Sailor's Delight

by Charles Dougherty

  "I'm ready to string up a hammock under the cockpit awning and take a nap," Troy said, his voice raised slightly to make himself heard over the noise from the outboard. He and Linton were in their dinghy, on the way back to Sueño after clearing into St. Lucia with the authorities.

  "Tired from all that hard work?" Linton asked.

  "It ain't easy bein' a sex object, you know?" Troy said, grinning. "Havin' to talk proper an' shit."

  "Hmm," Linton said. "It ain't easy sailin' all night, either."

  "Yeah, I heard that. Worst part of this gig."

  "Too bad you don't like women, Troy. Might enjoy your work more."

  "Well, I don't actually dislike 'em. It's just that I kinda look at them and it's like a job, man. You know what I'm sayin'?"

  "Yeah. Reminds me of a joke I heard once," Linton said.

  "What's that?"

  "Well, it was 'bout one of them lady-doctors — you know, whaddaya call 'em? Gemologists, or something like that?"

  "Okay. So how'd the joke go?"

  "Well, see, his wife, she wanted to surprise him, so one day when he's due home from work, she puts on the perfume an' shit an' nothin' else and stretches herself out on the bed, ready, you see?"

  "Yeah, okay. Then what?"

  "Well, he comes in an' drops his doctor bag by the door and hollers, 'Honey, I'm home,' but she don't say nothin' at first. She kinda lets the suspense build, you know, and then she hollers, all sexy-like, 'I got a surprise for you in here,' an' he walks into the bedroom. He takes one look an' says, 'Oh, no, not another — "

  "Shit, Linton, looka there, man!" Troy interrupted.

  "What? You fucked up my joke, man. Timing is — "

  "Lookit that broad on the beach, man. Not 50 yards from Sueño."

  "Jesus. I see. Looks like it's meant to be, don't it?"

  "Yeah, man. Like they taught me in Sunday school, 'no rest for the weary, no sleep for the wicked,' or some shit like that."

  "How you want to work this, Troy?"

  "Just ease in close to the beach an' drop me off," Troy said, peeling off his T-shirt. "Good thing I wore my trunks instead of shorts. You go on back to the boat. I'll swim out an' get the dinghy after I get her on the string."

  Tina Booth first caught sight of him as he stood up in the thigh deep water about 100 feet up the beach. She thought he must have been swimming, but she was surprised she hadn't noticed him out there off the beach. There were a couple of those little rubber boats zooming around, but nothing close by. She paused and stared at him, her top swinging casually in her right hand. She'd taken it off once she left the couples resort, figuring it might improve her odds, if not her tan.

  He was easy to look at; athletic, tanned, curly blond hair cut nice and short. His lean muscles rippled as he ran his hands through his hair and scrubbed the water from his eyes. He caught her look and smiled at her, wading in her direction as he approached the beach. She'd been sure she'd score; she always did, but this one was something special. Most guys that looked that good were either taken or gay, but she could tell by the way his eyes caressed her body that he was neither. She was so thrilled she even spared a charitable thought for Greg, hoping that he enjoyed his dive. Maybe if it was really good, he'd go again tomorrow, and the next day. This boy — he looked to be in his late teens, barely legal, but who cared — could keep her busy for a long time.

  "Good morning," he said. "Beautiful stretch of beach, isn't it?"

  "It just got more attractive," Tina said.

  "Yes, for me, too. I'm Troy. Troy Stevens."

  "Tina Adams," she said. There was no point in using her married name; she felt single now. "Where'd you come from?"

  "North Carolina."

  "No, I meant — "

  "Oh. Just now?"

  "Right. I just saw you come up out of the water, like some kind of merman, or something." She gave him her most seductive smile.

  "Merman, huh?" He grinned, making her knees go weak. "Never been called that before. Should I be offended?"

  "Definitely not," she said, feeling the warmth spreading up from her lower belly. "So you were out for a swim?"

  "Right. Gotta stay in shape."

  "Looks like it's working for you. Where're you staying?"

  "My boat," he said. "She's called Sueño. That's her." He pointed at the nearest boat, anchored off the beach.

  "You keep it here?"

  "No. Just right now. I sail around to the different islands; been at it for a couple of years now."

  "Lucky for you. Sounds like a great life."

