Glimpses of the Island

Flight Interrupted

The plane touched down at the international airport in Victoria right on schedule. The airline was some Turkish regional carrier with a name Luisa couldn't even pronounce, but the stewardess spoke English and the plane did arrive on time. This would be the last layover before the Maldives. Victoria, the capital city of the Seychelle Islands, was also located in the Indian Ocean, and judging by the number and accents of fellow passengers it was a popular tourist spot for Europeans. She had four hours here before catching the next and final leg of her flight. It had been a long day, more than sixteen hours just to get this far. Luisa was tired from traveling and jet lag. First thing after getting into the airport at the Maldives capital city of Male would be to locate the company campus and find out where she would be living. The beaches could wait for a day.

Customs were fast, polite, and efficient. One look at her passport followed by instructions on how to find her departure gate took no more than a few moments. With her luggage in tow she walked through the concourse looking for a restaurant to have lunch. At a place that advertised they would take euros or dollars she ordered a salad for lunch. Because of the time change it was only noon locally. Traveling east she would lose a few more hours on the way to the Maldives. By her calculations she would be in time for supper.

As she finished her meal she was surprised to hear her name being called over the loudspeaker. It was a request that she proceed to the business desk for the airline listed on the remaining ticket. The announcement was repeated in French. She asked the cashier for directions before heading down the airport concourse toward the ticket counters.

Being a small airport she had no trouble finding the airline's counter. When she told the woman behind the counter her name, the ticket agent gestured to a man standing at the end of the counter. Luisa turned to face him.

"Good afternoon mademoiselle , please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Henri Mustapha, a local travel agent. Your company makes use of my services to handle employee bookings here in the Seychelles. As I'm sure you are aware, you are scheduled to fly to Les Isles Maldives later today. I regret to inform you the flight has been cancelled due to a fire this morning at the international airport in Male. There has been some damage to the tower and navigation systems. Estimates are that it may be several days before the airport is reopened."

Luisa was taken aback at the news. Thinking quickly, it seemed she might be able to stay at a hotel until she could resume her journey. She would have to retrieve her luggage from the airline. She started to ask the travel agent, but he continued before she could speak.

"When your company was notified I was immediately contacted and asked to make other arrangements for you. Through inquiries I have determined that a ship is departing later this day, the destination to be the same island as the company's training center, which I am told is where you are expected. Now I must inform you the ship is a freighter, not a passenger liner, but they do carry a small number of passengers on a routine basis and have very comfortable private cabins. The crossing time should be no more than four days. The ship is of Saudi Arabian registry so you may be confident of its safety. I have taken the liberty of reserving a cabin for you, but if for any reason you would prefer to wait until the airport reopens, however long that may be, then of course I will instead arrange for a hotel here in Victoria."

Luisa was charmed by the travel agent's accent and appearance. In another age he would have been the stereotypical colonial French planter. She didn't like the idea of waiting. It could take weeks instead of days. This was the tropics; work traditionally went at a slower pace along the equator. It would be a substantial expense for the company to pay her hotel bill too. If she refused it would leave a bad impression about her, as someone who was uncooperative.

The ship didn't sound that bad anyway. She had been on a cruise ship once way back in high school, on a trip with her parents. It might be fun to sail the ocean on a tramp steamer, like the old movies. She had a fleeting vision of herself as Mary Astor in Across the Pacific , romanced by Humphrey Bogart while sinister foreign spies like Peter Lorre lurked in the background. The travel agent could almost pass for Sidney Greenstreet if he'd had an English accent. "I would be happy to continue on the ship, Mr. Mustapha. I'd like to thank your for your efforts. I don't know what I would have done stranded here without your help."

"My gratitude for your kind words, mademoiselle . Your employer is very influential and highly respected among our far-flung islands here in the Indian Ocean. It has been my privilege for many years now to make certain their employees always have a safe, enjoyable, and uneventful trip while passing through our little corner of paradise." He stopped to glance at his wristwatch. "Then it is settled. Allow me to retrieve your luggage before we depart. Afterward I will drive you to the port and see that everything is in order. We have a little time, might I suggest the scenic route to the harbor?"

