by Janine Marie
“I have to admit this is lovely,” I said, breaking the silence of the group. What a hard crowd. Wiffy said nothing, Catherine, who had returned, looked distracted and more interested in her champagne than us, but fortunately Stella Blackwood leaned toward Steph and me, saying, “Oh, I agree, I love this weather. It’s so dramatic.”
“Isn’t it, though? I can’t believe it was pouring rain just a half hour ago and it’s so calm now. Just look how the fog sits and swirls above the flat calm water,” I agreed.
We three turned to look at the beautiful scene.
“The shades of grey are amazingly pretty, there are so many of them. Just look at the sky, over there it’s dark grey almost black, then here light grey closer to us, with every shade of grey you can imagine if you include the mountains, water, and fog,” I said.
“It is really spectacular,” Steph agreed. “Let’s toast to Mother Nature.” We held up our glasses and toasted.
“Don’t you just love these shoes?” Stella said to Wiffy. We all looked down to see the two had on identical white shoes.
Wiffy simply replied, “Yes, they are great,” then looked down shyly at her feet.
“It’s so hard to find good boat shoes. These are the best, with white soles that don’t mark the deck, they’re really lightweight, and this mesh lets them breathe so you can wear them without socks,” Stella continued on about the shoes.
Looking down, I had to agree. “Wow, all that and they look good, too! I’ll have to get myself a pair. Where did you get them, Stella?”
“John bought them for me. He is so sweet, he is always picking up little thoughtful things for me.”
Not knowing what to say to that, I said instead, “What a beautiful flower arrangement.” as I reached for a coaster to put down my glass of champagne.
“Yes, we are very fortunate right now, the girl who does our housekeeping is talented that way,” said Lorenzo, who had broken away from the cluster of men and moved to stand beside his wife.
He then announced, “On that note, let’s all move inside. I think the rain is going to start up again and I believe our talented cook Nancy has prepared a fine meal for us this evening.” We all stood up, getting ready to move inside the yacht.
“May I request that you all remove your shoes? Lorenzo suddenly asked, holding up his hand to stop us. “With this wet weather, that’s easier on the staff and the carpet,” he said with a smile, as he and Catherine removed their shoes and placed them in a box labeled “SHOES.” We all followed their example, then moved as a group to the far end of the magnificent salon where an elegant table for 10 was laid out with Royal Crown Derby china and Waterford crystal wine glasses.
“Please take a seat, but please don’t sit beside your spouse… it doesn’t make for good conversation,” said Lorenzo with a wave and a big laugh.
What followed was a lovely dinner of:
Rack of Lamb with Rosemary and Mustard Cream,
Mashed Potatoes with Whole Grain Mustard and Horseradish,
Green Beans with Garam Masala
Adding to the pure joy of an amazing meal was the perfectly paired wine and plenty of it.
Lifting a yummy California Pinot Noir, Lorenzo said “Cin-cin… to the Yacht Club!”
“Salut!” we replied, raising our glasses.
“To the Queen… and cheerio,” from Trent.
“To new friends,” from Thomas.
“Cheers to Lorenzo’s excellent cook,” from John, and it went on from there.
How they managed to get so much California wine across the border I will never know, but I wasn’t complaining. We had managed to find some lovely BC wine but were having trouble keeping it stocked up, especially as we were provisioning at small remote island general stores. In BC you can only buy wine in government liquor stores, and they aren’t that easy to find when you’re on a boat. The general stores often have a liquor section (though it’s unclear how that works when the large food stores are not allowed to sell alcohol). But the wine selection of these small stores is usually local or of the inexpensive variety.
