Shawn arrived late in the afternoon, and he took a smaller plane from Honolulu Intl. to our local airstrip on Moloka’i. I took a cab to the airport, and waited for him. Once he got off the plane, I was waiting to give him another of our tight man-hugs. He wasn’t much of a sentimental guy, but having been through so much, and apart for a while, it was just natural. He and I had been through a lot together, that’s for sure.
We took a cab back to the dock, and I showed him his bunk. He tossed his suitcase in, and then we went to see Howard. He called the friend, and said the plane would be over in about an hour, having to fly over from another island. We waited on Howard’s boat, drinking some iced tea. Every now and then, hydration before dehydration is a good thing, right?
About an hour later, after some idle chat, we heard the roar of the motor as the seaplane got close to the dock. He was obviously a good pilot, and had pulled it right up to the dock. We walked out to the plane, and it looked like it was in immaculate condition. The pilot opened the door, and stepped out one leg at a time. I was shocked to see long slender legs and a very nice sized pair of breasts on the pilot. The woman who flew it, looked to be about fifty, and still gorgeous for her age. She shook her head, and her light brown pony-tail whipped around a bit.
She walked over to Howard, shook hands with him, and then turned to me.
“You must be James, right?” She held out her hand, and I took it. “I’m Martha, but everyone calls me Marty.”
“Pleased to meet you, Marty,” as I shook the offered hand. “This plane looks amazing. I was a bit worried when I heard it was a 1957 model, but it doesn’t look its age at all.” Kinda like the pilot too, I thought to myself.
“Well, thank you. I did all the restoration work myself, most of it in the last few years,” she said, beaming with pride.
“Mind if my friend and I take a closer look?” I asked.
She just waved at the bird, smiled, and walked to the side of Howard. Before we even got inside it, they were having some kind of whispered conversation.
Looking in the interior, it was all very well appointed. The seats all had white leather upholstery, and the control panel gauges looked new. Even the windows were all in great shape, and not all scratched up as I half expected. Shawn went out and pulled open the engine hatch, looking in at the 627 SMOH engine. He poked around, jiggled a few connections, and slid his hands over one of the propeller blades.
Shawn told me to turn the controls and rudder pedals a few times, and was satisfied that all the parts moved with ease. There were no squeaks or other noises that would indicate fatigue of the mechanical parts, although he would likely take some of the parts off to verify, visually, that everything was in order before letting me fly people in it. After about twenty minutes of examination, he looked at me and grinned.
I walked back to the pilot, and smiled. “Marty, I think we like it. What do you want for her?”
She looked like she was deep in thought for a minute, “I have been asking for four-hundred fifty thousand for it, but for you, I will take an even four-hundred.”
That was a lot of money, but might be well worth it. These planes, in this condition, could fetch at least five-hundred grand back on the mainland. “Marty, if you can come down to three seventy five, I think we have a deal.”
“I guess I can come down to that.”
We shook on it, and retired to Howards’ cabin for a drink. Marty stuck to just one drink, so she could still fly home. She told us briefly about her time on the islands, and how her husband of nearly thirty years had just passed away from cancer. She decided that it was time to move back to the mainland, so she could be closer to her grandchildren. I felt bad for her loss, but also thought it was really great that she had what sounded like a wonderful family to go spend the rest of her life with.
We made an arrangement for me to go pick up the plane once the financing had all been concluded, and said our goodbyes. She floated out away from the dock, and then accelerated and took off towards her island. Shawn and I said goodbye to Howard, and returned to my boat. That night, sleep came slowly. The weather got a bit nastier than usual, and a storm blew through, which always made the boat rock.
The next few days were stormy, but eventually it cleared back up. It took an additional week for the financing paperwork to be completed, but I was now the proud owner of a 1957 DeHavilland DHC-2 Beaver seaplane. Shawn and I took the boat on the day long trip to her island. He drove the boat back to our dock, while I flew the plane. The older plane was a joy to fly, and gave me absolutely no problems whatsoever. Obviously, I made it back before he did, so I hung out with Howard until Shawn pulled the boat up to the dock.
Over the next few weeks, we had all of our official requests and licensing taken care of. Our business, Puddle Jumpers, was born. Jenny, the office clerk, decided to stay back in Virginia and got a job working with FedEx. Tammy, our old office manager, decided that she and her twelve year old daughter needed a new start, away from her unfaithful husband. Hawaii was rapidly becoming everyone’s fresh start destination.
I helped pay for her to move to the island, and she rented a place in town. She ran a small, two-room commercial space for us, claiming the larger office for herself, of course. I used the other room, and Shawn pretty much just stayed with me when he wasn’t working on the plane. He did find some other jobs around the marina to work on, for some cash on the side. All-in-all, we were not at all busy, and liked it that way.
It was about two months later, when I got the package in the mail. My divorce had been finalized as of the day before. It was a somber day, but one that I knew meant the official beginning of the rest of my life. That night, Shawn and I decided that a small tiki hut bar down the beach needed our attention. He has always had my back, and he knew that I had to go out and forget the night completely. The bits and pieces I do remember of it were pretty fun, actually. I stayed away from Tequila this time, but the Spiced Rum did me in nearly as bad as last time. We both woke up with terrible hang-overs, and promised to keep each other away from that tiki hut for a while.