere in that underground tunnel something ripped open every suitcase. What spewed out on to the carousel were smashed suitcases and mixed-up contents."

"Didn't they try to turn it off when they saw what was happening?"

"They tried and couldn't. Apparently it wouldn't stop. And the telephone link between the carousel and the loading point outside hasn't been installed yet. By the time they'd fiddled around and sent someone outside to stop the loading it was too late. They'd pushed in the lot the whole planeload of baggage."

I nodded towards the lobby.

"Who is this crowd?"

"LTP Industries convention from Chicago. They're already raising hell. If you want a slice of gloom just go out into the lobby you can cut it with a knife. One good thing; the Airport Authority carries the can for this not us. "

The Airport Authority might carry ultimate responsibility but the airport people did not have on their hands over 200 unhappy and discontented Americans and when Ameri- cans are discontented they let it be known, loud and clear. Their unhappiness would spread through the hotel like a plague.

Jack said, "That Boeing was full, every seat filled. We're not the only people with grief; Holiday Inn, Atlantik Beach, Xanadu we've all got troubles."

That did not make me feel any better.

"What's the Airport Authority doing about it?"

"Still trying to make up their minds."

"Oh, for God's sake!" I said.

"You go out there and give them a pacifier $50 each for immediate necessities. I'll ring the airport to tell them I'll be sending them the bill. And make it a public relations service on the part of the hotel. Let them know clearly that we don't have to do it, but we're full of the milk of human kindness. We have to make some profit out of this mess."

He nodded and left, and I rang the airport. There followed a short but tempestuous conversation in which threats of legal action were issued. As I put down the telephone it rang under my hand. Jessie said, "Sam Ford wants to see you. By the way he's acting the matter is urgent."

"I'll be along." I went back to my office via the lobby, testing the atmosphere as I went. Fletcher had made an announcement and the tension had eased. A queue had already formed at the cashier's desk to receive their dole. I walked through Jessie's office, beckoning to Sam as I went, and sat behind my desk.

"I thought you were down by Ragged Island."

The Ragged Island project was something I had developed by listening to Deputy-Commissioner Perigord. What he had said about the Ragged Island Range and theJumento Cays had remained with me. My idea was to buy a couple of the cays and set up camps for those tourists who preferred to rough it for a few days on a genuine desert island. It was my intention to cater for all tastes and, being in the low tourist season, I had sent Sam Ford down in a boat to scout a few locations.

"I was," said Sam.

"But something came up. You remember that fellow you wanted to know about?"

"Who?"

"Kayles. Jack Kayles."

I jerked.

"What about him? Have you seen him?" It had been over a year and I had almost forgotten.

"No, but I've seen his boat."

"Where?"

"In theJumentos – lying off Man-o'-War Cay. Now called My Fair Lady and her hull is blue."

I said, "Sam, how in hell can you be sure it's the same boat?"

"Easy." Sam laughed.

"About a year and a half ago Kayles wanted a new masthead shackle for his forestay. Well, it's a British boat and I only had American fittings, so I had to make an adaptor. It's still there."

"You got that close to her?" "Bout a cable." That was 200 yards.

"And I put the glasses on her.

I don't think Kayles was on board or he'd have come out on deck. They usually do in those waters because there are not that many boats about and folks get curious. He must have been ashore but I didn't see him. " He looked at me seriously.

"I thought of boarding her but I remembered what you said about not wanting him scared off, so I just passed by without changing course and came back here."

"You did right. When was this?"

"Yesterday. Say, thirty hours ago. I came back real fast."

He had indeed; it was over 300 miles to the Jumentos. I pondered for a while. To get there quickly I could fly, but the only place to land was at Duncan Town and that was quite a long way from Man-o'-War Cay and I would have to hire a boat, always supposing there was one to be hired with a skipper willing to make a loo-mile round trip. For the first time I wished we had a seaplane or amphibian.

I said, "Are you willing to go back now?"