Becky slid her chair over beside mine and took my hand in hers. She said, “On that second night, I sat out here and made up my mind to get in touch with my inner self. I turned off the lantern and began to dig down to the depths of my soul. I sat here and cried for most of the night, trying to find that place within my mind that was so lost and distressed. Finally, I heard my father’s voice floating on the wind, and I listened to his words of comfort and compassion. The name SS Pacifica drifted through my mind and I saw an image of this vessel we are presently sitting on, form in my mind. The vision was so clear and vivid I could smell the coffee perking in the percolator.”
Becky had sat silently for a couple minutes and then said, “You saw me cry the first time we perked coffee in my father’s percolator on this vessel, and I am certain you wondered if I was losing my mind. That night, as I sat out here in the dark after my father’s death, was when I decided I had two choices to make. To either slide my body into the sea and join my father in heaven, or light the lantern and follow my father’s teachings.”
Becky stood up, lit the lantern, and then sat back down beside me. She squeezed my hand and said, “I chose life. I no longer fear the dark, or feel alone out here on the sea. I can now drop the anchor and face the darkness, my darkness. Sometime, I go to sleep as the sun sets in the western sky, and wake when the sun speaks to me in the morning, without ever turning on a light. Now, my inner light gives me strength and guides my dreams as I sleep. My father’s teachings have served me well and I thank him every day for his guidance. ”
I asked Becky about her mother. She had told me once that her mother had died before her father. As we talked, Becky explained that her mother had died from pneumonia, and did not get to see her daughter graduate from college. Becky was silent for a moment and then said, “Mother was the driving force behind my decision to become a mechanical engineer, and to design and build this vessel. She taught me the skills to succeed in life and in college, and Father taught me the skills I needed to navigate and sail this vessel.”
“Husband, I was very sorry to hear the news that your parents had died in that horrible car accident. I wanted to attend their funerals, but by the time I received notification of their death, it was too late. I sent flowers and a card, but at the time I was unsure if they arrived before the funeral.” I looked at Becky and said, “Thank you for the beautiful multiple colored roses. They did arrive in time and they sat between both caskets. I sent you a thank you letter and a picture, but you must have not received it.” Becky squeezed my hand and said, “I got the card you sent me, thanking me for the flowers, almost six weeks later. You sent it to my parents address, and my sister found it as she cleaned out their house. Thank you for sending the card, Stanley. I cried over you that afternoon when I read the hand written thank you card. I have cried over you many times in my lifetime. You must understand, don’t you, that I have loved you for what seems like forever.”
I sat talking to Becky until we both began to get cold. She got up and I heard her peeing over the side of the boat into the water. Once we were down in the cabin, I left the aft hatch door open with the bug screen in place. The cabin was warm and the cool night ocean breeze felt good on our skin. I turned on the lights so we could make up our beds, one on each side of the walkway that ran down the center of the cabin. I crawled under the covers, but instead of Becky getting into her bed, she joined me in mine. I snuggled close to her naked body and kissed her lips. I reached up, turned the cabin lights off, and whispered in her ear, “Do you need the lights on to have an orgasm, along with being on top?” She giggled over my words, and said, “My body is not overly fussy about the light level when you are inside me.”
During the night, I heard Becky get up, take the bug screen down into the cabin, and close the hatch door. I looked at my watch and it was two in the morning. As she crawled back into bed, she pulled the covers up and said, “It is raining and thundering. I suspect we will have to sail in the rain tomorrow. You will be glad you allowed me to help you pick out a dry suit to wear in foul weather. The suit will keep you dry and warm in even the worst weather. If you go up onto the deck before I get up in the morning, please put on your life jacket and fasten your safety line. I don’t want you falling overboard after all the lonely years I spent securing your love.” She had no more than finished her last work and I realized she was asleep again. I chuckled at her ability to fall asleep so easily when she felt secure in her environment. I on the other hand, lay awake for another hour listening to the rain and thunder that was rumbling across the Pacific Ocean this night.
I woke with a start. Becky spoke to me in the dark to comfort me. She told me that the storm had moved on, but the wave crests were over twelve feet high. She said that the Pacifica’s ballast tanks and rudders were keeping her steady in the high seas, and there was nothing to do but wait out the wind. I realized she was sitting on the edge of the bed drying her hair and body with a towel. I asked if she often washed her hair at the ungodly time of the morning. She giggled and told me it was seven thirty in the morning and daylight outside. She said that the sun was occasionally peaking through the clouds, but the wind had kicked up as the storm front moved towards the east. She said, “You may rest a little longer if you want my love, there is no hurry getting around this morning. We cannot set the sails until the waves die a little, and the anchor seems to be holding secure. I intend to return to my bed and get warm as soon as I get my hair a little drier. I went up on deck to check on the anchor, but found it rigged properly.” I reached over, pulled her into my bed and covered her up with my blanket. She snuggled up close to me, and it felt good to cuddle up to her naked back and hug her tight. As she warmed, her breathing slowed and she fell asleep again. I soon followed her lead and let the sound of the wind and the movements of the Pacifica lull me back to sleep.
