Surprise Melody Flintkote. Part Two
Copyright© 2019 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 29
A problem extant with a catamaran with a professional crew: passersby tend to view the guests as that ... guests. Lazy layabouts waited on hand and foot, their every need and want catered to by the bevy of beauties seen tanning nude on the foredeck ... Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two and One ... two men and five women. They were the layabouts and not the entertainment.
For the past six or so months the essential work has been done by we five ... Flintkotes and spouses, those of us who had ‘em, and our three disciples, the Ph.D, our spy and the politician’s kid.
We don’t let the crew do much more than assist. They didn’t seem to mind ... they were paid by the year by the other guy. Seven was right ... we need a vacation. Sailing is a lot of work. I’ve heard it said, ‘Brain work is exhausting.’
Engine fans clearing the engine spaces we kept way on while the glow plugs warmed the compression chambers. Starting the engines we checked both sides for exhaust and cooling water flow.
“Water on the left!”
“Water on the right!”
“Proceeding,” Cyn hollered. “JW, Billy! Strike sail. Cassie! Hoist the Q flag. Mel, collect the passports and ship’s papers.”
As an after thought she hollered, “You gods ... get dressed.”
Striking sail, Cyn maneuvered us between the mega-yachts and into the crowded mooring field as we acceded to her orders.
Everyone collected, displayed or stored as ordered.
We’re big ... the field had three balls for big. Drifting up to a mooring ball, we retrieved the the chain, hooked on, bridled and shut down.
“Crew! Wash down. Set harbor routine. All ashore that’s going ashore.”
“Getting pretty bossy, Cyn,” I said. “Good job.”
“Thanks Mel. We had good teachers.”
Everybody that wanted to go helped lower the pair of inflatable rigid bottomed dinghies and collected trash, water jugs and diesel jerrycans to take ashore for disposal or filling.
Uniform of the day? Bikinis and wraps ... short and tees. Flip-flops or sandals. First things first, the laundry had an old steam locomotive’s boiler ... water ... fresh ... hot water. Showers were five bucks ... each ... and not a single one of us complained. Oh god ... clean hair ... really clean ... so clean it squeaked. The last hot fresh water was Odessa ... that was two weeks ago ... and another planet.
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