by Liz Alden
A few minutes later the gates were closed and the water started to drain. We dropped ten meters in the first step down from Gatun Lake to join the Pacific Ocean. The rest of the locks went smoothly, repeating the same motion twice more. In the second lock, a behemoth of a ship passed us on the other side of the lock, headed to Gatun Lake. The advisor told us they called the ship a RORO—Roll-On, Roll-Off—and it transported vehicles like cars. It made the cruise ship behind us look small.
We reached the last lock. It took even longer than the others. Eivind and I perched on the bow of Eik as the water drop down the gauge. When it stopped dropping, we waited.
And waited.
I swung my legs in circles underneath me, kicking my bare feet out and bumping Eivind’s with every circle. When I annoyed him enough, he pinched my bare thigh, and I squealed and squirmed away before slinking back to knock him again.
“Look!” Jonas called out.
Like curtains being pulled away, the last gate opened to reveal a massive bridge and the Pacific Ocean. The sailors on both boats whooped and hollered. One of the crew members on Starry Horizons blew a conch horn, low and triumphant.
We’d made it through the Panama Canal!
Seventeen
We motored out, passing under the Bridge of the Americas—the suspension bridge connecting North America to South America—and we floated in the river while Diego departed on a pilot boat. We stopped one more time for Robert to collect the fenders and dock lines, and then we pulled into Panama City near the delta and picked up a mooring ball at La Playita Marina.
The rest of the crew had a few things to do: lines were washed, coiled, and left on the lifelines to dry. Marcella walked around the deck with a bucket of water, scrubbing away dirt with a wet brush. Elayna cleaned all the dishes from the day. Jonas wrote his captain’s log and Eivind dropped the dinghy into the water, the small inflatable boat kept on the stern of Eik that would take us to shore now that we were away from a dock.
We each disappeared into our rooms or the heads, getting ready for a night out to celebrate. I dressed in the nicest clothes I had, a pair of jean shorts and a flowing camisole. I even put on mascara and a bit of lip stain Elayna had shared. It had been weeks since I’d put on makeup.
I stepped out of my cabin the same time Eivind stepped out of his.
He looked me up and down appreciatively, while I did the same with him. He was dressed in a polo shirt, shorts, and boat shoes. One might have called it Euro prep, but that was how cruisers dressed up—their normal outfit without the threadbare holes.
“Lila,” he said breathlessly, “you look beautiful.” A finger came up and traced my exposed collarbone. I loved how much Eivind touched me, but it had been turning me on ever since I’d moved aboard. And now, knowing we were finished with our trip through the canal and I could stay here or leave for a hostel whenever I wanted.
As if Eivind could read my thoughts, he stared at me intensely, and his eyes held the possibility of everything we could do tonight.
I almost kissed him. But he beat me to it, bringing his lips to my shoulder, where his finger had just been. The kiss was wet and soft, and he followed it with more, trailing up my neck. I gasped, gripping his shirt in my fists and pressing myself against him.
“I love your neck,” he murmured against my skin.
A weak laugh escaped my lips. “I can tell.”
Eivind inched us back against the wall, his hands sliding down my body to cup my butt.
“LILA! EIVIND! DO NOT GET DISTRACTED DOWN THERE!” Elayna called.
I blushed furiously, but there was no way anyone could have seen us from the cockpit.
Eivind pulled away. “Later?”
I grinned, pulled him in close to kiss his cheek, and whispered, “Later.”
He sighed and adjusted himself, gesturing for me to go first. As I climbed the stairs up to the cockpit, Elayna craned around me to shout again: “EIVIND! THE CHAMPAGNE!”
Eivind rummaged for a few minutes and brought the bottle of chilled champagne up to the cockpit, where five plastic wineglasses waited.
“Captain,” he said, and passed the bottle to Jonas.
Jonas removed the foil and untwisted the cage. Aiming the neck away from the cockpit, he pushed the cork and it came out with a loud pop, shooting overboard into the water. We all cheered and Jonas poured some bubbly into each glass.
Holding his glass up, he said, “Here is to the Pacific Ocean: her beauty is reputed to be the finest in the world. May her water and winds be sweet and kind. And here is to my crew: I could not have done it without you. Thank you for your help, and I’m glad to lead you onto our next adventure.”
We clinked glasses, the sound dulled, but the champagne tasted so good.
“Okay, mesdemoiselles et messieurs, we have big plans for the evening,” Elayna announced. “First stop, the rooftop!”
We downed our champagne and gathered at the side of Eik. Eivind pulled the line tied to the dinghy so that it was under the lifeline gate.
Jonas turned around and took a big step down to land in the dinghy. I watched Marcella and Elayna drop in; they were both wearing skirts, and they squatted down to sit on the edge of the deck, not minding their skirts riding up as their legs swung over the side. Then they slid off the edge to stand in the dinghy.
“A perk of the cruising life,” Elayna said. “Sometimes you have to flash the captain.”
Eivind offered me a hand. Thanks to my shorts, I didn’t flash anyone. I sat on the tube next to Marcella while Eivind jumped down, line in hand. I traced my finger over the words painted onto the little boat: Eikenøtt.
