I Rode the Wings of the Dawn to the Farthest Oceans

By Michael Sandusky

Mike Barrier, in the process of running from love, inherits a yacht and five million dollars and decides to sail around the world. Along the way, he picks up five individuals- all with problems and issues that are played out on their 45yacht. Laugh and cry with the group, as they make their way around the world, finding adventure, mystery, romance, murder, sex, tragedy, and heartbreak. Its a love story of the sea, five individuals and a sailboat named, Becki, much of which is true. Its a story of fall and redemption. However, above all, its a love story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499040555

Michael Sandusky

Michael Sandusky is the quintessential story-telling romantic. His fifty years of writing novels, short stories, poetry, self-help books and newspaper columns have been read and enjoyed the world over. He loves deep-sea fishing, traveling to exotic locales, cooking and public speaking relating thrilling, funny and poignant stories about his adventures, narrow escapes and interpersonal relationships. He still believes that the best stories cannot be made up, but come from actual human experience. He can be reached at [e-mail]

Book preview

1

Debbie

I

M Y UNCLE GENE had never gotten along with anyone. He told me once that he detested relatives. He said, I’ve had enough of relatives, and moved away to where no one could find him. I don’t know what caused all this attitude aberration, but at my age now I can see instances where, you know, I might not blame him. The family scuttlebutt was that he had money hidden wherever he lived. He was just eccentric enough to do so, they claimed. I didn’t think he was so odd even though he had been married five times and fathered three children. One boy had a sex change operation and became a girl. The other boy became a millionaire through shrewd real estate maneuvers. I don’t know what became of the girl. The last I had heard, he was estranged from all of them. For some reason he felt he could talk to me and seemed to like me. He brought me gifts as a child and loaned me his banjo when I was a teenager. Occasionally he called me. The last time he called was when he told me he had had enough of relatives. That was the last time anyone ever heard from or saw him again.

Until now.

I held in my hand an overnight letter from Jackson McDonald and Jefferson, Attorneys in Fort Lauderdale. Mr. Jefferson stood with me on a dock not too far from his office. In front of us was the Fighting Mad sailboat that this eccentric old man had left to me. It sat silently in the water, desperately needing some maintenance.

How long has it been sitting here?

About five years. What are you going to do with it, Mr. Barrier? asked the attorney.

I thought for a while. What was I going to do with it? What was I going to do with it? To sail around the world had been on my bucket list for years.

I’m going to sail around the world, I blurted, with confidence that even surprised me.

Sail around the world, huh? Uh-huh. Well, good luck. You’ll need this also. Don’t spend it all in one place… maybe you should buy a new yacht.

He handed a check to me and I stood motionless as I read, Five Million Dollars. He had to bring me back to attention. I guess I was lost in the wonder of it all. Sign here, he said, handing me a pen and a clipboard with some legal papers on it. I did so with illegible penmanship, I’m sure. He turned and walked away and I turned to say something like, What do I do now? but it never came out.

Fort Lauderdale was not new to me. I had come here a number of times to go fishing and done quite well. Sailing was not new to me either, but I was yet a novice in trying to navigate oceans. A quick scan of yacht restorers in the area led me to Bain Brothers. In business since 1957, I read. A quick trip to see them, and a rep to accompany me back to the boat, was secured in one day. The rep’s name was Enrique and he looked more like a restorer with glue on his hands than a Florida-shirted field rep.

This is your boat?

Yeah, my uncle left it to me.

I followed the man as he jumped to the edge of the boat and then put a gangway across for me to get on. Tell me all about this, I said. Well it’s a Hylas Queen Long forty-six foot. I was amazed at the beauty of the inside with all its wood. You’ve got a galley that’s bigger than most boats, the way it’s laid out. Navigation table, here, Communication, here. Back here… you’ve got two heads. One master bedroom, one guest bedroom, one Pullman… no two Pullmans. Of course, you can see the main seating area and also the dining area. Uh… diesel engine. Two air conditioners… lots of storage, it looks like. You have a very nice boat here.

Where does it need work?

I’ll have to start the engine and take it out to determine the mechanics. Otherwise, the outside needs to be stripped and repainted. You’ll probably need new sails. The inside looks pretty good, just needs to be cleaned up and detailed.

How much would it cost to have all that done?

He thought for a while and then took out paper and pen and did some figuring. We sat down at the dining table and I waited as he scribbled numbers on his pad. You’re looking at somewhere between a hundred and fifty thousand and two hundred thousand, depending on what we find.

How long to do that work?

About a month, unless there’s a problem with parts.

Ok, go ahead and I’ll check back in a month.

He leaned back in his chair and smiled, while folding his arms in front of him. Do you know anything about sailing? He was up on me. I never was a good liar. I couldn’t keep a straight face or have a truthful look in my eye. That was another of my failures. I decided to tell the truth.

Not much.

I figured. I can tell by just looking at you. Now, what he meant by that is beyond me. Was my face not weathered enough? Did I have a sign on my forehead flashing, Don’t know nothing.

What do you plan to do with this? Sell it? If so, you’ll be further ahead by foregoing these repairs and… .

I’m going to sail around the world.

By the looks of his bulging eyeballs, I’m not sure if he was trying to suppress a laugh, had a thyroid problem, was teary because of the salt air, or what. Finally, He seemed to regain his composure and his eyeballs were not protruding as much as when he was trying to suppress himself. You know, he cleared his throat, it will be difficult to sail this by yourself… it’s really a two-man vessel. I didn’t know that. He was probably right though… well, of course, he was right. He knew more about these things than me. Then I shall ask your help in finding a mate as well.