  "No complaints from me. Gets lonely sometimes, though."

  "How about now?"

  "What about now?" he asked.

  "You lonely?"

  "Uh-uh. Not now," he said, stepping in close and putting an arm around her waist. He pushed her hair aside with a free hand and nibbled her ear. "Sueño means 'dream.' Come on into my dream, Tina."

  "Mm," she said. "I think I just did."

  "I'll swim out and get the dinghy."

  "No." She turned in his arms, facing him, putting both arms around his neck and pressing herself against him. "Let's both swim out. It'll be quicker, and I love being all salty. You can lick it off my skin."

  9

  "Damn, it's a relief to have that one behind us," Linton said, counting the money the men in the little wooden fishing boat had given him in exchange for Tina Adams, or Tina Booth, as she had professed to be at one point. It was a little after midnight, and they were sailing slowly to the south.

  "No shit," Troy agreed. "She was like some kinda damn wildcat when she saw you."

  "At least you got her down in the cabin before she saw me. You shoulda told her I was aboard, dumbass. All that hollerin' she did, it's lucky none of the people on the little boats from the resort heard her."

  "It wouldn't have worked, Linton. You gotta kinda go with the flow on these things, man. She was hot to trot; I figured I'd better get her to the boat quick-like. It worked out okay, anyhow."

  "Yeah, after I cold-cocked her, it did."

  "Good thing we cleared in and out with customs. It woulda been bad news to have to go back with her aboard," Troy said.

  Linton nodded. "We're rackin' up some cash, man."

  "Yeah, but it's still slow goin'. We need to find a way to catch a virgin," Troy said, his brow furrowed.

  "Where are we gonna find one?"

  "Not at one of these couples' resorts, for sure. Not any of the beach places that draw the hook-up types, either," Troy mused. "We need to find a family kind of place, you know?"

  "Dangerous, man," Linton said. "You're talkin' about snatchin' a kid right out from under the parents' nose. How are we gonna do that?"

  "I'm thinkin'. We gotta figure a way to get her alone with us, but some way the parents will be okay with it for a while."

  "What are you thinkin', boy? Like a Goddamn Sunday school picnic or somethin'?"

  Troy laughed. "You dumb shit. You may be onto somethin'."

  "Huh? Are you messin' with me, boy?"

  "Uh-uh. Listen to me, Linton."

  "I'm all ears."

  "Okay. So I meet this girl, see. Not too different from how I usually do it — just pick her up somewhere. But I act like a kid, okay?"

  "Yeah, okay, but ... "

  "So, I meet the parents and get them comfortable with me. Then I take her somewhere safe, where they can sort of keep an eye on us."

  "Like where?" Linton asked.

  "I don't know yet. It depends on where we're at. Maybe for a walk on the beach, or a swim. Somethin' like that. Anyhow, I behave nice. Charm the pants off her, like."

  "Uh-uh, man. She's gotta be a virgin, remember."

  "I know that, shithead. That's just a figure of speech, okay? Anyhow, I get her to fall for me, and I bring her back safe and sound, so the parents, they start to trust me, just a little bit. With me so far?"

  "Yeah, but ... "

  "Hang on, now. This is where you come in. I'm a tee
naged kid, remember? I ain't old enough to be down here by myself, so I spin the 'uncle' tale, all right?"

  "Yeah. I'm not likin' where this is goin'."

  "You gotta do a little of the work for a change, Linton. We set up some kinda family activity, where we all do some shit together — her and her folks, and me and my old Uncle Linton."

  "I don't like this a fuckin' bit, Troy. These people are gonna see us. They'll be able to identify us later."

  "We'll use different names, and after we're done, we'll disguise ourselves and lay low until the heat's off. Remember, we're talking twenty-five fuckin' grand, here. Maybe thirty. Of course it's gonna be risky, but we'd have to snag five or six of the kind we been grabbin' to come up with that much money. That's risky, too, man. Just different risks, that's all. We gotta understand the risks and manage them, okay?"

  "I dunno. Keep talkin', though. What happens after we have our family get-together?"

  "Well, I let it drop at the get-together that we, that's you and me, we're gonna do somethin' wonderful the next day."

  "Like what?"