My eyebrows drew together. “Little Oak?”
Eivind grinned. “Acorn.”
We motored into the marina and to the dinghy dock, the inflatable riding low in the water with all of our weight. When we arrived, Eivind jumped out with the line, and I stood up and stepped onto the pontoon.
When we were all off, Eivind fixed the line to the cleat to secure the dinghy. Jonas pulled a small red cord off the outboard, silencing the engine. Attached to the cord was a small key, which he fitted to a lock and cable to prevent anyone from stealing the dinghy.
We walked through the marina to the road. La Playita Marina was located on a peninsula, a narrow strip of land connecting the marina to the rest of Panama City. Jonas and Eivind both pulled out their phones and requested Ubers.
Our Uber drivers took us to Casco Viejo, the old town of Panama City, and we got out in a square. Elayna led us through the lobby of a hotel and up the stairs to a rooftop bar. We grabbed a high top by the edge with a view of the coastline.
The scenery was stunning. The sun approached the horizon, the brightness of the day fading, and the lights of Panama City’s skyscrapers, visible several kilometers down the coast, sparkled in the darkening sky.
While we waited for our drinks, Elayna pulled out her phone. “We must selfie.” she said.
We gathered on one side of the table, the backdrop of the ocean and Panama City behind us.
“Un, deux, trois!”
Elayna took about fifteen pictures, the last half of which probably captured me grimacing. Eivind pulled back first.
“Enough, Elayna,” he said, exasperated.
She let us break apart, but flipped through the photos. “Look. This one is perfect!” She thrust her phone in my face.
It was perfect. We were smiling, relieved and happy. The pastel light of early sunset gave the city a soft glow and the ocean extended off into the horizon.
In the picture, Eivind was by my side, one arm around my waist, the other on Jonas’s shoulder, his palm squeezing his brother.
This might be the only picture I’d ever have with Eivind.
“Can you send this to me?”
“But of course.”
When our drinks came, we clinked glasses.
“Tell me about where you’ll go next,” I said.
Eivind put his hand on my bare thigh and g
ave me a squeeze.
“From here,” Jonas said as he traced a line in the air, demonstrating, “we sail southwest. We pass over the equator, and what is called the doldrums; there is no wind there. Then, when we find wind again, we turn west and sail until we hit the Marquesas.”
Jonas told me more about the Marquesas, a cluster of island groups in French Polynesia— an overseas territory of France. They were the islands farthest to the east, and where sailors would make their first landfall after crossing the Pacific Ocean.
“How long will it take you to sail all that way?”
“Maybe twenty-five days. It depends on the doldrums.”
“Wow, okay. And then what?”
“We will sail the islands a little bit: many small places in French Polynesia, including Tahiti and Bora Bora, then the Cook Islands, Tonga, New Zealand. There I will sell the boat.”
“How long will that take you?”
“We sail to New Zealand around November. That is where boats go to escape the cyclones.”
“That will be an amazing trip. I’m so jealous of all the travel, but I’m not sure I could handle being on a boat for twenty-five days.”
“Do you get seasick?” Eivind asked.
“A little. I’ve been on small boats before for day trips out in the ocean. It wasn’t pleasant, but I didn’t vomit. I guess you can’t get seasick if you want to sail around like you are doing.”
“That isn’t true. I get seasick a little bit,” Marcella told me. “I have thrown up once or twice, but it gets better after a few days. Plenty of sailors deal with it.”
“It tends to get a little boring though,” Eivind said. “You have to be able to entertain yourself for a long time.”
“What’s the longest you’ve been out at sea for?”
“Eivind and I,” Jonas said, “with our other crew members, we did fourteen days across the Atlantic.”
“And you?” I turned to Marcella and Elayna.
“I have sailed across the Atlantic, on a different boat before I met Jonas. It took us nineteen days at sea,” Elayna said.
“My longest sail was on Eik, coming to Panama,” said Marcella.
“That’s amazing. Are you nervous?”
Marcella laughed. “Yes, of course. Everyone is on some level. I don’t enjoy sailing much, but it’s a good way to travel. Good for the environment and good for the soul, I think.”
I nodded, trying to imagine what it would be like out there. Eivind’s finger traced a small circle on my inner thigh and I tried not to get too distracted.
“What are the plans for tomorrow?”
“Well,” Jonas said, leaning back, “I did check the weather forecast for this week, and we could leave on Monday.”
“Really?” Eivind glanced at me. “That is sooner than we thought.”
Jonas shrugged. “Yes, but we are ready. We need to stock up on food and do a few projects, but mostly I think it is time. Tomorrow we will do some more shopping, stuff like that.”
“My flight is Monday too,” I said.
“Where are you flying to?” Marcella asked.
“Bogotá, but I won’t have much time in Colombia. I had to cut it short to make it through the canal with you.”
“And then?”
“Peru, Ecuador, Bolivia, and Chile.”
“Ah, along the Pan-American Highway. That is unfortunate that you will miss Argentina.”
Marcella told me about a trip she took to Argentina, making me wistful for more time to add on a visit, and Eivind and Jonas talked about a project on the boat. A few people had started to sway to the music, and Elayna tried to convince Jonas to dance with her. When he couldn’t be budged, Elayna stole Marcella instead.