II

My kids didn’t go for the idea. I was too old to be traipsing around the world, especially with their inheritance money. At least, that’s the way I took it. They said I had reached a state of desperation and this was my way of dealing with the situations I had encountered over the last few years. My problems would follow me all around the globe, they declared. I assured them, that at least, I would have fun with the money. They didn’t like that response at all. Maybe I shouldn’t have told them to not run with scissors in their hands. Now it was coming back on me.

The boat was finished in a month and looked new. I was very pleased with such craftsmanship. They had changed the name as I had requested and done the licensing, re-commissioning, transfer of ownership papers and information that all sea-going vessels were required to maintain. They, however, had not been able to find a mate, someone who was capable of piloting the boat at least across the Atlantic. I decided to put an ad in several papers. I took calls and waited at one of the oceanfront oyster bars in Fort Lauderdale to interview. In the harbor across the street, the sun gilded the forest of topmasts. My boat blended in well and I could see it from my seat.

Then they started arriving. One Cuban, who insisted on starting with rum and a cigar before negotiations. No, too headstrong. Another, whose teeth had rotted out and the way it looked, were still rotting. I was tempted to take a vacuum cleaner to his mouth. I didn’t think I could take that for such a long period of time. Another had lazy eye and I didn’t know which one to look at, without being consternated for the entire voyage. One after another they came.

Sailed across the ocean?

No, but did a lake once in my cousin’s dinghy. Nope.

Can you cook? Uh-uh, don’t do windows either." Nope.

Know any other languages besides English?

Uh… pig Latin. Get outta here.

I was unsure about the pretty boys, thinking I would either have to put up with girls on board in the ports… or maybe even guys. Besides, I didn’t need to be jealous of someone who was better looking than me.

With two would-be, almost suitable candidates in tow, I led the way down to the boat and disregarded the question of why the boat was named that name. I asked the first man to start the engine. He looked around and wandered into the back living area and pretty soon I heard the head flush. That wasn’t it, he grinned sheepishly as he returned. You’re not it either, I responded. Good bye. I looked at the final candidate. Why don’t you just tell me where you would start the engine. He pointed up the ladder to the pilot’s booth and I followed him up. Start ’er up, I grinned. It looked like we were getting close. He knew just what to do and, in fact, pointed out the various instruments and what they meant. There were no bottles of whiskey stuffed in his pockets; he knew how to cook; appeared decent looking and was weathered from the sun. He had done this a lot.

Are you ready to sail around the world?

Whoa! You didn’t say, ‘sail around the world.’ I can’t do that. I’m married and have three kids! This time I was the one disappointed. I watched him walk away as the sun set behind me. ‘Maybe this wasn’t going to work,’ I mused. Then I started thinking ridiculous thoughts like ‘maybe I can do this by myself.’ No… that was it for today. I settled down on the couch and began to read a book I had bought - How to sail a boat without cracking up, capsizing or killing yourself. I guess it was a book for dummies. After nodding off, I doused the lights and then climbed naked into bed.

The sun rose early and I just laid there smelling the salt air and feeling the cool breeze, enjoying the slow lolling of the boat. Some fishing boats had already left as had the sport fishing charters. I knew it was after 8 AM. I got up and walked into the galley to make coffee.

Anybody up?

I turned around and looked towards the entrance whose door had been open all night. If what was above, unseen, was as desirable as the two shapely legs topped with short shorts, then it was worth a gamble to be up.

Sure… come on in.

The slender figure came down the steps slowly as though I was to spend time relishing with delight what was being painted on the canvas before me. Or was that my imagination? Her ankles were nicely fashioned and her halter top generously filled. She had green eyes, an upturned nose and long, blonde hair, soft and carefully curled at the end.

‘Oboy.’

Heard you were looking for a mate?

Well, I am divorced, but don’t need a mate right now. I responded wanting to clear my brain with the coffee. She laughed. I guess it’s not too early to be funny. Actually, I had missed the play on words and thought that my ignorant answer was due to no coffee. Well, I’ll tell you right up front… I wondered why she would occasionally look away. She was already sending me negative signals if she couldn’t look at me when either one of us spoke. . . . I want to sail around the world. Are you capable? She turned and looked me in the eye. Yes… I am capable, but do have a question. Is nakedness required? Obviously, the coffee had been slow to work. I rushed back into the bedroom and put on some shorts, then came out with a look more like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, than the skipper of a yacht.

So… tell me about yourself and why I should have you as a mate… a sailor girl, I smiled.

She laughed. Well, my name is Debbie. I’m not married and have no children… . Her voice broke just slightly here, but she quickly continued. I can cook… and uh… I have not sailed across the Atlantic, however, I have sailed throughout the Caribbean and down the coast of South America almost to the horn… at least to where the waters began to get a little rough. I know Spanish and some Cuban and even a little Creole. I will tell you though, that it’s been about three years since I’ve sailed, but it’s like riding a bike… once you learn, you never forget.

Why haven’t you been sailing in three years?

Oh… I was just away from the water… .

She had promise. I just wasn’t sure how I could handle a female for such a long period of time. I told her to start it up and take us out and then stood to watch as she started the engine. Finally, she turned around and looked down at me, Well, I can’t do everything, you’re gonna have to untie us from the slip!