As the dinner progressed and more and more wine was poured we discovered that Lorenzo was an Italian count, clearly with oodles of money. He spent part of every year in Italy managing family affairs. He had only recently purchased this yacht, spent the winter exploring the Caribbean, and then had the yacht delivered to Seattle because he had always wanted to see Desolation Sound. His wife was not fond of anchoring and boating so he had recently joined the Yacht Club because he wanted use of its many outstations. The Archipelago Yacht Club that we are all members of operates nine outstations for the exclusive use of members. Most outstations offer power, water, ice, laundry, and wireless internet service. All locations offer secure moorage during the summer months.
Lorenzo was clearly the host, with his big personality and booming infectious laugh, but it was John who moved the conversation skillfully from one topic to the next. He was very charming with his blond hair flipped over to one side, his jaunty sweater and Dockers; he could have been a Yacht Club poster boy. His smile and genuine interest brought everyone out, and soon we were all talking and laughing like old friends
The evening’s topics included the interesting work that Greg and Steph have been doing for the past few years. Greg is a highly qualified and sought-after physician and Steph a well-known environmental blog writer. After Steph came into an inheritance they both quit their jobs and now volunteer their services to organizations like Doctors without Borders and the World Health Organization, to name just a few. Each year they go with teams of doctors and nurses to do what they can for the sufferers in Third World countries. They had recently returned from Honduras, where hurricanes had caused mass flooding. Greg enjoys putting his medical talents to work helping and caring for the suffering and Steph continues to blog, but now she is writing to increase awareness of Third World countries.
The conversation then flowed to the global recession, the euro crisis, the U.S. “fiscal cliff” and debt ceiling, and the Affordable Care Act. We had just launched into a debate about corporate spying—in particular, about Huawei, a Chinese company that the House of Representatives’ Intelligence Committee had asked American companies to stop doing business with, warning that China could use equipment made by the company to spy on certain communications and threaten vital systems through computerized links—when the dessert arrived. It was tiramisu, a generous portion of mascarpone cheese topping espresso-soaked ladyfingers, with a heavy covering of fine cocoa blanketing the top. John noticed that Catherine and Wiffy looked bored so he moved the conversation to Pinterest, an online pin board that appeals to women. This started a lively discussion as the men wanted to know what made it so interesting. I had to admit to spending many hours surfing around Pinterest.
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“Mom, I’m tired.” Katie had come up behind me. Nancy the cook had fed her dinner in the kitchen and she had finished watching a movie in the media room.
Looking at my watch, I saw that it was already 11 pm. “Thank you for the WONDERFUL dinner and the great conversation, but I’m afraid it’s well past Katie’s bedtime, so I’ll take my leave,” I said, excusing myself and taking Katie’s hand.
“What do you say?” I whispered to her.
She turned and said a very pretty “Thank you” to Lorenzo.
Thomas, Greg, and Steph had also decided to call it a night so we all left together.
It was only as I left that I realized that Katie hadn’t said thank you to Lorenzo’s wife… what was her name anyway? Too much wine, I guess. Tomorrow we would make up a nice thank-you card and drop it off on their boat early, before everyone left.
Chapter Four
Then Came the Rain
“Mom, I’m hungry,” Katie whined the following morning.
“There is fruit and cereal… you know where the galley is. I’m still sleeping,” I whined back at her. Actually my head hurt from all the wine last night and I could h
ear the rain falling on the deck above me. I couldn’t find any good reason to get out of my warm bed until—
“Coffee?” said Thomas, who had managed to sneak out to check the lines on this rainy and windy morning and had returned with a thermos full of coffee from Steph and Greg. Now, this was the one thing that could get me out of bed!
“Yes, PLEASE,” I replied thankfully. After 15 years of marriage I well knew that I wouldn’t be getting the coffee in bed. Taking that fragrant beverage in hand, I asked, “What were you doing up so early?”
“The rain and wind woke me up, so I thought I would check the lines and go for a walk… but there is nowhere to walk to.”
I gave him that “Really?” look.
“Okay I admit it, I was trying to see if I could get any cell coverage to download the New York Times on my iPad. No go… I even tried to stand under Lorenzo’s boat in hopes that he might have WiFi.”
