Grover’s expression reflected his understanding, “That’s why you want us to make these specific parts. They’re used in electric turbines. You need them to repair the power plants.”
Dan nodded. “You’re correct, sir. We can provide mobile electrical power, but it’s very limited. We started at the beginning and are working our way through each step. In your case,
Sugarhill needs steel. We knew that before we came here, so a small mill outside of Flint has been operating for three days now. We drove two of the US Army’s big generator trucks to the mill, parked them outside, and hooked up the cables. We’ll do the same for Sugarhill in a few days. The steel from Flint will come here. After you make the parts, we’ll take them to the next step. That’s what we are calling a thread. There are over 500 of these threads in progress right now.”
Grover was impressed, but also awed by the complexity and scale of the undertaking. “Where did the mill get the raw materials it needed? Did you start at the mine?”
Dan shook his head, “No, we got lucky there. The mill had enough stock onsite to make what we needed. It’s rare for any manufacturing plant to keep much inventory. It’s expensive to store on the shelves, and with modern computer systems, they could order and receive delivery right before they need it. That’s a great system during normal times, but it has made it very difficult to get the country jumpstarted again.”
Grover started to comment, but Dan’s phone rang. The conversation conducted over the high-tech gadget sounded like any other materials planning meeting.
Sugarhill needed A, B and C – when can those items be expected?
“We’ll have all of this stuff here in four days,” Dan continued. “I think we need to start gathering your machinists together and preparing to restart the shop.”
Grover agreed. “I don’t think that will be a problem. I do have one question though – how are we going to pay my people? Money isn’t much good right now, and while some of them would see the big picture, others are struggling with day-to-day living. To ask them to leave their families right now? Well, there would need to be some sort of an incentive.”
Dan smiled knowingly. “Do you think food would be proper compensation?”
“No doubt about it. You have access to that much food?”
Dan grinned and answered, “If food will do the trick, I’ll deliver the groceries. Let’s start going door to door tomorrow and make sure we can get everyone in here.”
“We’d better take my truck. People are a little edgy these days, and your government car might not be welcome.”
“I understand…. Believe me, I understand.”
Matagorda Island, Texas
June 21, 2017
Wyatt lounged on Boxer’s bridge and inspected the community of Crusoe. Like a favorite lounge chair in the living room, he had taken to the captain’s chair as his favorite perch to enjoy the day’s first cup of coffee. The coffee was almost gone, and he dreaded when he could no longer relish one of the few luxuries this life afforded.
Just like Wyatt and his favorite chair, the residents of Crusoe settled into a routine not unlike any small town. Each morning, Wyatt and the others busied themselves with the small maintenance items required to keep their boats functional as a home. After those tasks were completed, the boaters tended to gather around the dock to discuss community needs as a whole.
Energy was always the single biggest concern. Gasoline or diesel was required to generate 95% of Crusoe’s electrical power, and there weren’t any gas stations open for refilling the fuel tanks. As the weather progressed from warm to hot, it grew more difficult to sleep or find comfort during the day without running the air conditioners. Everyone suffered, unwilling to waste the fuel consumed by running the gensets.
There were three boats in the fleet that had substantial wind or solar power. Even with the fairly constant onshore breeze, the wind turbines wouldn’t produce enough juice to run air conditioners. Batteries could be recharged, but climate control required more power than any of the renewable systems could provide.
Not all of the boats had arrived at Crusoe with the same amount of fuel. This had been a major challenge for the community, as some people believed everyone should share equally while others thought each family unit should stand on its own. Eventually, a system of barter was instituted, with the fuel-rich boaters trading for other necessities. One of the most valuable commodities turned out to be toilet paper.
Wyatt worked the calculations a dozen times. The gasoline-powered boats would empty their reserves first, probably in the next 20 days. The diesel boats would fare better, lasting another 30-45 days. After that, the community would be limited to what was provided by the sun and wind.
Because fuel was a finite resource, every possible method of conservation was implemented. Firewood was scavenged from the rubble of the old base, as well as from the beach. Patrols gathered what washed ashore twice weekly. Food was cooked, water heated, and fish smoked using dockside pits. While every boat in the fleet was outfitted with microwaves, or ovens of some sort, the outside kitchens required little precious fuel and thus replaced their technologically advanced cousins.
Making fresh water was another energy draw, as water makers ran off electricity. The pioneers determined that water usage should be divided into two categories, public and private. Each boat maintained water in its private storage tank, while public water facilities were established onshore.
One of the industrious residents created a series of shower stalls that utilized the sun to heat the water. Hanging overhead in clear plastic bags, the Crusoe Public Bathhouse even sported its own handmade sign. Wyatt smirked when he laid eyes on the facility, thinking how much the rustic structure reminded him of “Gilligan’s Island.”
Dishwashing, food processing, and laundry were all deemed public uses of water. The diesel boats typically were equipped with the largest capacity systems and the most fuel, so they became known as the Crusoe Water Company. Wyatt sat and watched the morning bucket brigade filling their containers at the back of a diesel boat. Each morning, several residents carried that water ashore to be used for public consumption. It was a lot of work. Wyatt snorted when he overheard one of the residents complaining, “I never thought about how heavy water was until I moved to Crusoe.”
When they had first arrived, such a remark would have gone unnoticed. Now, Wyatt paid attention to those things, always trying to gauge attitude, morale and sense of community. Governing what was essentially a small town appeared easy at first. Everyone seemed to pull together, given that ultimately their survival was always in question. After the newness of the island wore off, small quarrels began to pop up here and there. Initially, these minor disagreements typically involved policies or systems that impacted the entire community. Some residents, for example, tired of fish as the main source of protein. They began to lobby for investing more time in gathering alternative sources of nourishment.