Of course! I climbed onto the dock and slipped the ties off of the knobs and then jumped back into the boat. She angled the boat out and slowly made her way towards the opening of the marina. I was excited to finally be riding in my new toy. I climbed the ladder up to the pilot’s cabin and watched as we headed into the Atlantic. At length she turned the engine off and we sat there rocking with the waves.

You don’t know much about sailing do you? she smiled.

How did you guess?

You’re like a little boy… that’s ok. You can learn. You’ll have to. This is a two-man ship. You ready to lift sail? I was and followed her out onto the deck. When we’re both out here the steering needs to be locked, which we just did. You start with the big boom first. It gets locked now. If it’s not, you can get knocked into the sea which I guarantee is going to happen to you at least once, she laughed. Then you turn this wheel to lift the mainsail. It’s easier with two people, but can be done by one. Then you lock the jib in place if it’s attached and turn this wheel to lift that sail. Whenever any of this happens, hold on for the wind will catch the sails and tilt the boat while it takes off. You ready?"

I was and went to work on the jib, raising it to the top. She waited and watched as I did so. I was quite proud to see my smaller sail to the top of the mast and felt that I had accomplished a lot for a novice. Now you go into the cabin and just hold onto the wheel for a bit. I obeyed and then watched her as she raised the mainsail. I noticed her arms were muscular and she did so quickly. When it reached the top of the mast the boat tilted and began to speed through the waters. She held onto the booms as she made her way back to me. It was exciting now for we were sailing through the water with the quietness of the wind. She unlocked the wheel as well as the remote locks for the booms and maneuvered all over the water outside of Fort Lauderdale. She let me do the same and then watched as I sailed into the marina. At that point, we started the engine and made our way slowly back to the slip. Once back, I tied us down and she lowered the sails and furled them.

My question is this, Mr… .?

Barrier… Mike Barrier.

Are you ready for this? The loneliness, the isolation, the solitude… .

Well… I was convinced to hire her, but wasn’t sure if I wanted a philosopher to boot. I didn’t want to tell her she was my last choice… that I had taken what was left over. It was difficult to find someone who was willing to sail into the unknown and for such a long length of time. My only consolation was remembering that Columbus had terrible difficulty in finding sea-goers for his three ships and finally had to accept convicts in exchange for their freedom.

I’ve decided to hire you, Debbie.

You won’t be sorry.

Do you have a driver’s license and a pilot’s license?

Well, I haven’t had a car for a while, so I didn’t get my license reinstated, er, renewed. The pilot’s license? Yes, I had one, but it’s no good now since I’ve been out of the action for three years.

Her answers were sufficient and I gave her a credit card with a $3000 limit to begin buying supplies to stock the ship. I hoped I wouldn’t be sorry. After all, I had no information on the girl.

Is it OK if I stay here tonight? she asked. I showed her the second bedroom and then left to buy my own personal supplies.

III

Five days later we were without view of land. The engine had long since been silenced. I stood at the wheel feeling as though I was in heaven as the newly-named boat weaved its way through deep, blue, foam-tipped waves. It was exhilarating to feel the swoop and dip of the vessel through a benign sea. You could count, on the rhythmic swoosh of the bow wave.

At my insistence, we decided to play it safe on this first leg of the journey and follow the shipping lanes from Florida to the Canaries. We would resupply there and then sail the short distance to Morocco. Then plans were to sail down the coast of Africa. I had taken this transatlantic route eight times on cruise ships.

Eight times?

Yeah, I guess that’s how I fell in love with the sea. Its… vastness and mystery and solitude… .

And freedom, she added. She was contemplative. All around us was the unnervingly, uncluttered sea. Its only comparison could be a snow-covered landscape in which all growth is hidden by a white blanket. There was nothing in either the ocean or the landscape that would give the semblance of clutter. We were in a fascinating and remote wilderness. I loved it. I was never bored. I couldn’t be. There was too much to learn.

Debbie was a good teacher. Emergency actions were learned first. Man overboard, injuries, loss of sail, capsizing. Then, emergency actions in the mechanics. She sat down with me at the navigation panel and explained the radios and navigation and weather equipment. Finally, she taught me how to sail alone if I needed to do so. She was vivacious, although reserved at times as though thinking of things far away. She would stand on the bow, sometimes naked and stretch out her arms and let the wind blow her hair back. I afforded her this privacy by setting the auto-pilot and retreating down inside the cabin to write or read.

I noticed that all the clothes she brought on board including the three bikinis were new and obviously purchased on my credit card. Apparently, I had paid for everything she brought on board except for one item. I discovered it one night after we had cut sail in calm seas. She had excused herself from a light dinner early, claiming fatigue, but I stayed up later to read. I awakened, having fallen to sleep with the book in my hand, to some kind of a yell. I jumped up and ran to the deck, but she was not topside. I went to her bedroom and quietly slid her door open. She was lying naked on her stomach. I was not surprised that she slept in the nude, but I was surprised at the gun that was under her outstretched hand. ‘Must have been dreaming,’ I thought. ‘Why would she have a gun? For me? For her? For someone else?’ I slid the door closed and went back to my bed. What had I done? Hired a psychopath? A murderer? Maybe she slept like that every night and was afraid I would come into her. That didn’t make sense though, for I could have done so, at any time of the day, on this voyage. She was an exhibitionist and never asked if it was alright with me if she was nude at times. She just did it.

