Finders Keepers

By Guy Goes

Sailing the oceans is becoming increasingly more hazardous. Pirates get away with murder and blackmail with increasing success. The villains made a mistake with the skipper of yacht Adios and his resourceful crew. The couple refused to submit and fought back tooth and nail. The battle to survive raged on even when they thought they were safely back home. New people entered the fray, seeking revenge and claim the spoils they wanted. Respect for life and compassion are alien notions to pirates. They are driven by greed and determination to enrich themselves at the cost of others. The main characters are sexy, intelligent persons finding their own elegant way to deal with the trauma inflicted on them by their ruthless adversaries. They never gave up, but there was a price to pay, as always.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Africa
• Release date: Apr 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781482806618

Guy Goes

Guy Goes is a retired businessman and lives in South Africa. He is a keen sailor and an ex commodore of the Zululand Yacht Club. He mountain bikes and has done two ocean crossings on sailing yachts. Guy paints and writes, and he is married and is concerned about nature and pollution.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Mike Marshall learned to sail from an early age. His father, John, owned a small steel yacht and taught him the art. His mother, Millie, was not keen on being on the ocean in a small boat, but became a sailor by default because she found herself in a situation where she could either come along or sit at home.

Mike fondly remembered the fun they had on the Langebaan lagoon and the trips they made from Cape Town around to Houtbay. When he got older, the family ventured further from their home port, sailing up the coast via Port Elizabeth and Durban to Mozambique.

Being a schoolteacher, his father used the long summer holidays to satisfy his insatiable wanderlust. He taught Mike to navigate, and by the age of fourteen he was able to stand his watches. Mike would feel huge pride entering the distances he covered in the logbook and compare them with those of his dad.

Later, as an engineering student at UCT he crewed on racing yachts doing the Sunday and Wednesday club races, deciding that one day he would have his own yacht and go exploring.

When Mike was twenty, his dad was offered a headmaster position at a prestigious boarding school in Johannesburg. His parents sold their house and moved into the principal’s dwelling on the school grounds. They helped Mike to find a room with a relative close to the university. He lived there for several years until he qualified with a degree in mechanical engineering. Mike met Patricia at a party in his final year. She was a good-looking, dark-haired girl who could dance like mad, drank beer and studied for a B com. They hit it off immediately and began dating, getting married after his twenty-fifth birthday a year after he qualified from the university.

Mike and his new father-in-law Peter became good friends; both being engineers and having a lot in common. Mike started working for Peter at his engineering firm in Cape Town.

Patricia and he were a happy, loving couple, he thought. Until one morning fourteen months after their wedding while sitting at the breakfast table, Pat told him that she wanted a divorce. She had realised that she did not love him, and their marriage was a mistake because he was simply not interested enough in her.

Mike was speechless. He had been unaware of his wife’s apparently ongoing unhappiness. Pat wanted to travel, and found the right candidate to accompany her in her quest to widen her horizons. She met Anthony at the tennis club, he truly loved her and she felt that he was more deserving of her. ‘He’s not just interested in work, like you. Anthony wants to take me to different places all over the world and have fun.’

Mike listened to his wife in silence, unbelieving and felt hurt by what she said. Patricia never mentioned that she was unhappy. They did have a few arguments, but nothing serious, and their lovemaking always felt good. He often told Patricia that he loved her, they went regularly out to dinner and interacting with friends. Maybe he was just stupid, hopeless with women and clueless how to really love and appreciate them. Mike thought that he had been treated badly by Patricia, and didn’t deserve the unfair things she said about him.

Patricia’s dad Peter was beside himself when he heard about the course of action his daughter intended to pursue. He tried to change her mind, but was ignored. He shouted at his daughter and told her she was spoilt rotten, but it made no difference. Pat was like her mother: when her mind was made up, nothing but a cataclysmic situation would change it.

Mike tried for several months to persuade Pat differently, suggesting counselling, but eventually, when he saw there was absolutely no hope to save his marriage, he gave up, and they divorced. He had not seen or heard from her over the five months since he had become single again. Mike was convinced that he had loved Patricia, and found it hard not to think of her with sadness. He and his father-in-law kept working together until he received a call that was to change his life.

Attorneys Grant and Deville contacted him with the news that he was the sole inheritor of his Uncle Andy Marshall’s estate. Mike had always liked his Uncle Andy, despite the fact that his mother spoke of him in a hushed voice, as if, just by her talking about him, Mike would in some unexplained way adopt the same lewd lifestyle Uncle Andy was supposed to lead. The two men met regularly while Mike was a student. Uncle Andy would come to town once a month and they would go out for drinks and a meal.