Jonas stood up. “Hit the head,” he explained.
Eivind and I were left alone at the table and his hand moved up my leg another inch. I tried to swat him away.
“Eivind, stop! I’m not going to make it very long if you keep teasing me.”
“I don’t want you to make it very long. I would rather spend an evening on the boat with you, doing anything, than drinking with my crewmates.” He seemed to sober up a little bit. “We only have a few more days left.”
“I know.” I sighed. “It’s kind of a good thing, bad thing, yeah?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, four nights to have some fun,” I said as I leaned around to kiss Eivind below his ear. “Not too short, not too long. You won’t fall in love with me.” I kissed him again and he snorted.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Stop it,” I admonished him. “You know, I really like your neck too. Especially here.” I traced my finger down his Adam’s apple, and it bobbed as he swallowed.
A throat cleared behind me, and Jonas took a seat across from us.
Eivind held out his palm. “Keys.”
Jonas groaned. “What? No! We have not even had dinner yet!”
“Sorry. Keys.”
“You are not sorry.”
“I am,” I said.
“Trust me, you will not be,” Eivind assured me. “Keys.”
Eighteen
Jonas pulled the boat key and the cord for the dinghy out of his pocket and held them up in front of his face. “Promise me. When I call, you will come to pick us up. Eivind. Promise me.”
“Yes, I promise.”
“You will keep your phone on, plug it in when you get home, and make sure the ringer is on. PROMISE.” Jonas turned to me. “Lila, promise.”
I raised my right hand. “I solemnly swear I will not let rooting with Eivind strand you on land. This is not a mutiny.”
Jonas rolled his eyes but handed the keys over to Eivind. “Move, move, move!” Eivind whisper-shouted like a commando as he guided me back into the stairwell.
We didn’t make it more than half a flight down when Eivind pulled me against the wall and kissed my neck again.
“Eivind, honey, focus.” I pulled his face away from mine. “I am not having sex in a stairwell.”
“Right, yes. Fine.” He winked as he tugged me along with him down the stairs.
Outside, we waited for our Uber to pick us up. I let Eivind kiss my neck again—I had never hooked up with a man so into necking. A thought occurred to me.
“Eivind, do you have protection?”
He pulled back a little bit. “Protection?”
“Condoms.”
He smirked at me. “Yes, I have condoms.”
“Enough condoms?”
He chuckled and pulled me close, his erection pressing against my thigh. “I have enough condoms to tire us both out. I promise.”
Our Uber pulled up and we climbed in. Eivind snuggled with me in the back, touching and caressing my skin, heating me up even more. Respectful of our Uber driver, and aware we didn’t have the cover of darkness yet, we kept our mouths to ourselves.
My brain had approached its limit, though, and I couldn’t think of a proper conversation for the life of me.
We arrived at the dinghy dock and Eivind hopped into the little boat and put the cord in place.
“What can I do?” I asked.
He pulled the cord to start the engine and it fired to life.
“Untie the painter and hold it while you step in,” he said, pointing at the line attaching the dinghy to the dock.
“The painter? Seriously? Fucking nautical words. Just call it another goddamn line.” I untied while I grumbled. Eivind held out his hand and I awkwardly stepped down onto the tube of the dinghy. It bucked under me, a little less stable than I remembered, and I stumbled the rest of the way down. Eivind caught me before I went over the edge, but with the force of me falling and the weight of both of us on one side, it tipped dangerously low to the water.
“Whoa. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. I almost went swimming.”
“Hold on to the painter—otherwise the water will pull it down under the boat and into the propeller.”
Most. Complicated.
Hookup. Of my life. Boat stuff still intimidated me, and feeling clumsy in addition to being intimidated put a damper on the sexy mood.
Eivind pushed away from the dock and put the engine in gear. We puttered toward Eik.
When the dinghy pulled up next to the boat, Eivind grabbed the railing on the deck and held us in place. I had to balance on the tube and take a big step to put my foot on the rail. Eivind put a hand under my butt to help me hoist myself up.
“If we give up now, at least my ass enjoyed some action.”
Eivind handed me the line and I held it while he killed the engine and climbed on. He grabbed the painter from me and with his other hand pulled me close.
Between kisses on my neck and shoulder, he said, “I did not even try. Do not give up on me yet. I want a taste.”
I shivered. “Yes, okay. I’m not giving up yet.”
Eivind gave me a grin of victory. I waited in the cockpit while he led the dinghy back to the stern and secured her. He unlocked the companionway, slid the doors open, and disappeared into the dark.
I stepped carefully down. After having been up and down so many times, I’d gotten the hang of these stairs, like the rest of the crew. Enough light came in through the windows to illuminate Eivind waiting for me.
He didn’t move as I stepped down further. I put my hands on his shoulders, intending to push him away so I could get off the stairs, but instead he grabbed my hips and pulled my body into his. I wrapped around him like an octopus and kicked my sandals off behind his back.
We stared at each other for a few moments. I pressed my forehead to his. “I think I should kiss you.”
“You are not worried about getting kicked off the boat anymore?”