I was a little concerned that she was late in getting up the next morning. ‘Surely I would have heard if the gun had gone off,’ I thought. ‘Man, I’m getting paranoid.’ I knocked on her door… You getting up? You should see this beautiful red sunrise it’s… . She nearly knocked me down as she slid the door open and ran to the navigation panel and looked at the barometer. Then she ran up to the deck and looked to the east. Come up here! she motioned. I went up and looked at the beautiful sunrise once again. You see that? she pointed. You ever hear the phrase, ‘Red sky in the morning, sailor, take warning?’ Now that she had mentioned it, yes, I had heard that phrase.

We’re heading into a storm? I asked.

No, turn around.

I did so to see dark skies behind me. Many storms come from the west, she said as she started to descend the stairs. We’ll eat a good breakfast, you get your sea-sick pills ready if you need them and then we’re going to get this girl ready for her first real test under her new name. I’m going to go get some clothes on.

IV

We raised the storm jib. We were going to ride it out. She kept checking the barometer and listening to the weather reports and other chatter on the air from other ships in the area. Everything was tightened down. She fiddled with the radio.

Why don’t you ever look at me?

Huh?

Why don’t you ever look at me… I mean more than you do? I walk around here with nothing on and it doesn’t seem to faze you? Are you gay?

Maybe I don’t want to mix business with pleasure.

Pleasure? This whole trip is pleasure. Am I not desirable?

I didn’t hire you to be desirable. I hired you to teach me how to pilot this boat… and to cook. That’s all. I’m sure you’re desirable to the right man. She didn’t seem pleased with that response.

Well, don’t think I put on clothes to keep you from temptation. I just need something under the safety harness that’s all. She got up and went topside.

The winds picked up considerably to fifteen knots in the late afternoon. I watched as the western sky increased in darkness, but when the waves began pitching the boat about we both hooked up to our safety harnesses. The pilot’s berth and wheel were up top, but only protected on the sides by heavy plastic, which rolled up and down depending on the elements. The reduced sail would keep our speed down to about two knots, just enough to keep us pointed right in dealing with the waves. I had learned my lesson with sea-sickness on one of the fishing expeditions I had been on in the past. As far as I was concerned, the worst regurgitation available to the human body is sea-sickness and alcoholic poisoning. After experiencing either of those two gut-wrenching activities you swear you will never go out on the ocean again and you’ll never touch a drop of alcohol the rest of your life—even if it kills you—which it probably will. Yes, as Debbie had suggested I took my sea-sickness pills and was doing fine.

The rain began just shortly after the lightning started. We could see nothing, even when the sky was lit up like a small town on Saturday night. Debbie kept the boat pointed to the north-east as well as she could, at least until a wave came crashing over the hull and drenched us both in the pilot’s berth. What was worse though was the jib sail was now pointed forty-five degrees off course. It would need to be reset and that was my responsibility. I made my way out onto the deck holding on to as much rail as I could, for the winds were now at twenty-five knots. I grabbed hold of the jib and pulled it back until I could see Debbie nodding that it was in place. I began to make my way back, but once again a wave crashed over the hull and knocked me into the beam. It hurt, but probably more so to my pride than my body. I again began to head back to the pilot’s berth when another wave caught me and tossed me into the water. I felt my tether on the harness go taut and began to attempt to swim back to the boat when a cross-wave caught me. At first I was glad for it would make the distance shorter and my return to the boat faster, but then I yelled getting a mouthful of saltwater for it lifted me high into the air and then threw me back against the side of the boat.

V

There was sunlight in the cabin. I closed my eyes again hoping the glare would not increase my headache. My head felt as though it was in a vise with an elephant sitting on it. I reached up to feel it and felt what had to be a bandage.

How do you feel? Debbie was standing over me. Like an elephant is sitting on my head, I moaned. Did I miss the storm?

Yeah, slept most of the way through it, she laughed. This is a two-man boat, Mr. Barrier… did you forget? I listened as she recounted the events of the evening telling how the wave had swept me off the deck. I remembered that, as well as being thrust back by the safety harness and slamming into the side of the hull. That’s all. When she saw that I was not responding, she dove into the water and kept my head above the foam. With difficulty she made it back to the boat, but only after a wave had tossed us both onto the deck. That explained the ache in my back. She had quickly unpinned the harness and got me below, where she had taken care of the bloody wound on my head. She had taken off my clothes, dried me off and got me into the bed where I was still unconscious. She had called for help, but had been unable to get through to anyone. The boat was unharmed, she related, and had passed her test well. Its sailors were the ones who needed work. She had set the auto-pilot so we could both get some sleep after such an adrenalin-packed night. I was grateful for that. My headache eventually went away and yielded only to the soreness of my head. I got up when I heard banging in the galley. I was immediately chastised when I stuck my head out the door.

Get back! The galley’s mine, tonight.

It’s always yours, I quipped.

Well… it’s especially mine tonight! Give me an hour and then put on something nice. If I can wear clothes… you can wear clothes.

OK Cap’n, I muttered as I fell back on the bed. I dozed for almost an hour then got up and put on a nice shirt with a collar, white pants and deck shoes with no socks of course. When I came out, the galley was a mess. I went topside and there was a small table set up with candles burning and wine already poured. She was nowhere to be found so I sat down in the chair and watched the sun just barely touching the water. Soon she appeared in a white, strapless, short gown. It was more like a cocktail dress than a sundress. Somehow I think I had paid for that, but she looked good in it.

No fish tonight… meat braised in red wine with new potatoes and… well, we still have seaweed salad, but I fixed it different. I smiled, wanting to say something like, after that storm you want to be sure to eat the meat just in case it might be lost to the elements… I see. I didn’t though, because this meant something to her. I hoped it wasn’t going to be a play for me. I had too much to lose… especially to some femme fatale with a gun. It had all the venues of romance though- the dinner, nice dress amply fitted, candlelight and sunset. We sat and talked, but when the conversation turned to my children and wives I decided to move in a different direction… one in which I was extremely curious.