Andy would do business in Cape Town selling the wines, olive oil and pecan nuts produced on his farm. His Uncle was gloriously opinionated man, very bright, and ‘colour blind’. He kept one or sometimes two young coloured women in his farmhouse as ‘friends’, and when they left on their own accord or otherwise, they would invariably receive a reward.

The local white community did have serious reservations about this situation and valiantly tried to find a suitable white woman for Andy. To his credit, Uncle Andy did enthusiastically interact with these selected women. Some, apparently, not at all too shabby, but in the end, they suffered the same fate as their darker-hued sisters, receiving a golden handshake on their way out.

Mike and Uncle Andy would go on hunting and fishing trips together, and took part in unrestrained boozing sessions. After he began working, Mike would make a point of visiting his Uncle regularly.

Patricia hated Andy. She thought of him as an uncouth moron with hopeless manners and far too much money, and was always getting into arguments with him. Andy once called Pat an uptight bitch, spoiled rotten and so much up herself that she thought the fluffy area between her legs was for peeing only. Patricia expected Mike to take her side in the argument, which he refused to do, telling her that she was a big girl and did not need his help.

They had angry words about it in the car on the way home. Mike told Pat that he had no idea why she and Andy were always fighting, and that he was really not interested in getting involved. Pat told him that he did not love her, because if he did, he would have supported her. With the utmost self-control, he shut up, not wanting to make an already spoilt day worse. They did not speak for several days, and Mike never took Patricia to visit Uncle Andy again.

Mike knew his Uncle was ill for the past two years, but Andy refused to discuss it, ignoring all warnings and insisting on drinking his favourite whiskey despite the chemotherapy he was on. During the final two weeks of his life, Mike sat next to Andy’s bed, feeding him water and assisted the permanent nurse he organised. He felt deeply sad to see this funny, private, hugely capable man reduced to a skeleton, shivering in pain.

Andy never complained, and in his more lucid moments would smile, telling Mike what a fantastic life he had lived and all the lovely women he met. His death came as a huge relief to everyone, but mostly to Andy

The Attorneys made an appointment to see Mike in Cape Town; they explained that his Uncle had contacted them some years earlier, around the time he was diagnosed with cancer. They assisted him in making a comprehensive will, leaving smaller bits and pieces to different women, and the main bulk of his estate to him.

‘You are now the owner of several farms, houses, shares, and some cash after duties and costs,’ they told him. Mike could not believe his ears. He knew that Uncle Andy was wealthy, but the extent of his wealth became really apparent when the attorney took him on a tour of the farm and factories. Over a few days he was introduced to the managers and administrators of the enterprises he now owned.

Mike apprehensively overnighted in Andy’s house after the tour, feeling a little like an intruder, but with the help of his Uncle’s long-serving accountant Herbert, went through the books. It took him a while to understand the scope of the businesses. He drew up an organogram, adding the names of those employees which had signing powers. Mike thanked his luck that he had a good head for figures and that maths had been a favourite subject. They matched incomes and expenditures to the businesses, an exercise which, the accountant admitted, had not been done properly since Andy became ill.

To their surprise, the perception that the wine farm was the main money-spinner turned out to be incorrect. The wine was in fact not making enough money to pay for itself, and certainly not when considering the vast investments made in buildings and infrastructure.

The olive farm, on the other hand, made handsome profits and the pecan nuts showed positives. The elderly accountant had his own elegant way of telling Mike where he thought things needed his attention, pointing at certain incomes and expenditures, wordlessly circling them with his pencil and writing the names of the people in charge behind them. Mike would reference this information on his growing organogram.

On the frequent follow-up tours, he noticed signs of neglect, with grass growing under fences, eroded roads and buildings in need of paint. He saw the results of his Uncle’s illness; being too sick to run his farms, leaving it to his managers whom simply did not have his critical eye and determination to keep up standards. He decided to resign from his job and start planning to get the vast enterprise back into its previous splendour.

Mike sat down with Peter, telling him what happened, and handed in his notice. His ex-father-in-law was devastated, saying that he saw Mike as his son and that the business would be his when he retired. Mike thanked Peter for his kindness, giving him the telephone number of a fellow engineer who might be interested in taking his place. They parted shaking hands. Mike never spoke to Patricia’s mom, who blamed him for the divorce from her lovely baby girl.