Without waiting for her reply he turned to the ticket counter and spoke rapidly in French. The woman made a phone call to someone else in that same rapid French patois. Luisa's knowledge of French dated back to a single year in grade school; far too little to even follow along with the conversation. She wasn't even sure it was the European flavor of French they were speaking.

" Bien ." Henri concluded his conversation with the ticket agent and turned back to Luisa. "All is arranged. If you would accompany me to the baggage area? You must identify your things, and then we can be on our way."

After she picked out her luggage he carried the bags out to his car. True to his word he took the long way around, a drive through the town and along the shore, all the while carrying on with a non-stop travelogue. When they arrived at the port later that afternoon, he drove right up to the ship. Luisa had imagined it would be a leaky rust bucket barely kept afloat, but docked at the pier was a modern ship with no tell-tale signs of poor maintenance. She recognized the green Saudi flag flying from a mast. At the stern was the name of the ship, in English and Arabic, the Salsa Mahar . When she tried to pronounce it, the travel agent translated.

"I think the owners make a joke. The name, it is the extract of soybeans. Perhaps they carry many tons of beans to some part of the world. If you would excuse me for a moment, I will check on your passage."

Luisa laughed. Sailing off on the good ship Soy Sauce would be a story in itself. Mr. Mustapha parked the car close to a gangway, got out, and approached a crewman standing watch. She waited while the men exchanged a few words, the agent showed him some papers, and then apparently the matter was settled as the crewman took a radio handset from his belt and spoke into it. The travel agent returned to the car, stopping to open the trunk and then Luisa's door.

"All in order. The ship's purser will be along in one moment to conduct you to your cabin. He will inform you of safety procedures, meal schedules, and the facilities on the ship. If you have questions please speak up at any time." He held out his hand to assist her out of the car. Standing up, she saw a uniformed officer and a crewman exiting the gangway. The officer pointed to her bags and said something in what sounded like Arabic. The crewman nodded and picked them up.

"Welcome aboard the Salsa , ma'am. May I introduce myself? I am Ahmed, ship's purser and part-time guide for our passengers. If you would follow me, I'll show you to your cabin. We cast off in about an hour. Henri, good to see you again, perhaps we will have that dinner on my next port call?" His English was perfect but definitely not his native language. From his appearance and the accent she guessed Indian or Pakistani.

Luisa thanked the travel agent once again, and after the two men shook hands she followed the purser up the ramp into the ship. The décor was decidedly function over form. Pipes and conduits lined the corridor walls, all with arcane engineering labels. Quite a contrast to the cruise ship Luisa had been on. Still it was clean and organized, if not up to luxury liner standards.

Ahmed took her through several corridors to the passenger section. There were six cabins, and not all occupied judging from the open doors and empty rooms. This was definitely not a cruise ship. Her cabin was small but it did have a private shower and toilet. There was even a porthole on one bulkhead. "It is customary for the passengers to dine with the ship's officers, ma'am. A crewman will deliver the schedule once we are at sea, along with the safety instructions. Feel free to take a walk outside anytime but please be careful of working areas. We also ask that you let an officer know if you are on deck after dark, for safety reasons. We have a small passenger lounge with modest entertainment facilities. I believe you will have three traveling companions on this trip. Now if you will excuse me, I must see to my duties before the ship leaves port." Ahmed tipped his hat and left.

Out the porthole she could see the sun on the horizon. Being so close to the equator made for a short sunset. She could hear loud mechanical sounds, and soon felt the vibration of the engines as the ship prepared to leave the dock. As much as she would have liked to watch the departure, the long travel time in the air and close proximity of a soft bed were too much to resist. Luisa went right to sleep.

