August 2012
She was quite the most beautiful thing he had ever seen – slim, sophisticated and sexy. He could hardly believe that he was taking her out for the very first time today and he felt like a million dollars . . . which, coincidentally, was only one measly greenback dollar more than he had actually paid for her.
The Faerie Queene languished elegantly off the pontoon, her fifty three foot hull gleaming iceberg white against the deep blue of Miami harbour. His Ray-Bans were shielding his sensitive eyes from the searing power of the Florida sun, but he was even prepared to relinquish their expensive protection to take a more intimate view of her beneath the shade of his hands; she was utterly gorgeous!
He could easily see now why mariners used feminine language to describe their special boats; The Faerie Queene was a true lady, especially when compared to the testosterone fuelled Gin Palaces which disgraced the rest of the marina: huge bulbous things with aggressively high pointed bows, which contrasted their low flat sterns, engulfed in soft creamy leather where the obscenely rich lounged supping their gin and tonic while some white suited, white capped Eric in soft blue deck shoes piloted their craft for them. No, The Faerie Queene was strictly a hands-on kind of lady and he could hardly contain his excitement as the moment approached when he could get up close and personal with her.
Poor Katherine was feeling seriously upstaged by his obsessive adoration for this rich boy's toy; ok, she had to admit it was stylish, but it was an inanimate object, while at the same time, living, breathing perfection was being totally ignored at his side! When the sales team took Nigel on a technical tour of the controls, the engines and the state of the art computer guidance system, she made her way down to the stateroom cabin to make herself more comfortable. She peeled off the white sailor suit she had chosen especially for the occasion, but which he had scarcely spared a second glance, and tossed it carelessly onto the oval queen-sized bed while she took a shower. Ok, she thought, so this is quite impressive, but I will get his attention, or else die in the attempt – she slipped on the white bikini bottoms and held up the miniscule top . . . if these had been sails, she grinned, then this floating bathtub wouldn't be goin' nowhere!
Her emergence through the cabin door definitely had the desired effect – at least, it had an effect on the Nautica Marine staff – they had all been hunched over the pulsating green screens, studying the 4G radar displays, and she caught the flash of intense irritation cross Nigel's eyes as the other two men completely lost interest in the electronics to hungrily follow her undulating progress across the deck to her chosen spot on the canopy, directly in front of the cockpit, where not even Nigel could fail but notice her while he sat steering the bloody thing!
As soon as the sales team had been hurriedly escorted from the boat, the motor purred into life and all eyes on shore were jealously watching Nigel as he eased the beautiful craft out into the channel. Open water was still a mile or more ahead and their stately progress took them beneath the shadow of the massive cruise ships at their docks. As the immense bulk of the ships loomed above them, Nigel stared up in disgust at hundreds of faces peering back down at him from the rails ten decks above, 'Bloody peasants!' he muttered, 'Hundreds of Hooray Henrys all crammed together in their white dicky bows, sipping their 'Sail away Cocktails'. . . wouldn't even know they were on the water unless they jumped over the side . . . not like us, my beauty!' and he patted the wheel affectionately. 'We feel every precious wave!'
Katherine moaned and rolled over.
'And then . . .' he was in full flow now, '. . . and then they all stop at the same islands, pour off for their sanitised conducted shore adventure, then they all pour back on again a couple of hours later in time for their afternoon tea . . .'
Katherine mulled over that prospect, which, to her, sounded like pure heaven, but she wisely decided to keep her thoughts to herself.
Nigel flicked the switches and watched spellbound as the mainsail slowly powered up the mast, impatiently snatching at the wind, billowing out to block the sun as they raced out of the harbour . . . where they truly did feel every precious wave, but the sleek craft had no desire to be held back and she slipped through the peaks and troughs with a sinuous, undulating grace.
Nigel clipped the chart in place and checked the compass; the small uninhabited island encircled by white sand that he had chosen for their first stop was a good few hours away, so he lit a King Edward, poured a few fingers of Glenmorangie and settled back in the high backed pilot's chair to savour the moment.
After four hours, during which Katherine had dozed, posed and exposed with absolutely no success, she finally relented and made her way down into the galley to fix some lunch, but she had scarcely begun when the boat suddenly slowed and his call dragged her back again, 'Time for that later, sweetheart, I need you up here.' Her heart raced in anticipation as she threw herself bodily up the steep steps, but it quickened with rage when she saw him looking anxiously over the side rail. The mainsail was already furled and the boat was gently rocking in the swell. 'The island's just over there,' he gestured vaguely with his hand towards the bow, 'but the depth gauge is showing some scattered rocks just below the surface, and we need to navigate our way very carefully through them.' With his back to her he failed to register the look of complete disinterest on her face. 'What I need you to do is to steer while I direct you, but you must do exactly what I say, when I say it, or we are in deep trouble.'
Unenthusiastically Katherine took her place at the wheel while he jogged up to the prow and called for her to start the engines. They crept slowly forwards while she made minor adjustments to the wheel to match Nigel's hand gestures from the front. They had closed the distance to the island to a few hundred yards when suddenly a pod of dolphins breached directly off the starboard bow; Nigel excitedly flung out his arm, pointing, looking back excitedly to Katherine to make sure she had seen the wonderful creatures . . . but Katherine had not seen the wonderful creatures and she completely mistook his sudden gesture.
She spun the wheel hard to the right and gripped the throttle in case he wanted to cut the power. The gleaming white fibreglass struck the sharp grey rock with such force that Nigel was hurled screaming over the side, while Katherine was thrown from the pilot's chair onto the deck . . . but as her hand was torn from the throttle, so the throttle was wrenched open wide and the full throated roar of the engines almost drowned out the terrible ripping noise as the rock tore open the entire side of the Faerie Queen with the ease of a can opener. She sank in minutes, the state of the art radio equipment crackling terminally as the salt water flooded in.
The moment her warm body hit the cold water Katherine struck out for the island, floating with reassuring solidity on her horizon, completely ignoring Nigel, who was treading water while he stared in disbelief at the bubbles that were the last visible evidence of his beloved Faerie Queene. But when the pod of dolphins returned to circle him, gibbering excitedly, he hurled them a few choice expletives and struck out after her.
Together they lay, panting and exhausted on the hot sand. Katherine was the first to recover; raising herself up on one elbow she turned on him, 'Well, Admiral . . . and what do you suggest we do now, eh?' she dragged the mass of wet sandy hair free from her face, 'Miles away from anywhere, the radio is under there somewhere together with all our food . . .' For the first time in their short acquaintance, Nigel was totally speechless.
As they lay together on the pristine beach which should have been the idyllic location for the first day of their adventure, they argued, they shouted, they wept, then they reached their first joint decision – to explore the small island to see what it contained that was in any way edible. For an hour they plodded miserably through the surf to protect their delicate feet from the burning hot sand, with nothing but the soughing of the wind and the occasional mournful cry of a seabird as company, until, suddenly a long sustained blast from a ship's funnel ripped open the silence. After sharing a disbelieving glance, they ran full pelt around the end of the island and there, anchored a few hundred yards off the far side was the biggest cruise ship they had ever seen. At the small jetty, the very last of the lobster red tourists were filing wearily onto the ship's tender – Nigel and Katherine ran frantically along the beach, screaming for their lives.