‘You men only want sex and will never understand the needs of women. Work is always much more important. I wanted to have a grandchild, but who cares what I want?’ She told him when the divorce talks started.

Mike felt strangely detached as he walked out of his father-in-law’s building. He had enjoyed working with him; Peter was a decent, capable man.

Chapter 2

With the assistance of Herbert Mann, the accountant, Mike began to formulate a recovery plan. He sold all the shares in unrelated businesses and substantial amounts of the bottled wines stored in the cellars. He used the cash to modernise the wine farm, making it look pristine, replacing outdated equipment, and put himself in a position to have the final say on who would be employed.

Mike sold the wine farm when he received an unsolicited cash offer from a German company wanting to change the place into an exclusive gastronomic tourist destination. The 4 million dollars he received was paid half in South Africa and the other half went into a Swiss bank. He used the cash injection to pay off debts and consolidate the olive and pecan nut farms, buying 500ha of adjoining land initiating a huge planting spree, aiming to become one of the largest olive and pecan nut producers in the country.

He began using Andy’s large study after a while, drinking the dark coffee his housekeeper Sally served. Mike liked the house; it had solid wooden furniture and cool spacious rooms overlooking the valley. A year raced past and he felt tired from the unabated work, seven days a week, learning to cope with the different challenges that kept cropping up.

Mike called his friend James Carter, a fellow graduate working in Cape Town, who inviting him to have a few drinks over the weekend and go to a rock concert. James would organise two girls to come along. Mike spotted him sitting in a corner of the restaurant where they arrange to meet, accompanied by two nice-looking women. James did the introductions: Kelly and Jenny. Mike had met Jenny before; she was James’s sister, and studied marine biology.

Jenny must be about twenty-four by now, he thought, and would, he imagined, have finished her studies. She looked stunning, her luxurious red curly hair falling on to her shoulders. Jenny had blue eyes, had a clean, peachy complexion and a tall, shapely body. He could remember her lovely sensuous mouth, which he gave a hello kiss. The other woman was the same age, small – perhaps just 155 cm – but was extraordinary pretty, wearing high heels and a sharpish black dress bringing out the best of her stunning tiny body. Mike had to stop himself from staring at her, because Kelly was one of those rarely seen head-turners. They shook hands with hers feeling cool and tiny in his. They sat down and ordered

Kelly was an architect and had been friends with Jenny since primary school. Jenny qualified as a marine biologist and completed her doctorate. Bright and beautiful girls, he thought, wondering how much he had missed in the last few years. The meal was excellent, though Mike was sure that anything would have tasted good with this group – once the jokes started the laughter did not stop.

They went to the venue in James’s car. The music was great, with people ending up dancing in the aisles and the girls showing that they could also really move. Mike looked his eyes out, with James joking that ‘country bumpkins like him have to learn about the way things are done in town.’ Mike fully agreed, telling he was a keen learner.

When the concert was finished, they made their way through the crowd to their car. Jenny asked Mike where he was staying, and he told her that he still owned his old flat, inviting them in for a nightcap. He felt self-conscious about them dropping him off at his Porsche, reluctant to show that he was driving such an expensive vehicle. James pulled up next to the Porsche, with both girls offering to accompany Mike to his flat. Kelly was out first and stepped into the passenger seat.

On the way he saw her smiling, and she told him she had always dreamed of driving a Porsche one day. Mike immediately stopped the vehicle, got out and wordlessly pointed to the driver’s seat. The exquisite woman walked around and sat behind the wheel without hesitation. Mike helped her adjust the seat, and moments later Kelly was driving. He looked at her from the side; she was concentrating he thought of her as a small, glittering diamond. As he directed her into the building’s parking, her face said it all; her eyes large and sparkling Kelly thanked Mike for letting him drive his beautiful car.

They sat down, and Mike fixed them drinks. Jenny opened the sliding door to the balcony and looked out over the lights of Cape Town. Mike handed her a glass of wine and asked if she liked the view.

‘I love this flat,’ she said. ‘It’s huge compared to mine. I live in a one-bedroom dump getting used to living small through my varsity years. My little flat has one big advantage, I can walk to the university it saves lots of time. The owner Judge Boucher has been good to me. He’s an older man, a widower, and made me coffee when I studied late. Collin Boucher treats me like a daughter and asks me to accompany him to the movies once a month. He treats me to a meal afterwards and we talk about art and music. He’s an ex-judge and very bright.’