Uh… you walk around here with no clothes on sometimes and… .

Oh, you noticed? She leaned forward, apparently to give me a better view.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Uh, yeah… and uh… I noticed a number tattooed on your ankle… .

She got up quickly and took hold of the dishes, loudly stacking them onto each other. Alright, so I’m some concentration camp… escapee, she huffed as she hurried down into the galley. Then she was back up just as fast. Or maybe I’m just white trash. I walk around with nothing on and you… all you can see is a number on my ankle! Ooh! She wasn’t done. She stripped the dress off and lifted her left leg up onto the table and pointed at her ankle. There! There’s a good close up of it! You wanna memorize it! 15949. Got it! It’s a prison number! Do the dishes yourself! She stormed into her bedroom.

Wow. I might as well be married. I picked the dress up off the deck, knowing that obviously I had hit a raw nerve. Now I’m sure I should sleep with my gun under the pillow. I cleaned the dishes and put things away then retreated to what I hoped was my castle of refuge. I pulled my Glock out from under the bed and made sure the chamber was filled. Prison, huh? That would explain no driver’s license as well as no pilot’s license. But for what? She didn’t look like some weathered and hardened convict. She kept a gun… was she raped? If she was a felon… she wasn’t supposed to have a gun. My head was starting to hurt again and I don’t think it was from being banged up against the hull.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

2

Redeemed

I

I WAS UP EARLY, having changed the bandage on my head by myself. Her bedroom door was still closed so I went topside after making my coffee and just sat watching the sun rise from the water. Once again, it was blood-red. In spite of the head injury in the last storm, I felt that the boat had weathered the storm well. Of course, I was knocked out for most of it and my conversation with the only one who had experienced it had ended with me having to do the dishes. In any case, we weren’t sinking so there must not be any holes in the boat.

Here… we deserve a break this morning. I turned around and saw her approaching with two bowls of frozen strawberries. She sat down across from me and was fully clothed in shorts and a yellow bikini bra. I’m sorry about last night, she said with eyes downcast. I said nothing. I really need your forgiveness about this… Mike… I truly am sorry. I heard her voice break and while I had no ill will towards her actions, I was really confused more than anything. I do forgive you and hope it won’t happen again… I really need someone stable to pilot this ship. She looked up at me and smiled weakly. It won’t happen again.

I looked out at the sun having just left the ocean spray now and really wanted to know why she was in prison, but didn’t feel I had the freedom yet to inquire.

Ahem… yes, I spent two years in prison… .

Two years? Then surely it couldn’t have been anything bad. Petty larceny or small robbery or maybe, even white collar crime. Why had I been so worried? Why… a judge having a bad day was capable of such injustice. Apparently, she didn’t share my feelings about the matter.

You ever been in jail, Mike? Ha! Of course not. People of your stature lead perfect lives. There was a long pause as she put a strawberry into her mouth. I had never noticed her lips before… they were full and luscious. You never want to go there. It’s a terrible place. They do despicable things to you… not just the inmates, but the guards as well. Teardrops began to roll down her cheeks. I picked up a napkin and handed it to her. She wiped her face dry and I watched her lips quiver. It depends on what you did as to the treatment you get. It was here that I wanted to know what it was, but decided to wait thinking it would come out anyway. She looked at me with tear-filled emerald eyes. You survive that hell (sniff) and when you get out you discover that the one you thought would wait for you (sniff). The one you promised to stay with all your life through sickness and in health… (sniff) is gone. With that, the tears flowed freely and this tough sailor girl suddenly became a little lost girl struggling to find her way. I moved over to her and took her in my arms and just held her. There are times when words just won’t suffice and this was one of them. I used to have such a perfect life (sniff). I was so happy and (sniff) then it was all taken away. I’m not a good person, Mike. She released herself from my arms and sat back in her chair dabbing at her puffy eyes. I’m a good sailor… but not a good person. There was quietness now.

Well, we have a choice, she smiled, as she looked at the sun and then back to the west at the darkened sky. We can weather another storm or we can try to beat it to Lanzarote.

Let’s make a run for it, I smiled, getting up from the table. I would hoist the mainsail, still not knowing why she had been in prison.

II

We made it to the marina in Lanzarote with the storm on our tail. I was proud of the girl and the twelve knots she had made. Debbie said she was capable of a lot more with the right conditions. I wanted to get the sails down right away, but we were met first by the Coast Guard and then by the port captain who jumped on board as Debbie was tying us down. I was surprised at how slowly she was doing so, but soon I learned why.

Need to see your log and vaccinations, mate, was the first thing said to me by the man. He appeared to be about forty, clean shaven and in a fine pressed, white seaman’s land suit. Tried to beat the storm, huh? he smiled.

Yes, I’m quite proud of the way she caught the wind… .

I see this boat has been re-commissioned… and has a new name.

That is correct.

Everything seems to be in order here. I need to see your passports now.

I pulled mine from the leather water-proof pouch and he stamped it.

And the young lady? The one out on the dock?

