MV Islander by Kevin Parham

Author:Kevin Parham
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pria Publishing
Published: 2020-09-17T00:00:00+00:00

Twelve

The Islander made the trip across Vineyard Sound in twenty-two minutes, less than half the time it usually takes. Clearly, the ferry had exceeded its top speed of 11.5 knots by leaps and bounds. What’s more, passengers aboard the vessel enjoyed a customer service experience that harkened back to days of old—a time when customer satisfaction had meaning and was something for which to be proud.

The ferry was sparkling clean, both inside and out. Not a scrap of paper or trash could be found anywhere, and no graffiti was scribbled on walls or in the restrooms. Every crew member went above and beyond to treat all passengers on board with the utmost respect. The “old-school” method of doing business was a far cry from what today’s customers are routinely subjected to: blatant incompetence; bad attitudes; a deep-rooted sense of superiority and entitlement. There was consensus among the passengers that a disproportionate number of C.F.C. employees were nothing but a collection of useless hacks and cronies that think they’re doing you a favor by pilfering your hard-earned cash in exchange for poor service.

# # #

Bob Cunningham drove as fast as he could to the C.F.C. dock in Woods Hole. When he arrived, he haphazardly parked his car in the employee parking lot. He jumped out the car, and because he was in such a rush, ignored the fact that his car was occupying two parking spaces. At 6:17 a.m., he jogged to the end of the pier and looked toward the east. Minutes later, he heard a sound reminiscent of the now defunct Islander’s air-horn. Though familiar, it sounded much more dissonant than he had remembered. And it shook him to his core.

In an attempt to rationalize what he had just heard, Bob surmised it to be another vessel with a similar-sounding horn. But when the stout ferry loomed as large as life and made a sharp turn to the starboard side as it coasted toward the dock, Bob could no longer deny it was the Islander. Its two steel doors were open, as wide as a whale’s mouth, and she glided into the slip and gently bounced off the pilings before snuggling up against the ramp. Three crew members walked off the freight deck and secured the vessel, while several C.F.C. employees stood helplessly on the dock and witnessed something that, to them, was impossible.

Meanwhile, the freight vessel Ocean Spray, moored in an adjacent slip, was preparing to depart on the 7:00 a.m. trip to the Vineyard. However, after the Islander had arrived, all electrical power to the freight vessel was lost, similar to what had happened aboard Sea Mist in Vineyard Haven. Consequently, Ocean Spray was unable to make the trip.

Bob, in a state of shock, stood motionless on the dock. He reached into his pocket, grabbed hold of his cell phone, and dialed John’s number.

“Hello, John? I don’t know exactly how to say this, but you were right. A vessel that looks exactly like the Islander has docked .

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