Mike said she was lucky to find such a place and landlord. They joined the others inside, hearing Kelly telling James how awesome driving the Porsche was. Mike could see that everyone was getting tired and made coffee. They soon parted, with James dropping the women off, saying they must get together again soon.

He washed up and packed the glasses away. As he shook the cushions on the settee back into shape he noticed a woman’s purse. He opened it to find out who owned it and saw from the cards that it was Kelly’s. He searched through the side pockets, trying to find a contact number, seeing she bought food at Woolworth and purchased new clothes a few days earlier.

Behind the cards, he saw a small photograph of Kelly and a man, both smiling, younger, with the sea in the background; they looked happy. He spotted a mobile number on an invoice and dialled it, connecting after a few rings. He told Kelly he had found her wallet and would return it in the morning. She said she needed it early and would come to fetch it. He offered to bring it to her, which she refused, asking him to please wait, she would be over in fifteen minutes.

He took a quick shower and dressed in shorts and T-shirt. It was getting late. He opened the door, letting Kelly in when she pressed the bell. She had changed clothes, wearing a tight top, loose pants and heeled sandals. She looked like a miniature model, but with real curves and valleys. She had obviously showered and smelled delicious. Mike told her he had to go through the wallet to find her number.

Smiling Kelly asked if he’d found any money apart from the few bucks in the front. He laughed and shook his head, but said he saw the picture of her with a young man taken some years ago. ‘It looked like you were going to your matric dance,’ Kelly took the picture out of her wallet and told him that the guy in the picture was her ex-boyfriend of many years. ‘We were inseparable, and made so many plans for the future. The picture, as you correctly guessed, was taken on the day of our matric dance. Harry went to study medicine at Wits University and did exceptionally well. He was offered a research opportunity in the US. I kept on writing, sending photos, and calling him, until a woman politely told me, in a soft American accent, that Harry was her fiancée and that they were getting married before the year end. I did not believe her, calling her a liar, and demanded to speak to Harry. He came on the phone, confirming what the woman told me and said he was sorry. I was devastated and am at a loss why I’m telling you my sob story. It was a long time ago.’

Mike put his arm loosely around Kelly, telling her that almost everyone he knew carried an emotional burden of something. ‘I went through a divorce before I fully realised I was married – it went wrong that quick. Patricia and I never discussed any problems. Perhaps we could have managed them if we had. I heard from her dad that she ditched Anthony, whom she left me for, somewhere in India and now lives with an Argentinian in Buenos Aires.’

They looked at each other and laughed. Mike offered to make a cup of tea, but she shook her head, saying that she had drank enough fluid for one night. Mike took her hand and kissed her small fingers. Kelly moved instantly closer and kissed him on his lips. ‘She smells lovely,’ he thought, and pulled her against him. They kissed for a while, with Mike lifting Kelly up and daringly carrying her into the bedroom. They began kissing again, and Mike slowly undressed her.

Kelly looked elfin, her proportions achingly beautiful. She did have an impatience about her, wanting him. Mike never was a quick worker in the sex department, and liked to caress and kiss her all over that perfect body. Kelly was not keen on foreplay, straddling his body, and managed him in her with surprising ease. They made love with passionate enthusiasm, surprised by the lust they felt and Kelly reaching a quick climax. Mike felt out of his depth with this intense display of passion. He had never experienced anything like it. Sure, he and Pat had their moments when they first met, but this was something complete and overwhelmingly different.

Kelly rolled next to him. He stroked her back and kissed her shoulder. They lay like this for a while, not speaking, savouring what had happened. Kelly went into the bathroom to get a cloth and began wiping her body, he could not believe how delicately beautiful this small woman was. Her curves, the perfectly shaped breasts and legs. Everything about her looked as if a gifted artist had just presented his final masterpiece. He kissed her, loving her smell and the heat coming off her. He felt himself going hard wanting her again. He asked if she was OK. Kelly smiled at him as he lifted her in a crouching position, entering her from the back. They made love again, almost furious in their passion, going into emotions he had never experienced before and fell into an exhausted sleep afterwards.

The sun was up when he woke. He looked at Kelly lying next to him. She was still asleep, and he got up to make coffee, handing her a cup just as she was waking up. Kelly asked him to hold it for a moment while she went to the toilet, walking around naked without any qualms and jumping back into bed, sipping her coffee. Mike told her that he could look at her the whole day and never get bored.

