Melissa Good: Terrors of the High Seas

The radio digested the transmission for a moment. “Roger that, Dixieland Yankee . Have a good trip.”

Kerry clipped the mic onto its holder and slipped back outside and watched the concrete and wood dock recede as Dar skillfully handled the big boat. They backed into the relatively narrow throughway, then Dar nudged the throttles from reverse to forward and swung the bow toward the dock entrance, keeping the speed just above idle.

Once they were clear of the pylons, Kerry climbed up the ladder to the flying bridge and joined Dar. The boat was moving slowly, but there already was a nice breeze, and it was mussing Dar’s dark hair and getting it into her eyes. Kerry tugged at a lock.

“Want me to braid this?”

“Sure.” Dar set her bare feet on the console bars and leaned 4 Melissa Good back. She felt Kerry’s fingers slide across her scalp and that, combined with the gorgeous weather and the fact that they were headed out for a solid week of vacation together, made it just about a perfect moment.

A week. No cell phones, no laptops, no PDA’s, no pagers. Just a week of sun, sea, diving, and the two of us. Dar flexed her hands on the throttles, feeling the smooth stainless steel under her fingertips.

“What’s that grin for?” Kerry asked, finishing her task and resting her chin on Dar’s shoulder.

Dar wiggled her toes. “I’m trying to figure out what to do first,” she admitted. “We could stop for a quick dive on the way down to the cabin, or pull into Largo for lunch or—”

“Both,” Kerry broke in. “We can stop at Pennekamp and do a little reef diving, then go to that little dockside crab shack that always looks like it was built for a horror movie.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dar agreed, notching the throttles ahead just a bit as they cleared the dock complex. They warily pulled out into the main channel, watching for speedboat traffic. As they turned into the cut, the wind picked up and their speed increased, the sea’s soft chop rustling against the bow of the boat.

Kerry was content to lean against her, one arm draped over her shoulders and her chin still resting on Dar’s shoulder as they passed a couple of small sailing boats. “Dar, is that woman naked?”

Dar’s eyes shifted. “Yeah, and boy, is that gonna be a painful sunburn.” She shook her head. “Some people just have no sense.”

“Ow.” Kerry clucked her tongue. “I’m going to go put away the last of our stuff, see if we need to pick anything up in Largo.” She gave Dar a kiss on the cheek then climbed down the ladder and disappeared into the cabin.

Dar plucked the water bottle out of its swinging holder and drank from it, then put it back. She opened the small cabinet under the bridge console and selected a CD, waiting while the player sucked it in, then adjusting the volume as the music started. As the land receded behind them, she felt the tensions and pressures of their life doing the same.

The wind blew against her skin, feeling cool and wonderful.

She cleared the inner buoy and opened up the engines a little, sending the bow up as she hummed along to the music.

Diving; rustic but romantic dinner; an overnight stay at the new cabin; then the long trip out to the islands. Dar exhaled in utter satisfaction. Life just doesn’t get any better than this.

Kerry walked past the portholes, tucking back the drapes to let the sun into the cabin. She unlocked the catches and propped the small, round windows open, enjoying the nice breeze the motion of the boat was creating. With a satisfied nod, she retrieved Dar’s duffel and carried it into the cabin’s compact bedroom, setting it on Terrors of the High Seas 5

the bed before she unzipped it. She took a moment to open the hatch down there as well, grinning as a tiny bit of spray hit her.

The bedroom had drawers built into the bulkheads and under the bed to save space—every square inch of room was thriftily used for something. Kerry patted the bed. It wasn’t as comfortable as the waterbed in their condo, but she suspected that after a long day of diving, swimming, and other activities, she’d be able to sleep on the deck itself.

“And I have,” Kerry reminded herself. She removed Dar’s extra shirts and bathing suits, folded them neatly and put them in one of the drawers. “Hey, wonder if I can talk Dar into getting a hammock for the deck. We can sleep out there one night.”

Kerry gathered their bathroom sundries and carried them into the tiny head, then found spots for the various bottles and jars.

They would, she realized, be seriously bumping into each other in there—both were used to the much larger confines of the condo where they each had their own bathroom.

Kerry cast an assessing eye at the bitty shower and wondered if they could both fit into it. An eyebrow quirked. Might be interesting to try.

There had been two more small bedrooms past the master suite.

One, they'd left with its double decker bunk, but the other, up in the very bow of the boat, they'd stripped the beds out of and kitted out as storage for their diving gear and Kerry's underwater photography equipment. She stuck her head inside and gave the BCs and regulators a quick once over, then out of habit checked the valves on the strapped down tanks to make sure they were closed tight.

The boat was also outfitted with a desalinator, which would take in seawater and produce water both for drinking and for cleaning. Kerry felt reassured by that; running out of water on the ocean wasn’t funny. Since the wind was almost as constant as the sun, it was very easy to become dehydrated out there.

In addition, on the outside deck, Dar had installed a small air compressor so they could refill their own air tanks while they were out on the water, and a rinse sink to toss their gear into. It made the boat a very comfortable place to be, and Kerry suspected that even the extended length of time they'd spend on it this trip wouldn't be too much of a hardship.

She took the duffel bag and folded it, then tucked it away in a drawer under the bed. Wandering back up the short flight of steps into the main cabin, she snagged a bottle of water and made her way back out onto the deck. The city was falling away behind them—buildings crisply defined in the clear air. She could see the huge cranes of Port of Miami loading freighters, and in the distance, the outline of a moving cruise ship made its stately way 6 Melissa Good through Government Cut.

It was a pretty view, but Kerry knew where a prettier one was, and she hauled herself back up the ladder and took possession of the second chair in back of the engine console. Now all she could see was sun, water, and Dar. She wriggled into a comfortable position and relaxed, content to let the salt air wash over her as they headed out to sea. Dar had a Jimmy Buffett CD playing, and Kerry rocked her head back and forth to the upbeat tune. “Hey."

Dar shifted in her seat and looked over. One dark eyebrow lifted in inquiry.

"You ready for a totally rocking week?"

Dar propped a bare foot up against the console and leaned forward against her knee, surveying the almost endless horizon in front of them. "Oh, yeah." A grin split her face. "I sure am. Hope the company is up to doing without the both of us at the same time."

Kerry grunted in acknowledgment. "I’m sure they'll manage to muddle through for a week, Dar. What could happen in seven measly days?"

"Yeah," Dar agreed. "I’m sure they'll be fine."

They both listened to the music for a few moments, contemplating the clear blue sky and rich, green sea before them.

Then two heads turned and they regarded each other.

"Let's not think about it." Kerry grinned. "We'll just jinx them."