Laughing, I said, “Being out of touch is killing you, isn’t it? But I’m sure they must have WiFi on that boat; why don’t you just ask?”
“Well, Lorenzo did promise us a tour…perhaps I’ll just bring my iPad along,” Thomas replied, looking at that item as if he could conjure up the Internet.
“Why is there a wet shoe on the table?” I asked, finally noticing—as the coffee started to work its magic and clear my brain—there was a very wet white shoe sitting on a paper towel right in the middle of the table.
“I found it floating by the dock,” chimed in Katie, looking up from the book she was reading.
“What? You went out in the rain, too?” I asked.
“Yup.”
“Found one wet shoe and decided to bring it back to our boat?”
“Yup,” came the infuriating monosyllabic answer, so I tried an open-ended question:
“Why did you bring it back here?”
“Don’t know, just seemed like the right thing to do.”
“Why were you out in the rain this morning?”
“I went out with Dad, but came back when he went over to Greg and Stephanie’s boat.”
“More coffee, please,” I said, holding out my cup to a snickering Thomas, who kindly filled it up for me.
“You are not a morning person!”
“Thanks, Einstein. You would think you would know that by now!”
“What’s for breakfast?” asked Thomas sweetly.
Grumbling, I went to the galley and started to prepare some bacon, eggs, and toast.
“Can we move the shoe?” I asked sarcastically as I set the table for breakfast.
Katie picked the shoe up and put it under the bottom stair of the companionway with the rest of our shoe collection.
After the breakfast dishes were done, Thomas and I went over to Greg and Stephanie’s boat while Katie settled down to watch Gilmore Girls, Season 2. Katie and I love Gilmore Girls and have all the seasons on DVD. I think Katie relates to the daughter character, “Rory,” who is shy and academic just like Katie is. I would love to be able to say I was like “Lorelai,” the mom on the show, who is young and hip and always has something clever and witty to say. Hmmm, maybe if I had Amy Sherman-Palladino writing for me, too, I just might. With the theme song from Gilmore Girls playing in the background, I headed over to the Writemans’ boat.
Our boat being a sailboat, the living space down below is especially dark in the rain and gloom, whereas Greg and Steph’s boat a Carver Voyager, has the galley and living space up with lots of large windows, is as close to bright and cheerful as you can get in the pouring rain. Less private, true, but in this weather, when you couldn’t be outdoors, it was nice to be able to see what was happening on the docks, and watch the rain or look for any breaks in clouds. Unfortunately, today there was very little chance of the latter.
“Should we leave?” I asked the group at large.
“Probably. With those high cliffs, the clouds get trapped here. It might not be as bad outside this basin,” Thomas replied.
“When is slack tide?”
Greg rummaged around and pulled out the tide table, running his finger down the page “9:54 am.” Checking his watch he added, “That’s in 35 minutes.”
“That would explain all the boats pulling off the dock…look, there goes Trent’s boat,” mused Thomas as he looked out the window. “Yes, let’s leave; I have no wish to sit in the rain any longer,” he continued.
I got up, having been married long enough to know that when Thomas says “Let’s leave” he means right now! And even though there was no wind at the moment, I’ve also sailed long enough to know that at the slightest sign of wind Thomas will have the sails up and we will heel over, so anything not properly stowed will go flying from one side of the boat to the other… that is, until we tack, when it will unceremoniously return to its original side of the boat, though probably no longer in its original unbroken condition.
I had just opened the sliding glass door that leads from the spacious airy salon of Greg and Steph’s boat onto their back deck when,
‘Help! Help!” came a women’s cry from the dock
Looking out, I saw Nancy, the cook from Lorenzo’s big Hatteras, the Atlantis, who had prepared the delicious dinner for us all the previous night, running frantically up and down the dock screaming.
“What’s wrong?” I yelled to her back.
