[StocktonDon]

7-9-06

Crew (aka darn cat) waved his tail in amusement as Procurement Officer tried not to run. PO’s red face and scuttling feet as he all but jumped into his vehicle and left – no fled – the base and his briefing with Captain were classic: military intelligence had lived down to its name again. The only question now was what would be the fate of The Carrot.

Captain emerged from his office to walk the perimeter. Crew knew the signs: Captain’s pace was deliberate, almost mechanically precise, and his body language was too controlled, too quiet. Crew knew this was the same “quiet” found at the center of hurricanes.

Captain was angry, deep down angry, the kind of quiet angry that would lead first to almost meditation-like calmness and then to the kind of resolute, often surprising, even radical, action that endeared Captain to those in the ranks but infuriated The Admiralty. The storm flags were flying.

Crew knew Captain was ultimately responsible for signing off on the purchase of The Carrot and now regretted it deeply. The mango-colored Hobie Adventure hanging in the transport bay was barely two months old, Captain had not begun to customize it for its appointed mission, and now it was clear that a newer design, the Adventure Island, was and always would be superior in design and mission suitability. Captain was angry.

“Well, Crew, merchants will be merchants, won’t they?” Captain asked rhetorically. Crew knew not to answer. “The dealer said nothing new until 2008. The Hobie rep said nothing new for a while and easy trade-in later. Both said buy now. And I signed off in May. Two months later and, well, you know, the Island is supposed to be available in September 2006.”

(Crew: you don’t really want me to comment do you?) Captain made an inarticulate sound somewhere between a disgusted grumble and muttered curse, and then made the throwing-away motion that Crew knew meant “Fire away, how could your comment make things any worse?”

(Crew: will you ever be able to look at The Carrot and be satisfied that you have equipped those you send into harm’s way with the best tool for the job under the circumstances?) Captain stops pacing and stares at Crew: “Old friend I can always count on you to cut to the chase, can’t I.?” (Crew: don’t forget the pounce and bite!) Captain laughs; Crew knows the decision has been made – what would it be?

Captain straightens his sleeves and brushes off some imaginary lint; Crew knew it was an old stalling habit that let Captain gather his final thoughts. “Crew, I never did like those inflatable outriggers supported by only one arm. They’re just not tough enough for the kind of knock-about conditions our missions encounter all the time. The new design with more sail area is faster, the new polypropylene outriggers with two support arms are more stable and of more durable construction, the sail’s roller-furling makes it more responsive to a wider range of wind conditions, and the overall sail, pedal, paddle mission profile options are maintained. The budget is going to take a big hit, but I cannot sanction continued spending to outfit the existing boat, much less sending it into action.”

Captain is quiet for a moment, “The Admiralty will be furious.” (Crew: they often are when you do what you know is right, without bowing to political or economic pressures.) “They’ll think I’m crazy.” (Crew: that’s crazi-er!) Captain chuckles and his body language relaxes, then he somehow squares his shoulders even more than they were, nods to Crew, and re-enters the base without looking back.

Crew nods to himself and settles in to lick something unmentionable. There will be hell to pay and Captain, his duty to the service clear, will pay it with quiet resolution.

The Carrot will go. The Island will be procured.

Crew hopes it will be red, like Procurement Officer’s face!