Uh… Debbie, can you come up here please? I hoped I wasn’t in for more of a surprise than what I was thinking. He needs to see your passport, I said, as she appeared before both of us.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I… uh… I don’t have one. I wasn’t surprised although I had completely forgotten about it when I was interviewing her. How do you expect to see our island or anywhere else in the world without one, young lady? He was being condescending now. Debbie had to be at least thirty years of age. Why don’t you have a passport? She, of course, would say nothing about felons being unable to secure one… legally. Do you have any other means of identification… a driver’s license, birth certificate?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

No sir, I don’t… uh… this opportunity just appeared and I jumped so quick I forgot those things and… .

So you have no means of identification at all?

I have a charm bracelet with my name on it… . He was not amused.

All right… you are forbidden to get off this ship. You can’t even untie the vessel from the dock when you leave. If you should do so… you will be fined ten thousand American dollars and or imprisonment for up to one year. Do I make myself clear? We both understood, but how was I going to deal with this going around an entire globe?

Well, let’s get these sails down and batten everything else as well and fix something to eat. If the weather is ok tomorrow, I’ll go in to get supplies. She said nothing, but worked quietly having been scolded. The storm reached us about midnight, but the marina offered good protection and I was glad to have paid for the slip rather than mooring further out where the seas could get rough. Other than the gentle lolling of the boat and a lot of rain, it wasn’t bad at all. The rain stopped just before noon the next day.

Debbie had made a list of the provisions we would need sailing down the coast of Africa. While we would be making several stops, we planned enough provisions to get us to Capetown. Since she couldn’t get out on the dock, I would have to deal with the diesel refueling and the refilling of our fresh-water tanks. She was left with the hapless, but necessary job of scrubbing down the deck and cleaning the salt off of everything.

Lanzarote is on an island with at least one hundred and twenty one volcanoes. Black lava is everywhere. All the buildings are white with blue doors. There’s a reason for this. One woman’s husband would come home inebriated every night and would be unable to find his own home, because all the buildings were white. She got tired of having to go out and find him so she painted her door blue. Now it was easy for him to spot his own home. The only problem though is that every other woman who was having the same problem did the same thing when they saw what worked. After a while nearly every door was blue and they were back to square one.

I spent the entire day out buying supplies and then arranging for delivery of them to the boat. I picked a bit of jewelry out for Debbie… and not really knowing why I did so. Surely I wasn’t falling for her… no… why I didn’t even know her last name… if she had one. I caught a horse-drawn cart back to the marina and hoped she would have a nice dinner waiting for us. I would rather have gone out on the island for regional food, but I guess that was out unless we ordered take out and that’s one of the things I had hoped to leave behind in the States.

Debbie was not on the boat.

A lot of things went through my mind. If she had abandoned ship, I was now without a pilot. If she had been caught I was now at least ten thousand dollars poorer… and still without a pilot. My thoughts were interrupted by two young policemen on bicycles.

Are you Mr. Barrier?

Yes.

Your mate is in the city jail… .

City jail? Well, she had gotten off to look around and sure enough had been caught. I was not happy. I was even less happy when I heard why.

She has been arrested and is being charged for ‘assault with intent to do bodily harm.’

III

She looked cold in the cell or maybe it was just her demeanor that shouted to me as I approached her. She sat on a cot with her arms resting on her knees and hands folded, looking down at the floor. Her long blond hair drooped with the gravity towards the floor and appeared desperately in need of a shampoo and combing. Well, it was a mess. She still had on the shorts and bikini bra, but was barefoot. When she heard me at the bars, she got up slowly and walked over with her head bowed.

Sorry, Mike.

I stood there having not rehearsed anything on the way to the compound, because frankly, I was incredulous at… not necessarily her, but myself for having gotten into this situation. I hired a person to pilot my boat and here I am over a thousand miles from home in a foreign country with no one to sail this big vessel and I will be ten thousand dollars poorer in spite of that. What man hires a beautiful, well-endowed woman who tends to walk around in the nude, but carries a gun and has been in prison? No driver’s license, no pilot’s license, no passport, no ID of any kind and then ends up in jail on foreign soil. The man who does that kind of thing is either a sap, thinks between his legs, or is just plain naive. I didn’t have time to consider where I fit in among those choices… .

What were you thinking? I asked.

I… I just felt that I needed to do something… she said with eyes still on the ground.

You… you didn’t use your gun did you?

She was surprised at that remark wondering, I think, how I knew about the gun. No, of course not.

Well, couldn’t you have just stayed on the boat for a day and… .?

Mike, he was beating the little boy black and blue… I couldn’t take that… OK? I couldn’t stand there and watch that! She started to cry now. I’d do the same thing over again.

I sighed. Why did life have to be so hard? I rubbed my forehead with the palm of my right hand. Look, just go, she said quietly. Surely you can find someone else on this island to get you to Morocco. I’m bad news. I’m no good for you or anyone else.

No, Debbie, you’re not bad news… you’re just… surprising, unexpected news. Let me see what needs to be done. I walked away and found the desk sergeant, who let me read the charges. She had attacked a man who was disciplining his little boy. He had filed a complaint against her and then complained of bruises and damage to his eyeballs. She was to appear before the judge who would determine guilt and provide sentencing the next morning. There was nothing in the charges about not having a passport.

It made no difference though, as the passport was brought up the next morning. She was found guilty, sentenced to three years in the prison compound on the other side of the island, ordered to work off the ten thousand dollar fine for the passport, as well as five thousand dollars for medical treatment for the man’s eyeballs.

I don’t know what else to do, I said when I visited her that afternoon.

Mike… I can’t do prison again. I’ll kill myself rather than go back to that hell-hole. I’m of no use to this earth anyway.

Don’t talk like that! You saved that little boy from any further abuse!

