A Mile Down Read Free Page B

to these I started tracing. They weren’t run the way I had asked.
    â€œThese switches here,” I showed both men, “in the emergency position, need to connect to the house banks.”
    The old man waved his finger back and forth, telling me no. He clucked with his tongue, as if I were an ignorant child. Then he talked to Seref in Turkish.
    â€œHe says they cannot connect to the house banks,” Seref said. “He says the engines are only twelve volts and the house banks are twenty-four.”
    â€œWhat?” I asked.
    Seref talked with the man again, then repeated the news to me.
    â€œSeref, you told me the engines were twenty-four-volt. I had the panels built, the switches ordered, and the entire system designed around twenty-four-volt engines.”
    Seref looked bewildered. “No,” he said. “Just a moment.”
    He talked again with the man, who started gesturing. I didn’t feel like waiting.
    â€œWhat was he doing in putting together the whole wiring plan, Seref? None of it made any sense if the engines were twelve volt. What are these switches doing now?”
    Seref put his hand up. “Calm down, David. Really. You mustn’t talk like that. Really.”
    I tried not to get upset. I tried just to listen and explain. But none of this boded well at all.
    â€œI don’t know how he make this mistake,” Seref said finally when the old man had gone. He had his hand rubbing the top of his head. I decided to back off, but then I remembered the engines.
    â€œWe should talk about the engines, too, Seref.”
    â€œEcrem is working on the engines. He will arrange all.”
    â€œThere are no siphon breaks. The engines could be flooded with saltwater. They were supposed to be added by the yard before the boat was moved out here.”
    â€œThey are coming, in the next week or two, they will do this. They know about this. They have not forgotten. Or I will have Ecrem do it. I take care of this. You don’t worry. Come. We go.” He walked up on deck and I followed. Before going down the ladder to the ground, though, I wanted to see the crew quarters. “Nothing has happened in the crew quarters,” he said. “Let’s go.”
    On the drive back to Bodrum, Seref did not want to speak to me. I looked out at the water passing, at the large boats, the new hotels, the bougainvillea and whitewashed patios, the castle on the point. This beautiful place.
    â€œI have a charter in six weeks,” I said. “If everything is not done, and done right, I will fail, and then I will not bring more guests or build more boats. There will be no more business from me.” Seref made a considerable amount from my guests, since he arranged hotels, cars, flights, and tours for them before and after my charters. He was receiving commissions from everything I spent, too. That’s the system in Turkey. He never did admit to me that he was taking commissions every time we bought anything for the boat, but I was fairly certain he was.
    â€œIt is your first night in Bodrum,” Seref said. “Have dinner with my family tonight. We will pick you up from your hotel at eight o’clock.”
    We didn’t say anything more the rest of the drive. He dropped me off at a hotel that was not fancy, since I had asked for something cheap. I wanted to sleep on the boat but that would not be possible for some time, probably not until after launch.
    The room was small, with bare dirty carpet, a small bathroom, and no air-conditioning. It was hot but I didn’t care. I opened the window to a view of small houses on a hill, bright in the sunlight with white walls, red tile, and purple flowers. I could hear the latest Cher song blasting from some corner club, “Do you believe in life after love, after love, after love, after love…?” Nancy and I loved Turkey for its obnoxious waterfront clubs. I flopped down on the bed exhausted and set my alarm to