The open water to Singapore was muy tranquila.

Jack had arranged for a racing speedboat.

What normally takes 90 minutes by a fast ferry only took 15 minutes by this monster.

I had radar and I wasn't concerned about any floaties.

At the speed I was going, the speed bump would get us airborne and even cut the travel time to Singapore.

The noise was spectacular.

People would talk about this for years to come.

The rich and famous wanted a boat just like mine.

We were reaching 350 kilometers an hour.

This was flying but the route was the 30 kilometer stretch of the Singapore Straits.

If you are going to travel, then do it this way.

Matilda was hugging for her dear life.

I encouraged it.

Waiting at Clarkson Quay was Max.

Singapore Immigration was waiting for me and wished me good luck.

'Singapore is indebted to you,' said  Duncan, the senior of the waiting party.

They even gave us bottles of Pierre drinking water.

My reputation was getting ahead of itself.

I'll catch that scum bag, I said, as Max escorted me to a hired car.


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