Kelly gave him a radiant smile, telling him that he was a nice looking guy and that she liked him from the moment she saw him. ‘I left my purse hoping you would find it and call me. This is the first time I have done something daring like this, and I apologise for doing it,’

He moved closer, stroking her upper leg. She looked at him with her dark eyes, smilingly asking if he had amorous intentions, teasing him. They took more time with each other, kissing and caressing. Kelly could have several little highs, building up to one huge explosion. The heightened arousal generated unbelievable power in her. Mike’s 94 kg body was moved around with remarkable ease.

He soon understood that there was nothing tiny about this incredible woman apart from her stature. Kelly was a passionate, bright and powerful person. They showered and had breakfast, talking about themselves, their likes, their hobbies and work. Kelly apologised; she had wanted to call him and get to know him in a more traditional way.

‘I like the kind generous way you have about you, and appreciated it that you let me drive your Porsche. You refused to show any tension or apprehension with me at the wheel. I found that a turn on,’ she said with a bright smile.

Kelly gathered her things and got dressed, telling Mike she had to go to work and would call him. ‘Maybe we could go out again,’ she said as they kissed goodbye. Mike watched her walk to her car; she took large steps for her size.

Chapter 3

The next few days Mike was busy, he called Kelly, leaving messages which went unanswered. He went for a drink with James near the beach, watching nimble women running along the promenade. James asked him if he had enjoyed their evening out, and what he thought of Kelly. Mike was instantly alert, keeping his comments to, ‘Very attractive, funny, and dresses nicely.’

James told him that he’d asked Kelly out for a few dates. ‘She’s Jenny’s close friend, and a talented architect. I really like her. I knew her boyfriend Harry quite well. We played rugby for the same club. How stupid can a man be, to leave a woman as gorgeous as that?’

Jenny told James that Harry was recruited by the company he did research for, and married the owner’s daughter, who was a few years older. Kelly was heartbroken. She refused to go out for a long time, and still insists on only going out in groups.

‘Jenny says you remind her of Harry. You are a similar size and have the same colour hair, and apparently even speak alike. She thought you look more athletic, but for the rest Harry and you could have been brothers.’

Mike listened to what James told him, feeling increasingly uncomfortable the more he heard, beginning to suspect that stunning Kelly, that passionate, lovely woman, was far from over her lover, and had probably used him as a very willing substitute. He changed the subject, they finished their drink and left the place as it started to get crowded.

Driving back to his flat, Mike couldn’t shake off the feeling of disappointment. Kelly Miller had made a huge impression on him. In his mind he could recall every detail about her. Mike knew he had hidden away since his divorce, gone into a type of hibernation. The past year had been spent on unrelenting work. He had tried not to let the sadness about the divorce influence his life too much, and felt he had mostly succeeded. The outrageous sexy night with Kelly had changed that situation, making him want to be important to a special woman he could love.

Something began to fall into place however. A woman who wants to forget about her ex-lover wouldn’t carry his picture in her wallet, he thought. Their initial hurried lovemaking and her reluctance to engage in foreplay maybe stemmed from the frustration this stunning woman felt. Mike tried to imagine how Kelly must be feeling, now, a few days after she had let herself go, doing something that was out of character. He thought he understood why she had not replied to his texts inviting her to meet. He decided to restrict his messages to reminders like ‘I thought of you and it felt good’ He packed his gear and drove home.

The events in Cape Town had changed him however. Over the next weeks, despite several messages to Kelly, he received no replies. It upset him more than he wanted to admit. He tried to shake it off, deciding that hiding on the farm was nonsense, and went back to Cape Town to look at yachts, a favourite pastime of his.

Mike drove to the Yacht Club, where he met a saleswoman called Frankie, who showed him the yachts she had on her books. He enjoyed talking to Frankie; she was knowledgeable, told funny stories, and knew everything about the yachts, and their owners. There were only two yachts Mike would possibly consider buying, both fast, modern racer cruisers. Unfortunately, they needed big crews and were not large enough for what he had in mind. He told Frankie he would think about it, buying her a beer, which they drank on the club’s veranda.

Frankie had another appointment, leaving the moment she finished her drink. Mike strolled past the yachts at the back of the club. Some boats looked abandoned, neglected by their owners, collecting dirt and used as a perch for cormorants. Further away he could see some activity: a crane truck was stepping a mast on a large modern yacht. Mike walked over, always interested in things mechanical. The mast the riggers were handling was huge, three spreaders raked back, lovingly assembled with the new internal halyards neatly packed and tied alongside. The mast had rod rigging which, though well-known, is not as common as the heavier stainless cable options.