She turned so quickly that she almost slipped on the wet dock. Catching her balance through sobs, she cried, “It’s Mr. Moretti, Lorenzo Moretti. Something’s wrong! Please come! I need help!” She looked up at us, as we were all now on the back deck looking, continuing to sob, shaking, and clearly very distressed. Greg, who had spent time as an ER doc before retiring, was the first to react.
“Steph, can you grab my medical bag?” he asked calmly over his shoulder— though unnecessarily, since Steph was already doing so—as he disembarked and walked toward the girl.
“Breathe, take a deep breath…. Now, we need you to show us where Mr. Moretti is,” he said to the girl, looking her in the eye and oozing with a calm professional manner that instantly helped the girl get enough control of her panic to lead the way.
We all followed her, except for Katie, who, hearing the cry, had managed to pull herself away from her DVD and had come up on the deck our sailboat. But I instructed her to stay on our boat and promised I would let her know what had happened as soon as I knew myself. She looked rebellious and tried to protest but a look from her father sent her back down the companionway.
Running now to catch up with the fast-moving group as they boarded the big Hatteras, I was struck by how quiet the yacht was. Where was everyone else on this boat? Why had the girl been running up and down the dock? Couldn’t the Blackwoods help? And Lorenzo’s wife Catherine must be with him…. These musings were cut short as I joined the group and we were quickly ushered through the boat. The owner’s suite was on the bow of the main level, but to my surprise we didn’t head there but instead went down the stairs past the open laundry room door and down a narrow hall. The door at its end was open, and even though I was at the back, I could see the blood on the floor.
Greg sprang into action, looking for a pulse and assessing injures. Thomas pushed the shaken cook toward me with a grunt as he looked about him, trying to figure out what had happened. Steph turned white and excused herself, saying she was going to look in on Lorenzo’s wife, Catherine.
“Good idea,” we all seemed to say at once but at different times; actually, we had all forgotten about Catherine.
Realizing that calming down and questioning the young cook was the most helpful thing I could do for the moment, I took her by both shoulders and directed her back up the stairs to the galley, where I knew as cook she would be most comfortable. I sat her down, then went to pour us both a cup of coffee. Looking at her sitting there, pale and shaking, I decided that perhaps coffee wasn’t enough, telling her to stay put I went in search of a blanket and some Kahlua to add to the coffee.
I retraced our path up to the main salon a
nd grabbed a bottle off the bar, then a blanket from the first guestroom I saw; as the bed was unmade I assumed it must be the Blackwoods. I returned and wrapped the cashmere throw around the girl’s shoulders and gave her the Kahlua coffee.
After she had had a few sips with shaking hands and had started to regain some composure, I gently started to ask her questions.
“Nancy…I’m Janeva; you were so kind to my daughter Katie when we here for dinner last night. I’m sorry—I don’t know you last name?”
“Nancy… Nancy Fern.”
“Where are you from, Nancy?”
“Pensacola, Mississippi.”
“So that explains your pretty accent, but wow, you are a long way from home,” I replied soothingly. “Is your family there?”
This worked, and she told me about her mother who had raised her and her brother and her cat, the town and many other details of her life before she had joined this crew.
“How old are you?” I finally managed to inquire as she took a sip of her coffee.
“I just turned 21 last month.”
“Have you worked on the Atlantis for long?” I asked, knowing that if I kept her talking, soon she would relax and the whole story would probably come pouring out.
“Almost two years…. I really wanted to work on a cruise ship.” She paused. “My friend Mary and me… well, by the time we had saved up enough money waitressing to get us to Fort Lauderdale, all the cruise boats had left. Apparently the Caribbean season was done,” she sighed, “so I joined this boat as it had just come out of a refit.”
“Where are the rest of the crew?” I ventured to ask.
“I don’t know… they have disappeared! I looked and looked for Carl and Sandy, I searched the boat. Oh God, what could have happened to them?” she cried, and started to sob again.