When my eyes opened again, I had to pee something awful. I quietly moved myself out of bed, found a flashlight, and moved to the bow hatch. As I raised the hatch an inch or so to check the weather, I realized the sun was bright and the storm had passed. I stepped up on the deck, and felt the sun warm my body. I stepped to the edge of the deck and began peeing in the water. I was surprised when I heard a giggle behind me and realized my wife was watching me. She did not say a word, but I realized that she had squatted down over the edge of the deck and was doing her business. I sat down on the deck and began discussing our itinerary for the day. When she walked over to where I stood near the bow mast, she sat down on her butt with her legs folded under her. I laughed at her ability to sit in such a manner on the hard deck. She said that her father always sat this way while resting at sea.
I leaned down and kissed her hard on the lips. She giggled and said, “You might regret kissing this mouth until I use my toothbrush.” I stood up and decided to get my own toothbrush and return to the deck to use it. She said, “If you grab my tooth brush while you are down in the cabin, I will make love to you before we fix breakfast.” When I returned to the deck with the toothbrushes and toothpaste, she giggled and said, “It looks like your body has anticipated my intentions.” I just smiled at her while I began brushing with the water I had dipped from the ocean with my white porcelain cup. As she dipped her toothbrush into the water to rinse it, I said, “I think I saw a fish pee in the water a few minutes ago.” She giggled over my words, but did not seem concerned with what was in the sea.
She laid a towel on the deck and pointed to it. I lay down on my back and soon found Becky’s position above me had satisfied both our needs. As she laid her head down on my shoulder and allowed her breathing to return to normal, I heard her whisper, “Yes Father, I love this man.” She opened her eyes, quickly sat up, looked me in the eyes and said, “Sorry, I did not mean to speak those words out loud for you to hear.” I pulled her face down to me and kissed her lips, then slapped her on the butt and said, “Woman, you must get up off me or my back is going to break lying on this metal deck.” She helped me stand up, and I sai
d, “I would like to inspect the rudders after they worked so hard last night in the storm. I am going to get my diving mask and check them carefully before breakfast.” She giggled and said, “We both need a bar of soap to wash our bodies, our lovemaking has made us both sweat.” I looked her in the eyes and said, “I think the word stink might come to mind.” She laughed and said, “Let’s wash, and then I will help you inspect the Pacifica while the water is calm.”
As we prepared our breakfast of oatmeal with sliced bananas, I commented that we would not be so fortunate to have this fresh fruit on board for much of the trip. Becky explained that she had done some calculations a few weeks ago and found that it would take us a minimum of thirty-five days to get to our first stop, which was Oahu in the Hawaiian chain. She had calculated that we could travel an average speed of ninety miles per day and the trip was roughly 3000 miles. She looked me in the eyes and said, “You must remember that we cannot always sail directly towards our intended destination, sometimes we will have to adjust the sails according to the wind direction and speed, and tack into the wind.” She looked at me again and asked if I wanted to continue. I laughed and said, “Could we stop at the supermarket and pick up some coconuts, pineapples, and bananas before we head out.” Becky laughed and said, “If you look towards the coast, you will see that we are only twenty miles from a store. We can make a fresh fruit run if you are so inclined. We have no time schedule to keep on this adventure. I would like to be back home in twelve months if possible, but I could call my sister and have her sell my place, and then send me the cash so we can live out our lives on this vessel if you were so inclined.”
I could not believe my ears at what Becky was telling me. I thought about it a moment and said, “Let’s make the run to the store and then we will be set for the entire trip. I do believe the reality of this voyage has just set in.” Becky looked at me and asked if she needed to let me off the Pacifica at the nearest dock. I began to laugh and choked on the water I had just put in my mouth. When I had the water coughed out of my lungs, she told me that she wanted to spend a couple days with her Uncle Pika, who lived on the northeastern shoreline of Oahu, and that there was a large sandbar in front of his beach house where we could anchor the Pacifica. She took my hand and said, “After we visit Uncle Pika, where we travel to next is a decision we will make together. I would like to sail south to Tahiti if possible before returning home, and I would like to stay away from islands owned by countries other than the United States if possible since there are pirates around.”
After breakfast, we did sail to the shore and visit a large supermarket. We maneuvered the Pacifica up to a large pier and tied up to two large wooden posts. We had to hail a taxicab to get to the store and then loaded all of our groceries into the trunk of another cab for the return trip back to the pier. Once we loaded the groceries into the Pacifica, we sat down on a bench under a sign that had the number of the pier where we had tied up the Pacifica. Becky had decided to purchase a small rubber inflatable dinghy and oars to use as a means of getting from the boat to shore during future ports of call. We had the inflatable life rafts, but had not considered a dinghy until this morning. Becky had called the owner of a local marina and they said they would deliver the dinghy and oars to the dock within the hour.