Mike made himself helpful, assisting the riggers with steadying the mast and stepping it. Thankful for his assistance, they allowed him inside the yacht to have a look. Mike saw immediately that the boat was something special. It had twin wheels, a hydraulic lift keel, and was professionally constructed out of aluminium. The more he explored, the more he liked the vessel, which appeared to have benefitted from the productive input of a knowledgeable owner and a gifted marine architect. With his engineer’s eye, he could see that many vital parts such as the steering quadrant and the brackets for the engine and generator mountings were all laser cut to fine tolerances. The yacht was unfinished, with the navigation instruments, radios and radar missing. He asked the riggers if they knew the owner. They shrugged, but gave him the card of an auctioneering company.

Climbing back onto the quay, Mike looked along the yacht’s lines, his heart beating faster. She was beautiful, low in the water with a wide flat stern, and open low transom with more than enough space to recover divers. The twin wheels were lovingly crafted in carbon fibre, hanging on expensive imported binnacles. He looked at the anchor well, taking note of the near bulletproof compartment that was going to accommodate the windlass. He spend an hour going over the yacht with care, concluding in the end that this was an extraordinary boat suited to shorthanded sailing. It was built by someone who loved and understood ocean sailing. They had planned enough handholds at strategic points and built helmsmen-angled footrests to prevent slipping or falling in rough weather. When he paced her out, the yacht’s overall length was in excess of 65 feet. Mike realised that he had found the yacht he had always dreamed of. It would take a large amount of work and money to finish her, needing a full set of instruments and other equipment such as a fridge, freezer, pumps, and all the sails.

He said goodbye to the riggers and called the auctioneer from his car. He spoke to a breezy individual called Danny, who told Mike that the boat was a repossession by the bank after the owner’s laser-cutting works lost its biggest customer and gone into liquidation. The auction would be held in three weeks. Although the yacht was unfinished, it had to be sold because the bank did not want to get involved in storage or other charges.

‘We estimate that she will fetch a couple of million Rand despite not being complete,’ Danny said. Mike was stunned by the amount the auctioneer mentioned, concluding that the man had to be an optimist.

Chapter 4

During the few weeks before the auction, Mike had trouble sleeping. He dreamed about the boat, checking prices for the missing equipment, and went to look at her frequently. He stopped sending Kelly messages as they went unanswered, accepting that she had moved on and was obviously not interested in him.

When auction day arrived, he felt nervous but determined. He arranged to have a large amount of credit guarantees posted to the auctioneer, and received his buyer’s card. He was somewhat disappointed by the amount of people coming to look. He counted thirty heads, dismissing at least half as lookers; maybe ten real buyers. The bidding started slowly and took forever to reach 500k Rand. Mike had not done any bidding, but watched carefully to see who was driving the offers. He spotted one unusual person, marking him as the plant the auctioneer used to push the bidding along. Mark moved behind the man and asked him if he knew his halyard from his sheet. The man ignored him, but Mike went to his side and took several pictures of him with his cell phone, unsettling him.

The bidding laboured on, with Danny the auctioneer having taken note of what Mike had done to their man. Finally a prosperous-looking older man bid 850k. At the final call, Mike offered 875k. There was a hushed silence. The older man upped his offer to 900k, with Mike going to R 950k in a big jump. The call went to the final when the older man upped it again to 960k, and Mike went to 975k. It was the final bid – the yacht was his. The spectators clapped hands, and a rough-looking older man came to shake his hand, telling him that he had bought a superb boat. He told Mike that he had worked on her, doing the welding and much of the fitting. The other final bidder congratulated Mike and asked if he had enough money to pay for his purchases.

Mike smiled and told him he was OK. The transactions were quickly completed. Mike was elated, and would have bid considerably more for the boat.

When he returned a few hours later, the worker he spoke with earlier was sitting on a bollard close to the yacht, obviously waiting for him. He stood up when he recognised Mike and offered to help him finish the vessel, saying that he was good with electrics and installations.

The man gave his name as Billy Clement, and appeared down on his luck. ‘When the company building this vessel went in liquidation, I lost my job. I have built boats all my life.’

Mike asked Billy to tell him about the yacht’s engine, and stopped him when he swiftly rattled of all the usual settings and proceeded into details. Mike hired him on the spot, giving him some money to smarten himself up. He offered Billy the use of a cabin and agreed on his income.

