Prelude

Recently I joined some friends on their sailboat off the coast of Belize. Belize, adjacent to Mexico's Yucatan, is the size of the state of Massachusetts but with a miniscule population of only 280,000. The principal language is English the crime rate is nonexistent and its coastal waters are some of the most beautiful in the world. It has a barrier reef some 400 miles long and its waters are dotted with cays that could be used in any commercial touting the Caribbean basin. One day while the six of us were in the southern town of Placentia doing a little shopping and some sight-seeing, I struck up a conversation with a tall and fit looking man who seemed to be around fifty. He was also from San Francisco and he and his family had sailed out of San Diego about six months before. The upshot of the conversation was a dinner invitation to all of us to join him and his family aboard their boat moored in Placentia Harbor. The three females in our group readily accepted his invitation — they claimed they were dying to eat something they didn't have to cook themselves and they wanted a look at his beautiful boat although one sheepishly admitted later that she thought our host was one of the sexiest men she had ever met. When she was teased about the man being old enough to be her father she replied, "If he was my father... I would have never left home!" Our host was tall slim and tan from the tropical sun, and had piercing blue eyes dark brown hair, graying at the temples. He carried himself in a way that spoke of confidence and of having seen much and experienced more. He had a scar that started high on one cheekbone and extended into his hairline, and what appeared to be a bullet wound scar on his tanned leg just above his knee. This evidence of past battles added to his air of mystery and certainly to his sex appeal to our ladies.

We took our skiff over to his boat — it was beautiful and 60 feet long, with a gleaming white hull and matching sails. Our host told us they had discovered her in San Diego fresh from Mallorca Spain. Her owners had some family misfortune that took them back to England so they reluctantly had to sell. She was a 1982 Ocean 60, named Gabrielle with a fiberglass hull, teak decks and a 15 foot beam and would sleep eight in four cabins. They fell in love with her at first sight.

Not only did we get a chance to tour his boat but also met his absolutely jaw dropping beautiful (and several years younger) wife and his two equally blond and beautiful daughters, who were thirteen and three. During their time in Belize waters they had a cook on board and her husband who doubled as a helper and deck hand. The meal was incredible — fresh fish plucked from the bay just minutes before and a medley of fresh fruits and vegetables, served with rice. After the magnificent meal, the other two couples in a state of arousal and inebriation caused by a liberal application of the local spicy rum, took the skiff and returned to our boat.

My companion and I stayed behind to sit and stare at the magnificent Belize night sky and hear about our hosts and what brought them to this beautiful spot. After getting the two girls settled, our hostess donned what looked like one of his old white cotton dress shirts over her string bikini and joined us on the fore deck and snuggled in her husband's arms. It was clear all through our meal and now under an almost full tropical moon that they loved each other madly. I looked at them and commented that they were lucky people, living this life, loving each other and being able to have their daughters with them. Our host grinned in the moonlight. "Let's drink to luck." We did and after a few minutes of companionable silence he spoke again. "Sometime life throws you a real curve ball, but also sometimes you connect and hit it out of the park." I'm one of those lucky people." His wife, her head on his shoulder, just smiled. "Let me tell you a story," he said.

Ever since that night I have wanted to tell their story. The names have been changed to protect innocent and guilty alike.

Prologue »