Luisa awoke at sunrise. A look out her porthole verified they were at sea. On the floor in front of her door was a slip of paper. Picking it up, she discovered it was the promised dining schedule. On the interior wall of the cabin was a small clock embedded in the wall. That must be ship's time , she thought. She had about an hour before breakfast, enough time to shower and take a short walk.

Thirty minutes later she was closing her cabin door from the outside. English signs on the corridor wall directed her to the lounge, officer's mess, and outside hatches. Taking note of the directions she headed outside.

The sky was a bright cloudless blue. There was a cool morning breeze and calm seas. Luisa strolled along the deck, heading toward the stern. Where there would be a pool or tennis courts on a cruise ship, here were covered cargo holds and stacks of shipping containers. A crewman working next to one of the holds noticed her and nodded. She smiled back and kept going. Near the stern was a small observation deck with chairs and tables. It being early in the morning she was surprised to see an older man sitting in one of the chairs reading some papers. As she approached he noticed her, put the papers in a briefcase, and stood up to greet her.

"Good morning, my name is John Leeds. You must be one of the other passengers?"

Luisa introduced herself, using her working alias. She sat down next to him, gazing out at the wake of the ship. "A beautiful day," Luisa began, "I'm just getting a little air before breakfast."

"Time change for me, I woke up too early." John continued, "I'm on my way home after an assignment in the States, along with a short field trip to the Congo."

"Africa? It must be interesting work. This is something of a detour for me. I was supposed to catch a plane to the Maldives yesterday, but there was a problem. I was lucky this ship was headed in the right direction. I'm going to be attending a training school as part of my new job."

She noticed a puzzled look on his face. "The Maldive Islands? What company do you work for?" he asked.

"Gulf-Indian Civil Engineering Group, GICEG for short. Have you heard of it?"

"Indeed I have. I'm one of those civil engineers. I work across the street from the training school That's in the main building downtown. I shouldn't be too surprised at the coincidence. After all, everyone on the ship is headed for the same place."

Luisa was puzzled by his cryptic comment, but it might be an opportunity to learn about the company, maybe even pick up something on the rumors. This man, probably American by the accent, could very well be one of the people she wanted to expose. "Have you lived in the Maldives long?" she asked.

"The Maldives? Oh no, never been there." He pointed at the rising sun off to the port side of the ship. "We're at the equator, sunrise is due east. The Maldives are in that direction, stretched out along the equator. Our bearing is south by east."

Luisa looked at the sun. He was right. They were heading the wrong way.

"GICEG's training facility isn't in the Maldives, that's only the port the company uses for air travel. We're headed to the Island, you know, Isla Del Sur. No airport, the only way to get to the Island is by ship." He stopped to check his watch. "It's about time for breakfast, would you like to go up to the officer's mess now?"

Isla Del Sur! Luisa was able to conceal her shocked expression by standing and turning away. She was headed to the Island that didn't exist. Dumb , she told herself, of course there wouldn't be regular scheduled air service to a mythical land . She turned back to John. "Could you lead the way? I haven't had a chance to explore yet."

On the way Luisa made small talk but inside her mind was in turmoil. Why hadn't Henri the travel agent told her where the ship was headed? Had he even told her the truth about the airport fire? It could have easily been a ruse to divert her to the ship. But why bother if she would have boarded a ship in the Maldives anyway? The only difference was no one knew she was on this ship except Henri. The plane tickets said something different, and if someone who looked like her had used those tickets then anyone trying to trace her whereabouts wouldn't even be close to the truth.

Up until the minute John had mentioned their destination she still had doubts the Island really existed. Those doubts were gone now, but new concerns demanded her attention. Her idea about hopping on a plane and flying off unannounced once she had her story wasn't going to happen. She had a cold feeling that she might be in over her head, as the words of warning from her editor came back to her. These people were very smart and very thorough. Luisa realized she had no idea what awaited her, no clue as to how she would get back to civilization, and she was already past the point of no return.