Chapter 11: Are You Gay?

We boarded the train for Monaco for the less than two-hour trip on Wednesday afternoon. The Rappeneau’s were seated in front of me and across the aisle from me. I had settled into my seat and began studying the passing scenery when suddenly, I was aware of someone sitting beside me. It was Carina.

We hadn’t had a chance to talk much since Roland announced the trip on Sunday, so we immediately began chatting and catching up on all that had happened since then. After a while, she became quiet. I just let her have her space. I knew that if she had something to say to me, she would eventually get around to it.

Finally, she broke the silence. Turning in her seat to face me, she placed her hand on mine and smiled a worried smile. “Roland said he told you about Alfred and Archara.”

“He mentioned that they were our hosts, and it was their new yacht we were sailing on,” I replied.

“Did he tell you about ... our relationship?” she asked.

“He mentioned that their attitudes were definitely European in nature. I take it that clothing will be very optional on this trip.”

“True. They do not wear clothes when it is not necessary to do so,” she hedged. “Did he say anything else? About Alfred ... and me?”

“Look, Carina. What consenting adults do with and for each other is between them and is none of my business.”

She looked relieved when I said that and started to head back to her seat beside Roland.

“By-the-way, did Roland tell you what I said when he told me what I could expect?”

“Ah ... non,” she replied hesitantly.

“Ask him,” I told her with a smile, then turned back to look out the window.

A few minutes later she turned in her seat, and seeing she had my attention, flashed me a big smile while nodding her head up and down.

The walk from the train station to the harbor was less than five hundred meters. It wasn’t really a challenge, but next time I was going to have a backpack. It would have made it easier. As it was, I had my suit bag, a small rolling bag, and I had taken Carina’s bag for her. I noticed that Roland and Phillipe split Mischa’s bags between them.

“Alfred says they will meet us at Le Naughty Nautical and lead us to the yacht,” Roland told us. “If you want a drink, let’s wait until we reach the yacht. Because they have such a prime location, their drinks are way overpriced.”

We stopped just outside the restaurant/bar and looked around at all the yachts in the harbor. This had to be one of the most famous ports in the world for Super Yachts.

“Bonjour!” called a voice and we all turned to locate it.

Captain Alfred Fourreau was in his mid-forties, with a weathered face and close-cropped hair. But the thing that stood out about him were his eyes. They were a piercing blue and seemed to take in everything around him. Quickly hugging first Roland and then Carina, he barely acknowledged Mischa and Phillipe and he totally ignored me.

“My son Henri has procured a... (here he stumbled over the right word for cart, so he switched to French).”

Anyway, we loaded our bags on the small cart and Phillipe helped Henri pull the cart back down the pier.

The yacht was a two-year-old Sunreef 80, and she was almost glistening in the sunlight. She was a twin hull sailing catamaran with a mast that towered over most of the other sailboats in the marina. The hulls were painted in a metallic brown, and they sparkled in the afternoon sun. The sugar-scoop, where we boarded the yacht, was also huge. And sported a large dingy and a few other toys I was soon to discover.

The cockpit was apparently where everything was happening and that’s where I met the rest of the captain’s family. Roland quickly introduced us to the Fourreau’s, describing me as a friend of the family instead of a patient. I wasn’t sure how much he had told them about me before we arrived.

Then Captain Fourreau introduced his family.

“This is my wife, Princess Archara, my daughters, Anna and Charlotte, and their friend, Vivienne Ducrot. Of course, you met my son Henri before. The girls will be glad to show you to your staterooms. We may be just a little tight for this trip with eleven of us on board, but I think we will manage.”

While he was speaking, I was getting the once-over from three pairs of eyes.

“Do you girls know where I can put my stuff?” I asked them, gesturing with my suit bag. I wasn’t sure if they spoke English or not and I’m sure my pitiful French would not suffice for a two-month trip.

“Oui. If you will follow us,” Charlotte said as she picked up my small case. Her friend Vivienne came with her while Anna was showing Mischa to her stateroom.

By-the-way, the open area on the aft or back of the yacht is called the cockpit. The cockpit is generally open in the back and partway up the sides. With a table big enough to seat us all and tons of places to lounge around, not to mention storage for a plethora of water toys such as swim equipment, snorkeling gear, scuba gear, and kite skiing rigs to name a very few, it’s no wonder it’s the center of life on the yacht.