Chapter 20

No plan survives first contact. We were destined to NOT make Napier. We didn’t make Gisborne ... We made Tolaga Bay and the beach community there. I ... she who had always strived for peace ... was ready ... and even determined to kill them both and drop their bodies overboard. Bicker! Bicker! Bicker!

What stopped me was my aversion to blood ... anyones blood. Hers ... his ... mine ... the next-door neighbor ... the man on the street. Blood. I did not handle the red flag of puberty well.

It started out well.

We left Tolaga Bay rested, refreshed and in harmony ... mostly. I was jealous of my prerogatives. I had spent three days cleaning, tinkering and fixing all the little things that go amiss on a protracted voyage. I expected to have my say.

Did I?

No!

Instead, I was back on the mid to 6 watch.

Certainly the sunrises were spectacular.

And I agree that under shortened sail with the radar and autopilot doing the “work” I didn’t have much to do but pay attention to the odd lobster pot and trawler ... if that was all I did.

But ... they were worried about the possibility of pregnancy ... Cyn was Cyn and when she wasn’t asleep she spent a good deal of her week off ... on her back. She is my sister ... I shouldn’t tell tales. But she was greatly responsible for my three days on board.

We ARE triplets ... if we had been all girls we would have been a matched set ... as it was JW was as pretty a boy as we were girls.

The leers and suggestions ... nay ... outright demands that “We do it again” had sent me aboard.

After we left Tolaga, Cyn, at the wheel, said, “She’s sluggish. We’ll have her hauled in Napier.”

I had just put a load of HER laundry in the SIEMENS IQ700 COMPACT WASHING MACHINE and ... as relatively untouched as I am ... fingers don’t count as long as they are my fingers ... I recognize semen stains as well as any mother with a teenage daughter ... and the smell.

“Pardon Me, Cyn,” I said. “I spent three days of my vacation scraping the damn growth off this boat. She is not sluggish.” And here I made my mistake... “Perhaps it is you who are sluggish.”

Ooo ... daggers.

Of course, I didn’t know she was laboring with the anxiety of a missed period ... excuse me... 7 days late ... period. Which red flag event struck that night and she had cramps like you wouldn’t believe. But I was on watch and had my duties ... and she wasn’t one of them. My actions created a schism in the family.

I am heartless.

Cyn is a slut.

JW is.

By the time we reached the shelter of Whangara Island, I was done. I spent the night before rigging and launching my Farr 3.7. I loaded the bare necessities in the deck cubby and left after my watch relief ... JW let me go.

I’m certain he didn’t mean “GO” but I went. The Maori settlement of Whangara Marae provided the opportunity to rent a lorry and a driver. We loaded my little boat and I rode the rest of the way to Wellington.