She looked pensive for a moment. Yeah, she smiled weakly, I did, at that, didn’t I? We just stood there for a few minutes. At length she leaned over and whispered to me: I can get out of here during the transfer. You get the boat ready and tend it over at the dock closest to the prison. Have it ready to go tomorrow night… and uh… I need two thousand dollars.

It was the last few words that caused the newly installed sap alarm to go off in my head. Ah Debbie, com’ on… .

Look! I learned a few things in prison the first time. It just takes a good bribe… and besides I saved you ten thousand dollars.

Huh?

You don’t have to pay the ten thousand dollar passport fine since I have to work it off.

I… I… that’s like using twenty dollars worth of gas to go across town to save one dollar on a loaf of bread! I walked away thinking any woman who thinks like that should not be carrying a gun. I was chastised later though, when I realized my own errors in logic as well as common sense, when I hired her without proper investigation. I forced myself to not consider the logic of such actions as she was requesting and brought the money in one hundred dollar bills before the end of the day. I felt as though I was kissing it and her good-bye. Nonetheless, I refueled and filled the tanks with fresh water and then logged out of the slip the next morning. I motored around the island to the dock closest to the prison and after tying down waited there the rest of the day. The port captain cleared me seeing that I had already gone through entrance requirements on the other side of the island.

It was around eight o’clock when I heard dogs barking. Just to be safe, I untied the boat from the slip. ‘Surely, that wouldn’t be her,’ I mused. ‘No, that would just be adding insult to… .’

Start the engine! came a faint cry.

Why am I surprised? I said audibly. I looked and could see a shadowy figure running down the road to the dock. Flashlights and baying dogs were a ways behind her. I started the engine and within minutes she was bounding off the dock and onto the boat. She was wearing an ugly gray uniform that appeared to have been designed by zombies living deep in a coal mine.

Let’s get out of here! she yelled, taking the controls and gunning the engine into the black of night. It would be awhile before the Coast Guard would begin its search, but they wouldn’t find us for we had left the shipping lanes completely.

IV

Nothing was said as the boat sped over the foam-tipped waves of the dark ocean. She apparently had read the charts and knew what lay before us as we sped into the black void with no running lights. After two hours she cut the engine.

Here’s your money back, she said handing me a handful of hundred dollar bills. She stripped off the prison uniform and threw it into the depths. Where’s your shorts and bra? I asked, turning my eyes, as she went below. She returned shortly wearing different shorts and putting on another bra. Traded ’em for my freedom, she responded.

You got to the female guard?

She laughed. No female guards in that prison. Don’t ask, be glad you got your money back.

I went to bed that night trying to rid my mind of the kaleidoscope of events that were flashing like a beacon in my bedroom and refusing to let my eyes find any slumber. Here I was in the middle of the ocean somewhere off of Africa, with a woman who has a prison record… no, make that two prison records. She carries a gun, has no identification, has some kind of secret and what is worse… I think I am falling for her. What were we becoming? Bonnie and Clyde of the ocean? King and Queen of the Trigger fish?

She awakened me the next morning by gently rubbing my arm as if nothing had happened. I put on some shorts and went out on deck where breakfast was waiting. I took the tomato juice expecting just that, but it was a Bloody Mary instead.

Is this to forget or to celebrate? I asked.

To celebrate.

Celebrate? Turning my life into a James Bond escapade?

Ha! I beat that piece of trash to a pulp and gouged his eyes. The little boy ran away. I feel like… like I’ve been vindicated.

Why would you feel that? I don’t understand.

She looked off at the horizon with the sun halfway up in the water. She took a piece of the cantaloupe and put it in her mouth. I saw a tear forming in her left eye. Then it rolled down her cheek. I handed her a napkin, but she didn’t use it. I picked it up and started to dab at her cheek, but she brushed my hand away.

Who am I trying to fool? she said weakly. I could save a hundred children and it would do no good… even if I cried ten thousand tears it would not be enough.

We just sat there watching the sun come up and the stillness of the waters. It was quiet—no birds or any noise of any kind, not even the lapping of water against the boat. Finally, I saw her lip quiver.

Did you ever do something, Mike, that you just can’t get out of your mind? Something, that haunts and follows you, like a ball and chain on your leg?"

Something that even the expanse of an ocean can’t make disappear? I queried.

She turned to face me with tears streaming down her cheeks and shook her head with short up and down movements quickly. She looked at me with those mesmerizing green, even emerald eyes now puffed and bloodshot and then began to wail. Crying women cause confusion in most men, but this woman needed to be held, so I took her in my arms and just held her as she sobbed upon my shoulder. Her body heaved up and down in convulsive sobs. She put her arms around my neck with tears gushing from her innermost being.

I… (sob) I… ki… (sob)I kill… (sob) . . . .

It’s ok, it’s ok, go ahead and talk… let it out… .

I… (sob) I… (sob) I killed my little boy! With this she pushed away from me and fell to the deck on her back weeping. I sat there, stunned. At last I got down on my knees, beside her wanting desperately to say something, but there was nothing to be said. There was nothing that could even come close to assuaging the pain that this woman felt. I sat there next to her for a long time just holding her hand. I knew nothing of the story or the course of events, but I was familiar with parents who had lost a child and the astonishing grief that came from such an incident. Here, however, was a woman who apparently had killed her own child, spent time in prison for it and upon being released found that her husband had left her.

At last the weeping ceased and she just lay there with me sitting by her side.