  "I dunno yet. That depends on where we're at and all, but somethin' no kid would want to miss. Some kinda touristy thing, like an excursion to a pirate cave, or somethin'."

  "Okay, so then what?"

  "Well, I invite her to come along, and you say it's okay. You're gonna have to suck up to the parents a little, tell them you'll keep her safe and all, but it should be okay. They buy it because it'll be like a public thing, the excursion, see. The parents won't worry because there'll be lots of other people goin' with us."

  Linton shook his head. "That ain't gonna work, Troy. How are we gonna snatch her if all those other people are around?"

  "I'm gonna pick her up in our dinghy, like for a date or somethin', okay. Then I'll tell her we're swingin' by Sueño to pick you up, and bingo! We got her. We just need to make sure Sueño ain't anchored too close where her parents can see us."

  "Hmm," Linton said, his brow wrinkled.

  "Hmm, what?" Troy asked.

  "It might could work."

  "Twenty-five grand, Linton. Keep your eyes on the prize, like the man said."

  "It's worth thinkin' about," Linton muttered. "Where are we goin' now, anyhow?"

  "I think we need to cool it for a while, work our way through this virgin thing. We've been hittin' it pretty hard the last few days. We've got plenty of dope an' beer. Groceries, too."

  "What're you sayin'?"

  "Let's take a little vacation. I saw this place in the guidebook, the Tobago Cays. Some kinda marine park, or somethin'. Sounds like a place we could hang out, kinda regroup. They've even got guys in boats that'll bring you stuff if you want."

  "What kinda stuff?"

  "I reckon whatever you want — like fresh-baked bread, fresh-caught fish, shit like that."

  "Okay. Figure out how to get us there. Is it very far?"

  "Nah. Nothin' is very far. We've probably got to go somewhere to clear in, first. It's back in St. Vincent and the Grenadines. I'll go study up on it."

  Troy was sprawled on the foredeck of Sueño, anchored east of Petit Bateau, just south of Baradal, in the Tobago Cays. He was propped up on his elbows, hands holding a pair of binoculars as he studied the other boats in the anchorage. Looking much younger than his age with his new haircut, he was handsome in the clean-cut, freshly scrubbed way that had always appealed to the parents of teenaged girls. After thinking about the premium they could command for teenaged girls, he'd changed his grooming. His companion, Linton Goff, looked older now in comparison to Troy. Goff sat on the forward end of the cabin top. He cracked a beer, noisily slurping the foam that hissed from the pop-top.

  "You're an uncouth bastard," Troy said.

  "You're in charge of bein' couth, Mr. Schoolboy. You see anything?"

  "Oh, yeah! There are some choice babes out here. Must be some kinda college vacation, like in the 'Spring Break' movies or somethin'."

  "College girls, huh?"

  "I'm guessin'. Several boatloads. Guys with them seem more interested in the beer coolers, dumbasses."

  "College girls ain't worth any extra," Linton said.

  "Yeah, I know. But they're fun to look at while I'm waitin' for Miss Right to come along."

  "You need to hurry up and find her." Linton took a long swallow of beer and belched comfortably.

  "Jesus," Troy said. "Quit actin' like white trash. Didn't your mama teach you better than that?"

  Linton kicked his prone companion.

  "Goddammit, Linton!" Troy put the binoculars down and twisted to a sitting position, facing Linton.

  "I've told you before about mentionin' my mama, asshole."

  "You need to practice cleaning up your act, man. Remember, you're gonna have to charm the parents with me when we find our virgin."

  After locking eyes with Linton several long seconds, Troy picked up the binoculars and scanned the anchorage behind them.

  Linton took another swig of beer and belched again, wiping his mouth on the back of his wrist.

  "See anything back there?"

  "None that we can use."

  "Don't be so damned picky, Troy. We ain't got forever, you know."

  "What's the rush? He'll take them whenever we find them, he said. But they gotta be young, remember? Not over 17."

  "It ain't him I'm worried about. We need some beans, man."

  "Beans?" Troy asked.

  "Cash, shithead. I'm keepin' my eyes on the prize, like you said."

  "If you'd just stick to the ganja and quit snortin' all that pricey shit, we wouldn't have to work so hard."

  "What the hell do you know about workin' hard? Goddamn gigolo, you've never done a day's hard work in your life." Linton chuckled.