Wyatt realized early on that some organized form of decision-making was going to be necessary to keep the peace. Every boater couldn’t vote on every issue that arose, so a town council of sorts was formed.
The boats were rafted together in three rows, with each row electing its own representative. A row could have an election anytime it wanted. Issues, disputes and grievances were aired before the council meetings, which were always open to the public. So far, everyone had abided by the decisions made at these morning assemblies. Wyatt had pondered more than once what would happen when someone decided they didn’t want to follow the determination of the council. To date, the rule of law had held.
Some disputes focused on the division of labor. The vast majority of the boaters were over 50 years old, and several nursed minor health issues. Todd, David, and Sage were the youngest members of the community and were initially treated like everyone’s grandchildren. After arriving at Army Hole, these younger, more energetic residents were inundated with requests to help with this, fetch that, or carry those. Happy to help at first, their generosity quickly wore off as each was assigned a normal workload on top of the friendly, informal requests. The situation eventually degraded to the point where Sage spoke up at one council meeting, asking the gathered crowd if slavery had been reinstituted while she had been sleeping.
A few personality conflicts arose as well. Essentially, everyone’s house was practically on top of the neighbors’ – a cramped experience for some. The close proximity of the boats resulted in occasional spats ranging from accusations of eavesdropping to neighbors playing loud music late into the night. One solution was the discovery that the parks department had constructed a bunkhouse next to the ranger station. This small cabin could accommodate up to eight people and had survived the years relatively intact. It was a couple from one of the smaller cabin cruisers who announced one afternoon that they were going on vacation. Tired of the small, cramped space their vessel provided, they packed up blankets, air mattresses and a picnic basket and headed to the bunkhouse for an overnighter. The Crusoe Holiday Six quickly became popular, as did camping on the beach.
As the weather grew hot, so did tempers. There was so much physical, sweaty labor involved to just provide the basics, people became easily irritated. It was Morgan who came up with the idea to reschedule as many chores as possible at night. Lights were rigged high on the boats with solar recharging. Dishes, laundry, cooking and other preparations were migrated to the cooler air of the evening.
The single biggest problem was morale. It had been almost five months since the world had fallen apart, and there wasn’t any sign of a recovery. It was the younger members of the community that worried Wyatt the most. Sage had asked her father if he thought she would ever have a date again. David had joked about how he should have married his high school sweetheart, teasing his mother over the fading hope of having grandchildren. Morgan smiled and laughed at the jest, but Wyatt knew the entire affair bothered her.
The older members of the community seemed to deal with the lack of television, internet and cell phones in stride. The “
under 30” crowd struggled with the change. For a while, DVD movies were a popular recreational activity, the young and able-bodied congregating at night to share the event. After a month or so, attendance began to drop off, and Wyatt heard mumblings about how watching the visual images of the past were depressing.
Visits to the beach for swimming, picnics and throwing Frisbees were popular for a while, but that activity began to decline in popularity as the temperate spring air turned to the blistering hot, Texas summer. Morgan commented on how the newness of sand and surf quickly wore off. It was a good thing too, as the last squirt of sunblock coincided with a sweltering day, adding to the avoidance of outdoor recreation.
There were positive aspects to life in Crusoe. Most everyone lost weight given the diet of fresh foods, increase in daily exercise, and the unavailability of quarter pounder combo meals. Several of the middle-aged residents reported having more energy than before, with colds and sniffles being almost non-existent.
Alcohol consumption was no longer an option - the last few bottles of hard liquor being designated as emergency medical supplies and locked away with
Morgan’s other first aid equipment. Wyatt chuckled out loud, thinking about how several of the men had threatened to build a still. The project had never materialized because no one knew how to ferment spirits without sugar.
Wyatt stretched his legs, his gaze wandering ashore where Todd and David were cleaning the salt from two fishing reels. He was proud of how David had become the younger boy’s friend and helped eased Crusoe’s youngest member through the problems associated with their new life. Wyatt could see how David had benefited from the relationship as well. He made a mental note to try and reward the two young men somehow.
Plymouth, Ohio
June 25, 2017
Grover gazed at what amounted to the most unusual parade Plymouth, Ohio had ever seen. In the lead was a plain-looking government sedan, complete with flashing blue lights mounted on the roof. Nothing out of the ordinary there, he mused. Most parades started with a police escort of some sort.
It was what rolled by afterwards that was so out of place. Two military Humvees with machine guns mounted on the roof were next in line. Helmeted soldiers manned the ominous-looking weapons, moving the heavy barrels right and left as they rolled by. Grover noted the shiny brass belts of ammunition hanging beneath the black guns.
Those aren’t just for show
, he thought.
Behind those armed attendants were two huge military trucks painted in forest green camouflage, accented with black stenciled numbers all over the sides. Grover guessed those were the generator trucks, but couldn’t be sure. He’d never seen anything quite like them.
Another armed Humvee was followed by two private tractor-trailers. The common over-the-road trucks were commandeered by soldiers, each cab outfitted with a rider managing the barrel of an M16 as it protruded from the window.
A bright yellow school bus followed the semis. Reflecting sunlight blocked Grover’s line of sight inside the windows, but he knew there were no schoolchildren inside. He realized that the food, electrical generators, and other equipment on its way to
Sugarhill were extremely valuable. The bus transported dozens of soldiers – designated sentries for his small machine shop.