The gun you saw… it wasn’t for you or for anyone else. If anything, I hoped you would punish me. I hoped that if I paraded around here with nothing on you would treat me like I deserved to be treated. The gun? Heh, heh, it was for me. The final solution… . I said nothing. He was only six years old… the apple of my eye… . Here came the tears again from a bottomless pit deep within her soul. I… (sob) I just went into the store for a minute… only (sob) to get orange juice and when I came (sob) back out he was dead… from the heat… still strapped into the car seat. I (sob) couldn’t revive him! His little lifeless body (sob), his (sob) little hands that I had held.

I couldn’t even fathom the angst and profound grief, and the guilt that this woman was feeling. They said I was a bad mother… which I was… and charged me with manslaughter and put me away for two years. They thought prison would be punishment enough. The prison of my mind is a thousand times worse. She attempted to rise and sit up now, so I helped her.

But mistakes happen, I said, and then realized the futility of such inane words.

She looked at me and smiled. It’s alright… I know you mean well.

V

We spent the entire day just sitting there. There would be no ships passing by or planes flying overhead. We were off the grid as they say. The next day we decided to go on to Morocco so we kept the small sail up for trolling. Hopefully, there would be mahi-mahi in these waters between the islands and Morocco. I settled into the chair while Debbie baited the hook and then threw it out behind us. She put her hand on the back of my head and rubbed tenderly, it and the scruff of my neck. I debated whether to tell her that was my favorite touch, but it was in another life and would force me to relay the secrets that I held close to my heart. I don’t know what it was about the cleansing we had experienced while in Lanzarote and in the stillness of the waters yesterday. I’m tenderhearted anyway, maybe it was sorrow about her child, maybe I was trying to be a rescuer and get her back on the right track. No passport and no identification of any kind… would be a liability, unless I could find someone to forge such documents. I felt guilty even thinking of such clandestine possibilities. Maybe… deep down inside I knew she would never be able to forgive herself and didn’t even know if I could walk through such guilt with her for the rest of her life. It appeared to be hopeless, yet for whatever reason… I was falling in love with her. I believe she had already done so with me once she realized I was not judging her.

I clipped the rod and reel in to the chair and prepared to relax.

She handed me a cold lemonade and sat down beside me. We smiled at each other when the Eric Clapton CD began. I didn’t have to ask her, but I knew she was thinking of that slow dance on board the night before to the same music. They used to pay ten cents a dance in the old days to get a girl to dance with you. I figured this dance almost cost me ten thousand dollars. Funny… I couldn’t remember what she looked like naked. Now that I could appreciate her… she was wearing clothes. What kind of a cruel joke is that?

We waited, listening to the music. Occasionally, her hand would come over and just touch mine. How did she know that was another of the touches that endeared me to her? How could she be meeting my needs so readily… unless I was really the fugitive here? She had spent two years in a physical prison and even longer in mental incarceration. Maybe though, the real inmate was me. Sailing around the world was my way of escaping. Do I dare tell her what I was running from? No, let her rescue me and pay my fine and then perhaps I would come clean like she had done.

There! Got it! I exclaimed. The fish had taken the bait and it looked like it would be fresh fish supper tonight. She furled the main sail to stop our progress. She watched, smiling, as I brought it close to the surface. Its blue-green colors were the gorgeous markings of a mahi-mahi and probably about twenty pounds. The look in her eyes was one of… I guess admiration mixed with some love. The fish gave a good show with three jumps out of the water and then came close enough for me to reach the leader. She held the rod while I stretched to grasp the double line and then once I had it, wrapped it around my wrist three times. The leader was ten feet in length, but soon I had the fish up to the surface and was pulling it from the water when… the open mouth of a large shark broke the surface and snatched the fish from my hand.

Debbie screamed in horror as the shark pulled the fish, the leader and Mike, whose wrist was wrapped tight with the leader, out away from the boat. She grabbed the bait knife and putting it between her teeth dove into the calm waters. She could see the dorsal fin of the creature swimming away, but could not see Mike at all. ‘It’s a Mako,’ she thought. ‘Let it have the fish, but give me Mike back. I won’t let you take my happiness.’ She swam directly to the shark which had turned and was swimming back. It passed by her dragging Mike under the water. She grabbed his leg and pulled herself up to the leader where she cut it, releasing him from the mahi-mahi. The shark was now swimming further out so the distance back to the boat was considerable. She kept his head above water as she swam back, but he was not breathing. She got him up to the ladder on the side of the hull and slapped him. Baby… wake up! Come on now… don’t do this to me, I’m not going to carry this too! Wake up!

I remember being hit in the face and then coughing up a bunch of water. She was looking at me in the water and then urged me to climb the ladder. I became more lucid with each rung slowly attempted and finally on board I turned to give her a hand. She smiled the prettiest smile I have ever seen. It was like… you are my happiness. Finally… wet, but happy! Such a facial treat was short lived though as the Mako broke the water again and surfaced, grabbing her and pulling her under. I don’t know if I yelled or not. They had completely disappeared. I ran into the bedroom and got the Glock and ran to the edge of the hull. The shark was coming back dragging her with it. It passed by the boat as if showing off its prize catch. Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blood gushed from the fish’s body and she was released. I threw the Glock down and jumped into the water, swam out and took hold of her. She was still alive and conscious. After considerable effort both of us were lying in bloody water on the deck. She was crying in pain and agony. The shark had taken her left leg just above the knee. I ran into the galley and got cord and pulled the morphine syringe from the refrigerator. I ran out and quickly jabbed it into her right leg. I began to wrap tightly the severed