  "It was always hard when I was workin'," Troy said, grinning. "No soft jobs in my line of work."

  Linton laughed hard, a deep, rolling sound that enticed Troy to join in. After a few chuckles, Troy got to his feet and went aft. He reached into the cooler in the cockpit and pulled out a beer. "You ready?" he yelled, holding up a dripping can. "Sun's under your arm, or whatever they say."

  Linton looked around the anchorage and glanced at his wristwatch. "Yeah. Might as well."

  Troy and Linton were in the cockpit eating lunch as they watched the big cutter come into the anchorage under sail. The boat turned up into the wind and coasted to a stop about 75 meters off their stern, sails flogging. Troy fished two ice-cold beers out of the cooler at his feet and passed one to Linton as the people on the cutter rolled in the Yankee jib and the staysail, letting the mainsail flog as it held the boat's bow into the wind. In seconds, an attractive dark-haired woman in a white T-shirt and shorts scampered to the foredeck and released the anchor, the chain rattling for a few seconds until the anchor hit the sandy bottom in 15 feet of water. Linton picked up the binoculars, admiring the boat and the woman as she let the boat drift backward while she gradually paid out chain. She looked up and saw him watching. Embarrassed, he dropped the binoculars and gave her a quick wave of welcome, pretending to return his attention to his lunch.

  "Man," he said softly, "wish I had deck crew like her."

  "Her old man must be a hell of a sailor," Troy said, "bringing that big old boat in here and anchoring under sail."

  "Yeah. Looks like they know their stuff, all right," Linton agreed. "Wonder if it's just the two of them on that thing?"

  "I don't know. I've heard the average size of boats for cruising couples has gotten up into the 50-foot range, but that's gotta be closer to 60. Probably a charter, based on the way they handled her."

  "Well, well," Troy said. "Lookit that."

  "What? I don't see nothin'."

  "Blind old fart. That's just what we've been lookin' for, and here the Good Lord practically dropped her on our doorstep."

  "Gimme the glasses," Linton said.

  Troy passed him the binoculars. "You really can't see that girl in the cockpit?"

  "Can now," Linto
n said from behind the binoculars. He set them down again, not wanting to be too obvious. "What're you waitin' for, loverboy?"

  "Shit, Linton, be cool, man. I've been hittin' the beer pretty hard."

  "So?"

  "So I can't go meet the parents an' all with beer on my breath, asshole. I'm a teenager, remember? Besides, they just got here. We've got some time. Let's figure out what's what before we jump in and screw up our big chance."

  10

  "I didn't know there were so many sea turtles in the world," Julia said, watching as several heads popped out of the water near them while Paul put lunch on the cockpit table where everyone else sat in the shade of the awning. "I thought they were endangered."

  "They are," Paul said. "This is a sanctuary. The governments down here are working hard to protect them."

  "But I've read that some of the islands have open seasons on them," Monica said. "That doesn't make sense."

  "The turtle fishery is pretty carefully controlled," Connie said. "A few people fishing from small boats don't do nearly as much damage to the population as a single condo development along the east coast of the U.S. We've destroyed most of their hatcheries, and now we complain about the folks down here catching a few big adults for food." She shook her head.

  "You won't see too many turtles in the fish markets, even in season," Paul said. "It's tough to catch them. The bigger problem has been that for generations, people would dig up the eggs on the beaches before they could hatch. Protein is precious; no source is overlooked. That was a traditional part of the culture that's been changed, mostly, but it was tough."

  "So is it okay for us to swim with them?" Julia asked.

  "Yep. There's even an area with dinghy moorings right over there in the lee of Baradal just for that."

  "Oh, boy!" Julia exclaimed. "Let's hurry up and get in the water."

  "Eat your lunch, Julia," Luke said. "You'll need the energy to keep up with the turtles."

  "There's a turtle sanctuary in Bequia; we'll be there in a day or two. It was started by a retired fisherman. He's managed to get the people in most of the islands to collect the hatchlings before they get snapped up by predators. They watch the nests, and when the little guys dig out and run for the water, they scoop 'em up and send them to his place. They raise them in tanks until they're big enough to survive in the wild. Otherwise the mortality rate of the hatchlings is huge — like over 90 percent," Connie said.