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anchor out.
    â€œBe back in an hour or so,” Denny said, hopping onto the catwalk and starting for the ladder. “Depending.”
    Cat waved him off and struggled aft with the heavy anchor and chain. Then he stopped. Jesus, he’d had his binoculars and spinnaker pole stolen, and now he’d just let a perfect stranger walk off with his alternator. He’d been a little slow in adjusting to the local climate.
    The women were leaving the boat with soap, shampoo, and towels. “We’ll be back after a while,” Katie said.
    â€œYou’re not taking any money or anything valuable with you, are you?” Cat called to them.
    Katie took off her wristwatch and handed it to him with her wallet. “You’re right, and believe me, we won’t linger in the shower.”
    â€œMaybe I’d better come with you,” Cat said. Having a thief on board in broad daylight had rattled him.
    â€œNo,” Jinx said, “if you do, when we get back the boat might not be here. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of ourselves, and we can scream real loud if we have to.”
    â€œI guess you’re right,” Cat said. “Somebody had better stay here with the boat.” They left and he went below to the chart table. He grabbed the chart, a pencil, and a plotter and headed back for the cockpit, checking to make sure his shotgun was still secured in its hidden cupboard behind the clever flap that concealed it. He’d had that done in Fort Lauderdale, and he felt better knowing they had some sort of protection aboard in this part of the world. He’d heard the horror stories, and he meant to be careful. He climbed into the cockpit and started planning his passage to the Canal. Ordinarily, he would have done it at the chart table, but now he wanted to be where he could see who came and went.
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    Four hours later he looked at his watch and then at Katie. They had all showered and had lunch. He had done his passage planning and a couple of odd jobs on the boat. The kid, Denny, was nowhere to be seen. “Well, I guess I did the wrong thing,” he said.
    â€œCat, let’s get out of here,” Katie said. “This place gives me the willies.”
    Cat nodded; he didn’t like it much, either. “There’s probably enough juice left in the engine battery, but I want to save it for when we get to Panama, and I don’t think I want to try to sail her out of here,” he said, glancing around the area. “Too confined. We’ll inflate the dinghy and tow us out with the outboard. When we get to the Canal, we can radio for a tow. I can make a radiotelephone call to the builders on the way, and we can probably have a new alternator and spinnaker pole waiting for us in Panama.”
    â€œThat seems like the sensible thing,” Jinx chimed in. “I’m really surprised about Denny, though; I liked him.”
    â€œSo did I, until now,” Cat replied. “Let’s get moving. I’ll get the anchor back in the well; you two get the dinghy out of the aft locker and connect it to the pump. We’ll be gone in five minutes.”
    As they spilled into the cockpit, there was a shout from above. “Hey, give me a hand, will you?”
    They looked up to find Denny standing on the key, a cardboard box under one arm and Catbird’s spinnaker pole under the other.
    Three broad smiles greeted him. “Where’d you find the pole?” Cat called.
    â€œYou wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Denny yelled, tossing down the pole, then carefully handing down the cardboard box. He hopped down onto the deck. “Sorry about the binoculars, but I had an idea about the pole and thought I ought to pursue it; it just took me longer than I figured.”
    â€œWhat luck with the alternator?” Cat asked.
    â€œGood news and bad news,” Denny replied. “There isn’t a diode