After the meal Rich took another reading and sat at the chart desk to figure the course adjustment needed. He changed is heading to 32 degrees and relaxed in a coat and warm blanket in the cockpit.
Two hours later, a thin black line as if drawn with a pencil divided the sea and sky. He stepped out of the pilothouse stood at the bow. The binoculars were held to his eyes; the Chilean coast appeared.
Rich sailed into the Gulf of Corcovado. The destination, Quellon, it rested on the mainland of Chile protected by several islands in the gulf.
Navigating through the narrows of the islands proved easy. Approaching the village, he noticed many small fishing boats lying on the harbor’s bottom left there by the receding tide. He dropped the sails and allowed the boat to come to a restful stop. A line with a sinker was tossed. It measured 10 feet 6 inches.
Rich glanced at the sun in the west. “Two hours it will be dark,” he thought. “I’ll go to shore in the morning.”
The anchor splashed in the water. Rich rested below to the sounds of some sort of South American folk music from the radio. Later he inventoried his supply of food and made a list of needed items. “A third more of everything,” he whispered, “always a third more.”
Rich read well into the evening and rested the book on his chest. “Is the running away over? Am I safe from the clutches of Sam White and Dave Smithson. Somehow I have managed to escape their clutches. I must be a thorn in their flesh. The next time I’m within their grasp, my end may come before there is a circumstance or time to escape. Death cannot be escaped; it is as permanent as it gets.”
“Why does one man promote an ideology or government over another man? In the grand scheme, it seems nonsensical. Why does one nation have to dominate others? Why does there have to be conquest? It doesn’t make sense. There is a man high in the Andes who has a better grasp on his emotional and mental state than all the world’s leaders combined. He will live a life without harming another soul and his living or passing will not even be noted, but his accomplishment will be great; he did no harm. Perhaps a man’s greatness should be measured by the least amount of impact he’s had on this world. Sometimes great accomplishments bring great evil and harm. Why is good vehemently resisted.”
“Why did Alexander want to conquer? Why does a man want to be a millionaire? Why does a man want to rule another? What is it that drives men to conquer, gain wealth, and stand above others? Is it worth the effort? Who is happiest J. Paul Getty or that guy in the Andes? I know—and so does J. Paul Getty.”