Over the next six months, Mike discovered to his delight that Billy was an excellent craftsman, and they became friends. He could leave Billy to work unsupervised, and would invariably find that he would do better than expected. The yacht, now called Adios, was finished around Christmas. The new Spectra sails and spray dodger were some of the last items they installed. Mike and Billy tested and retested all the systems, ticking them off as they went along. Billy installed a manual back-up for the hydraulic keel lifting mechanism, and Mike designed and built an emergency tiller mechanism. Billy did not like things on deck, and manufactured specific spaces for the anchors and cut a nacelle for the life raft in the stern.

They invited Frankie, James, Jenny and a racing crew from a visiting yacht to join them for the sea trials and have drinks afterwards. The yacht flew, her design living fully up to their expectations. Off the wind, she began surfing in 15 knots, and when the wind piped up to 25 knots they occasionally surfed at 22 knots down the waves. She handled like a dream; with her broad beam and twin rudders, tracking unerringly, feeling light and responsive. When they tried the Geniker from the bowsprit, the boat took off like a racehorse given free reign.

Mike simply couldn’t stop smiling. He loved Adios as the yacht was now called – she was an awesome boat, exactly as he had hoped. He called his dad and told him about it, inviting his parents to join him during their next holiday. Mike wanted to organise an official launching party, hiring a walk on-mooring in front of the Yacht Club. He invited Jenny and James and various business associates, hoping that Kelly would also join them. But when he asked Jenny to invite her, she gave him a look. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘You don’t know. Kelly left soon after we went to the rock festival to take up a project in Portugal for a year. She should be back in the next two weeks. We must get together and have fun.’

Mike smiled. He was sure Kelly had received his messages and chosen to ignore them. He was over her, but regretted not seeing her.

The Yacht Club is used to some raucous partying, but spoke highly of this one afterwards. The Commodore wanting to give Mike his job, and various members spontaneously joined in, dancing on the jetty. Jenny was a tireless party girl, looking gorgeous in her club shirt and tight shorts. She danced the whole night.

It was well after two when the last guests left and the clearing up began. Mike offered to call a taxi to take Jenny home; alternatively, she could sleep on the boat. She chose the latter.

‘I never slept on a boat before.’

Mike grinned at her. ‘You make it sound as if you have slept everywhere. Have you done it on a train and a plane?’

‘Done what?’ she asked. ‘I thought we were talking about sleeping, like in snooze, out for the count, dreamland, the snoring type,’ she said in a naughty voice.

Mike started laughing. ‘That’s what I was talking about as well.’ Jenny blushed; he gave her a knowing smile, looking along the side of his nose, teasing her. Jenny jumped up and wrestled him, laughing, and they ended up rolling on the polished cabin floor, kissing. Jenny had a gorgeous mouth, which tasted great despite the late hour. They fell asleep fully dressed on the huge aft cabin bed.

Mike woke up first, needing the loo. He went for a shower in the Yacht Club and changed into clean clothes. He looked in on Jenny, who was still sleeping when he returned and made coffee. He sat in the cockpit drinking the steaming cup when he heard a groan down below; Jenny had woken up and regretted it by the sounds of it. He saw her stumbling up the companionway steps, casting a look of disgust at his groomed, clean appearance.

‘What does a girl have to do here to earn a cup of bloody coffee? I slept with the skipper, cleaned and washed up into the early hours and played the enchanted host right through the night,’ she said, looking aggrieved.

Mike got up swiftly, kissed her firmly and indicated wordlessly for her to sit down. He went downstairs and made her coffee, bringing the rusks. Jenny pulled up her legs and wriggled into the cushions drinking her brew. They did not talk until the second cup, when Mike asked, smiling, whether ‘the good doctor’ had recovered a little ‘after her wild orgasmic night of unlimited booze and fierce interaction with the male gender.’

‘You don’t need to rub it in, you lecherous seducer,’ she said, laughing. ‘There I was trying to do my best to earn my place on this handsome vessel to be taken advantage of, as I faded from backbreaking work.’

Mike kept his face straight. ‘I try to make light of this matter,’ he said, looking serious. ‘Reputations are at stake here. After all, if the rumour gets out that I, as the esteemed skipper of Adios, took a wholesome red-headed stunner to my cabin and fell asleep with her fully dressed in my arms, I will have to lie to the good men around this place and claim complete sexual abandonment by my partner for the night, bragging that intensely wild things went on. I do not wish to impair my future chances with the opposite sex and be called indifferent.’