As we sat waiting, we saw the truck pull up into the parking lot just to our east. We quickly walked to the truck to greet the deliveryman and soon learned that he was the owner of the marina. The man unloaded the dinghy, oars, and ropes we had purchased and offered to help us get the dinghy up onto the deck of the Pacifica, but we told him we could manage. He laughed and said, “I was just hoping to get a closer look at this amazing vessel tied to the pier.” Becky immediately invited him to join us. She even gave him a tour of the Pacifica.
When Becky brought her guest back up onto the deck after the tour, I heard her say that she was just a woman who wanted to sail the ocean and was not very intelligent. I immediately bristled and spoke out of turn. I looked at the man and said, “She might tell you she is not so intelligent, but she has more degrees than I can name without referencing my notebook. However, let me see if I can get it straight. She has a Ph.D. in Marine Biology, a Masters Degree in Mechanical Engineering, a Bachelor of Science Degree in Oceanography, and she designed this vessel.” The man looked at Becky and said, “The Pacifica is incredible, Becky. You have created a vessel that I could never have dreamed up, and I will tell you now that I am also a mechanical engineer. This man you call husband, is very proud or you and your accomplishments.” Becky looked at me and said, “He also has a Ph.D. in Electrical Engineering, and his skills aboard this vessel are highly respected and appreciated, but I wish he would not brag on me so boldly. I do get embarrassed by his words.”
The man looked Becky in the eyes and said, “Any man who is put off by your accomplishments and education, needs to grow up and grow a pair of balls.” Becky blushed over his words, but he quickly offered his hand to Becky and then shook my hand. He said, “If I give you two lovebirds my email address, would you let me hear about the many places you visit this next year. I have an author’s website and I will post your journey there so my readers can keep track of you.” He handed me a business card and said, “My first name is Robert.”
As we backed the Pacifica away from the pier with the propulsion motors, Becky raised the main sail and we caught a light breeze. As we maneuvered the vessel out into open water, I poured two cups of water and brought them up onto the deck. I handed one to Becky and stood with her until we were clear of the last harbor marker. I finished drinking my water and raised the foresail. When I had set the sail where I thought it should be, I turned to Becky. She smiled and said, “You have it correct my friend. You will be setting sails on your own in no time. By the time we arrive in Hawaii, you will be able to tack in the wind with the best of us.”
When we arrived back at the sandbar, Becky said we were within a few meters of our location this morning. I carefully looked around us and wondered how in the hell the woman would know our location so accurately. I stepped up to her and said, “I respect your knowledge of the sea, and I am certain you are correct with the statement you just made about our location, but I am going to check on the GPS to see if you are bull shitting me.” She laughed and said, “I will wait here for your return and your apology.” I laughed the entire time I climbed down into the cabin and opened my notebook to the page where I had documented our location this morning. When I wrote down our current GPS position and compared it to the one in my notebook, I stood mumbling to myself. I heard Becky drop the port side anchor and decided it was time to face the woman I called captain.
As I stepped up onto the deck with my notebook in hand, she stood facing me with her hands in the pockets of her shorts. I stepped up close to her and looked her directly into the eyes. I said, “I owe you an apology for questioning your sailing abilities, Captain. You have humbled me with your skills and understanding of the sea.” I turned around and stood beside her as I showed her the coordinates that I had written down this morning, and the ones I had written in the left margin of my notebook a couple minutes ago. She studied the notes and said, “I am a little pissed at myself. I am over a hundred feet from our location this morning. There is no excuse for that kind of error. Father would whoop my butt for that error.” I giggled and said, “Well I won’t whoop your butt, but from this point on, I will kiss it a little more often, Captain.”
She said, “I need a swim. How about if we put on the diving gear and see if we can find supper.” As we headed down into the cabin, she stripped off her clothes, pulled a white Under Armour long sleeve shirt over her head, and wiggled it down over her breasts. By the time she had managed to get her body parts properly situated in the shirt, my shorts would no longer fit properly, but I managed to get them zipped. Then she put on a pair of black shorts, and a pair of socks. I was soon dressed and had our masks, snorkels, and swim fins up on the deck. Becky grabbed a long red handled pr
y bar with a strap attached to the handle and met me up on deck. I wondered about the pry bar she had secured to her wrist, but remembered she feared the sharks and I did not see any need to ask any foolish questions.
As we slipped into the cool water, I swam along beside her for quite awhile. Becky pointed to the bottom and I saw what looked like a rock lying in the sand. I watched her dive down towards the bottom of the sandbar, and I followed. When she arrived at the bottom, she stuck the pry bar under the object and pried upwards. What I thought was a rock turned out to be an Abalone. She grabbed the sea snail and we headed up. When we were on the surface, I carried the snail up onto the deck and returned to where she was holding onto the swim ladder. She smiled and said, “Did you notice the two lobsters that scurried away from us as I pried the Abalone from the sea floor?” I told her I had seen something but did not realize they were lobsters. She said, “If we can find more than just those two, we will catch one and cook it for supper along with our Abalone.”
SS Pacifica Page 10