Regan Wolfrom - Catholic Guilt and the Joy of Hating Men

“Nah,” I said. “Just surly.”

“I should go check on her,” Jon said.

“I wouldn’t. I don’t think she’s looking for a visit.”

He went down there anyway.

For a minute I wanted to follow, to catch the evening’s entertainment. But I knew it’d be better for Jon to have his balls handed to him in private.

Not that he’d ever understand the goddamn message.

“You see them, Steph?” Darrel asked.

I remembered what I was doing. Whales.

I could see them now, their sleek outlines cutting through the water. They seemed calmer than the orcas, like they had nothing to worry about.

I guess they probably don’t have to worry anymore. There are more Somali pirates than whalers on the ocean these days. Maybe the whales should be worried for us.

“I could get used to this,” Darrel said. He had a tone in his voice, that same one you hear when you’re dumb enough to split off from your girlfriends at the bar.

“I think I’m ready to be home,” I said.

“You didn’t enjoy yourself?”

“No, I did… I’m just… I don’t know, homesick, maybe?”

“Not me. I think I belong out here. It’s probably because I grew up on the prairies.”

“So nowhere near the ocean… and that makes you love the ocean? I grew up nowhere near Alabama but that doesn’t give me the urge to move there.”

“They say it’s the big sky,” he said. I’m not sure he’d even heard me. “There’s something about that horizon that goes on forever… the possibilities.”

I could see his angle now; he was going for the sensitive poet/philosopher. Not a bad choice, but I wasn’t about to hook up with anyone this far from dry land and a clear getaway.

“I’m so glad you and Breccan decided to come with us,” he said. “It’s so much nicer to share this place with someone new.”

I heard the smash of a tail against the water.

“Over there,” Darrel said. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pointed me over to the left. “She has a calf with her, I think.”

“I see her,” I said. And then I saw her baby, too. “It really is amazing.”

“It is.”

He leaned in and went for the kiss.

I didn’t pull away, but I didn’t really participate. Naturally, he didn’t stop at a peck and went full-on octopus. There was even a loud smack once he finally pulled out.

“I like you, Steph,” he said. He was breathing too quickly.

“Listen, Darrel,” I said, “I think we’re better as friends.”

“Shit. Is this about that guy on Hotspring Island? Seriously?”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s talk about something a little less personal.”

He glared at me.

“No way,” I said. “Don’t start with that crap. You don’t get to invite people on a trip with you and then start acting like a dick.”

He laughed.

“I’m serious,” I said.

“Okay… whatever. I thought you were into me. Mea culpa , Miss Munro.”

Even his apology was creeping me out. I decided to change the subject.

“I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to sail around the world,” I said.

“I’m going to do it someday,” he said. “Maybe solo.” It sounded more like a boast than a life’s ambition.

“I guess that’d be something to experience. The open ocean, a big garbage patch right in the middle. Maybe we can swing by on our way back?”

“Come on,” he said, “we’re nowhere near it. That’s halfway to Hawaii. Good thing I’m the master and commander of this vessel.”

“Did you just say that with a straight face?”

“Shut up,” he said.

“Well I still want to visit that big mound of trash. Obviously I mean Chilliwack.”

“All there is out here is miles and miles of ocean,” Darrel said, ignoring me, apparently. “And maybe a few ghost ships.”

“Ghost ships?”

“Swept out by the tsunami in Japan. The US Coast Guard sank one of them last year off the coast of Alaska. I’ll bet there’s still one or two of them out here somewhere.”

“I hope not,” I said. “The last thing we need is for you to try and climb aboard some lost ship just to impress us.”

He grinned. “Would that work?”

“Sure it’d work. As a friend.”

He nodded.

He climbed down into the salon without saying goodnight.

I decided to watch the whales a little longer.

TUESDAY

NO ONEwas inside when I woke up; I’m surprised I slept in so late considering the noise up in the cockpit. I ran upstairs as arguing turned to yelling.

“How the hell could you let this happen?” Jon asked, pointing a finger at Darrel. “Don’t you have some kind of autopilot?”

“There’s an alarm system,” Darrel said. “I guess it isn’t working.”

“We’re off-course, Steph,” Breccan said, looking at me.

Darrel shook his head. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve already taken care of it. And we’re making excellent time.”

It felt like we were moving more quickly. I looked up at the mainsail. It seemed to be rocking in the waves or the wind; it seemed less steady than I’d remember it being before.

“Maybe we’ll get to that garbage patch after all,” I said.

Darrel wasn’t the only who glared at me that time.

“Hold on,” Jon said. He pointed out in front of us. “What is that?”

I couldn’t see anything.

“There’s something in the water,” Jon said.

“More whales?” Breccan asked.

“There’s nothing out there,” Darrel said as he peered out over the water.

“Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” Jon said.

“Don’t start lecturing me, jackass.”

“I don’t know which one of us is the bigger idiot. No, wait, I guess I am, for agreeing to go sailing in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with a guy who doesn’t even know how to stay on course.”

“This isn’t helping,” I said. “Can you see anything, Breccan?”

She shook her head.

“Maybe it’s just the sun reflecting on the water or something,” I said.

“It’s there,” Jon said. “Whatever it is we’re about to run right into it.”

“Then it’s too late to steer around it,” Darrel said. “I guess we’ll just have to ram it.” He had a stupid grin on his face. I’m sure he was the only one who was finding it funny.

Jon gripped the railing hard, and Breccan soon did the same. I almost grabbed it too, but I noticed Darrel watching me and I started to feel silly.

The boat kept sailing forward.

There was no noise, no bump, no maritime disaster.

After a minute or so Jon headed down to the salon.

Breccan looked down the stairs.

“You want to go down?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “And I’ll need backup.”

“We’ll be downstairs,” I said to Darrel. “Don’t ram anything while we’re gone.”

“I can’t,” he said. “You told me you wanted to just be friends.”

I think I let out a very loud groan at that.

Breccan and I were at the table again, fidgeting and not really talking, while Jon had put himself in exile on a bunk, reading a magazine.

We all heard the sounds; a crack followed by a thump and a splash, and the feel of the boat being jerked a little to the left.

“What was that?” Breccan asked.

I didn’t have an answer.

The three of us climbed up to the cockpit.

The main mast had snapped in half. The mainsail and rigging were being pulled towards the water, where the top half of the mast was bobbing as it dragged.