I didn’t tell Andrea what Jacques had said about the boat. We settled in at home as quickly as we could, and while Andrea unpacked I made arrangements to take the boat to Nanaimo to get hauled out at the shipyard there in April. They were already getting booked up. There was pressure to book early, but the whole venture would be a waste of money if it pissed down rain all week while I had the boat out of the water. I hoped the weather would co-operate, but it was always a crap shoot. April could be pretty wet on the island, but if it rained, I could at least get the hull work done. I’d just have to do the painting of the parts above the waterline at the wharf in Comox once we got a few sunny days.
When April rolled around, Andrea was a big help preparing and packing the things we needed for the ten-day trip. Traveling to and from Nanaimo would only be part of it, because we had to live on the boat at the shipyard for the week we were working on the hull.
“We could do it in one long run,” I said, “but I think it will be more fun if we only go as far as French Creek and stay overnight there before continuing on to Nanaimo the next day.”
“That sounds good,” Andrea said. “I’ve got most of our clothes packed. Just need to get the food together and check your list for any odds and ends. You’re taking care of the tools, right?”
“Yup! I think we’re as good as ready to go. We’ll just get a few fresh veggies tomorrow and maybe a bottle of wine. It’s only a few hours to French Creek, so we’ll leave as soon as we get our shopping done.”
*****
It felt good to pull away from the wharf. All my troubles, not that I had any big ones except Robert, were left behind. If there was anything I had forgotten to load onto the boat, it was too late to worry about it now. I had my satellite phone in case of emergency, but really, everything I needed was on the boat—food, water, Andrea. I glanced over at her as she sat in the passenger seat at the front of the wheelhouse. She looked content. Like me, she was probably happy to pull away from shore and all those Robert troubles. She hadn’t talked about getting a job anymore since Hawaii. I hoped I had convinced her that there was no rush. I would pay her deckhand wages and she could build up her own bank account that way.
It was sunny, but a cool breeze from the north put a slight chop on the water. Not too bad though, because the tide was with us as we headed south. We were making good time. I scanned the waters in front of us—no traffic—and then the horizon. Just a sailboat on its way to somewhere, and a Seaspan tug across the strait toward the Vancouver side, towing a barge with a huge load of containers stacked on it. Behind me I saw no one except a distant small boat. Port and starboard looked clear. Smooth sailing ahead.
“Wanna make us a pot of coffee?” I called to Andrea as I settled into the captain’s bench at the helm.
Andrea hung her jacket on a hook. I admired her trim figure. She answered my eyebrow lifts with a big smile. “Sure thing, Cap’n.” I watched her as she pushed the kettle to the hotter part of the stove and spooned coffee into the filter on top of the coffeepot.
She busied herself tidying up the galley while I fiddled with the Nobeltec program and plotted our waypoints. Once I had the waypoints entered, the boat could be on autopilot and pretty much take us to French Creek by itself. We just had to watch for obstructions in the water, like logs or other boats.
Andrea brought me a cup of coffee with a tiny bit of Demerara sugar in it, just the way I like it. I put my arm around her waist and pulled her close. “This reminds me of the time you and Monique made the trip from Lund to Comox with me.” I set my coffee on the helm and nuzzled her hair.
“I already loved you then, and I love you more than ever now.” I stood up and hugged her, and kissed her sweet lips.
“I figured it was something like that,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
She pressed herself into me and wiggled her hips back and forth. “Your body tells me you’re not lying.”
I chuckled and pulled her into me tighter. “But I think I could be lying….”
I had to laugh at her suddenly serious look. “Yes, I could be lying. We could both be lying.” I glanced around at the water—all clear—looked at the instrumentation—all set up and on track—and added, “Yup! We could, and I think we should.” I pulled her over to the bunk in the galley. I’d have to make it a quickie, but my hands in her pants told me I didn’t think she’d mind. She was ready for me.
I pulled Andrea’s jeans partway down, but she insisted on taking them off. “I need my legs free to wrap around you.” She was quick to help me get mine off as well. I thanked the builder of the Serenity for making the bunk nice and wide. He was a big fellow and insisted on comfort. It served us well today. I made love to Andrea gently and yet urgently. Didn’t know that was possible, but I loved her as much as I wanted her. She wrapped her legs around mine and held on like vise grips while she pushed herself against me. I disappeared into her completely. She groaned and I pulled back. “No! Don’t pull away.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
She pulled with her locked legs and her arms around my back. “You won’t.” I rocked inside her and felt her gripping me with every part of her body, down to the muscles in her most tender parts. Andrea’s stifled squeal released my groan of pleasure when I filled her up and we collapsed, spent, on the bunk.
“Oops!” I jumped up and ran to the helm, looking around.
“What is it?” Andrea asked.
“Nothing. Just haven’t checked where we were going for a bit.”
Andrea giggled.
“What?”
“I like the captain’s outfit,” she said.
I stepped into my jeans, smiling to think she liked what she saw. I liked what I saw too. She looked great, her hair tousled from that roll in the hay. Was I lucky or what?
“What’re you grinning about?” she asked as she wiggled into her jeans. She came up to stand beside me at the helm and leaned into me.
My hand slid over her hips and I pulled her close to me for a kiss. “I was just thinking what a lucky guy I am to have you here with me.”
“That makes two of us,” she said. “When I think of what my life was like only a year ago....”
“Don’t think about it.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to get it all out of my head; it was such a nightmare.” She kissed my cheek as I climbed back into the captain’s bench behind the wheel. “Thank God for you.” She shook her head slowly. “I thought I’d be trapped with him forever. Can you imagine how depressing that was? I couldn’t see any way out. Can hardly believe I’m here with you and my life is good again.”
“So is mine,” I said. I reached for my coffee cup up on the helm, took a slurp, and made a face. “Coffee’s cold. Do you mind pouring me another cup? I think there’s box of cookies in the cupboard under the sink.”
“Ooh! Cookies!” She turned to go fix the coffee.
I checked for boats again. It was a natural reflex to glance around every few minutes whenever I was running the boat. “Look out the door and let me know if you see any boat traffic behind us, eh?”
She leaned out the door to the deck and looked towards the stern. “Just one tiny gray boat way in the distance.”