‘You’re concerned about your future prospects,’ Jenny sneered, ‘showing no concern for my good name and wellbeing. I am also going to lie a little, not as much as you, but never the less. What do you think if I tell the yachting crowd that we kissed and went into the aft cabin together and that my esteemed skipper fell asleep after I implored him repeatedly to do me some justice?’

Jenny thrust her shoulders out in a picture of total disgust. Mike nodded dejectedly, telling Jenny that her version could definitely destroy the harmony of the sailing fraternity, and that a way out of this dilemma should be found, offering the said red-headed person an apology and a sincere offer to make amends at a venue of her choice as soon as possible.

Jenny smiled, looking superior and said she would consider the offer and would contact him in due course. They laughed, packed up and left. Mike walked to his car and offered to take Jenny for breakfast, which she readily accepted. He took her to a trendy place in the centre of town, where they enjoyed a great breakfast and had fun together.

Jenny was a sparkling woman who smiled a lot and saw the positive side of things. She had been trying to find employment for a while and was offered a position with the government’s marine life inspectorate.

‘The job would pay just enough to buy a bottle of shampoo and half the rent for her flat,’ she said. Marine biologists had problems finding decent jobs, and she was looking to go overseas. Mike saw she was serious, and realised that this educated, lovely person was under financial strain and despite this, still managed to smile and look gorgeous. He offered her to come along on a sailing trip going north in a few months’ time if she had not found suitable employment by then.

Jenny looked at him. ‘Are you serious, Mike? I would love to go on an expedition like that regardless of whether I had a job or not.’

‘You would be an asset,’ he said smiling. ‘If you really want to do this, I arrange for you to go on a sailing course before we leave’.

Jenny stood up, stuck out her hand and said that she was in. ‘I will show you that by the time we go I’ll be able to sail and navigate.’

Mike loved Jenny’s positive attitude, and her enthusiasm worked on him. They decided to meet in a week to discuss dates and times, and for Mike to try to get Jenny booked on a sailing course. They kissed when they parted. Jenny was a dish and he watched her walk away, thinking that he wanted to get to know her much better.

He paid the bill and walked through the shopping mall towards the car park. Mike casually looked into the windows of the shops he went past. In one of the small restaurants he suddenly thought he saw Kelly, his heart began beating instantly faster. He stopped to look again, and to his surprise he did see Kelly, she was sitting with a woman that had to be her mother, they looked alike.

His initial reaction was to rush in and say hello, but he stopped himself, instead went into a flower shop buying a bunch of roses. He selected a card from the stand and wrote a note:

Dear Kelly,

I hope this will make you smile.

Perhaps meet me for coffee in a short while?

Regards,

Mike x

He wrote his cell number on the bottom, feeling a little nervous walking into the restaurant to meet the two women.

Kelly sat with her back to him, but her mom saw him coming towards them and smiled. He stopped near the table and made his excuse for interrupting, explaining he had seen Kelly and wanted to give her the flowers.

He handed the roses to Kelly, who went bright red, giving him a dazzling smile. She introduced him to her mom, who was called Pam, asking him if he wanted to join them. He sat down and told Kelly that he’d heard that she had been in Portugal. Kelly nodded, telling him that she had left shortly after they all went to the rock concert about a year ago. The company she worked for sent her over at a moment’s notice after the man contracted to do the job suddenly resigned.

‘I had hardly time to pack. In Lisbon, I lost my phone and every number stored inside. I only got back yesterday afternoon. I was going to get your number from Jenny and call you to have lunch,’ she told him with a smile.

Mike told her he had left messages and worried about her, trying to make contact. He told the women that they probably had a lot to talk about, not having seen each other for almost a year, and would love to have lunch with Kelly when she was ready. Kelly gave him her card and a kiss as he left.

Walking to his car, he could not believe how simple the explanation for the non-communication between them really was. It all fell perfectly into place. He berated himself for being so insecure. He could have called Jenny and found out what had happened to Kelly from her. Instead, he chose to creep back into his silly comfort zone and think of himself as a victim, ridiculous. He made up his mind never to be such a limp-wristed, indecisive jerk ever again.

He received an SMS from Kelly an hour later thanking him for the flowers and asking if it was ok for them to have lunch the next day at the same place.

The rest of the day, he felt like singing. He booked Jenny on a beginner’s course at the sailing academy and checked on Billy, who was supervising the installation of an inner forestay and a heavy-weather sail. At his flat later in the evening, he called Jenny, told her about her course, and gave her the