Chapter 6: Cruise

Atlantic Ocean
June 1985

Tina snickered.

Jerry chuckled.

Only a minute later, they heard Rebecca scream again. Tina pounded her foot on the deck hoping that Rebecca would get the message that they could hear her. Things did quiet down after that, although whether it was because of Tina's pounding or Rebecca's exhaustion neither of the two teens would know.

"OK Jerry, steer just a little to starboard," Tina said.

"Won't that put us off course?" he asked.

"Yeah, a little bit, but only a few degrees. We know where we're going. There, feel that?"

"Yeah, she almost quit rolling completely. That's weird."

"It has to do with the changes they made to the hull. I'm just learning it too. As long as you have some small angle into the waves these things, Tony calls them strakes, work better. He seemed to figure it out right off and tried to explain it to me. I just know this old girl is a hell of a lot more stable when he is at the wheel. But that's it; just don't take the swell straight in the sides and she's almost dead stable.

"If you let the swell hit straight on the side she rolls enough to pull the strakes out of the water," Tony said coming up from below, "so a little angle into or away from the swells works wonders."

"Should I go check her pulse?" Tina asked, teasing her brother.

"You just want to go gossip. But no, she's having a nap now. Where are we?" It was not an innocent question, but a test. With a nod of her head Tina deferred to Jerry who was at the wheel.

Jerry didn't hesitate and pointed to the map on the console. "Here," he said, "only five miles from Murrell's inlet, once through there then it's only another three miles to Captain Dick's Marina where we stop for today.

Tony didn't just acknowledge Jerry's answer; he double-checked it, knowing that Tina had already done the same. It wasn't a difficult thing; LORAN made surface navigation a snap as long as you were close enough to shore to pick up the signals. Understanding the maps and degrees, minutes, and seconds of your position was a hard thing to get a real handle on. Once you got it, you got it, but it was pretty confusing when you were learning it. At some point some genius decided that 1.17 miles should equal a nautical mile.

Tony put his hand on Jerry's shoulder and said, "Dead on man. I'm sorry, I just have to double-check. I do it with everyone."

"Yeah, I know Tony. And I have the time/direction stuff here as well. Just in case. The instruments are really good. You can calculate it and it matches the LORAN to the half second."

"Yeah, I've done that myself. I got to hand it to the crew in Virginia. They seem to have calibrated everything spot on. You know changing the engines like that and the transmissions, all that metal should have thrown off the compass, but they went through a calibration routine. It looks like they knew their stuff."

"Yep," Jerry replied.

"Tina, do you want to take her into the marina?" Tony asked, changing the subject.

"Uh Tony, do you think I should?" Tony could spot the 55 foot Kalliste on a dime but it had occurred to him recently that no one else, even his own father, had ever tried close quarters maneuvering with her. Grandpa Mayfair could have given you change for the dime in his day.

"Yup, you can do it and I'll be right there. We'll put Dewayne up front and Jerry in the back. You'll do fine and I'll teach you some of the tricks."

The approach to the marina was nearly impossible. There was a dock that could barely handle Kalliste but it most certainly hadn't been designed for the seventy foot behemoth jutting out from it. Tony had to talk Tina through first going past everything, and then pivoting Kalliste in a 170 degree right turn and easing her left side against the dock opposite the large yacht named Vanguard.

That vessel was a sight to behold. While only fifteen feet longer than Kalliste her beam was twice as broad and she was half again as tall. When they were safely tied up and being serviced by the dock crew a call came from the larger yacht.

"Hail Kalliste!" a British voice called out. "I must say I haven't seen a better display of ship handling in some time."

Tony looked up to see a trim man in his fifties acknowledging him from the cockpit (bridge) of the larger vessel. He was rethinking the whole ship versus boat argument when it came to Vanguard.

Tony replied, "Ahoy Vanguard! I am but the humble captain. I simply pointed out where the vessel needed to be and my first mate put her right in place as you see!"

Tina had come out to observe the exchange and put her stamp on the conversation. "My brother is a bit modest sir. He coached me all the way."

"Bah!" Tony replied. "I tried to impart some of my modest skill and she simply exceeded all I could teach her. Allow me to introduce my first mate and sister, Tina."

"Michael Darby, and you sir?"

Tony realized that the British accent he first suspected was, in fact, Irish. "Tony Smith sir."

"Well then Young Mr. Smith, Dinner is at six and dress is casual. How many should we expect?"

"Ah, six sir, if that is not too much trouble." Being invited to dinner aboard the yacht hadn't been in their plans but it seemed impolite to refuse. Tony had no doubt that 'casual' probably meant the best clothes they had aboard.

"No trouble at all Captain Smith. We'll see you at six."

The teens busied themselves with all the chores required aboard Kalliste after a day at sea. They quite literally swabbed the decks and wiped down all the surfaces now that they were tied up and hooked to a fresh water supply. When she was clear of salt water and once again gleaming they went below.

"Who was that?" Tina asked when they were all gathered in the salon.

"I'm not exactly sure," Tony replied, "but if it's the Darby I've heard of it might be an interesting evening. Anyway I guess we're going to dinner. I know we intended to go to Myrtle Beach but we'll catch it on the way back I guess, it didn't seem polite to refuse."

Gwen wore a black cocktail dress and the younger girls light sundresses. The guys decided that 'casual' meant no tie with a jacket. They walked across the dock punctually at six.

They were welcomed aboard and ushered through the entrance of the yacht's salon (Captain Darby would insist the proper term was saloon). It was three times the size of the comparable room on Kalliste. Captain Darby was standing next to a small bar at the far end of the room. A handsome older woman was in a chair to his left. On a couch along the right side of the room sat two young adults. They were older than the teens from Kalliste, but only by a couple of years. Tony walked up to Captain Darby with Rebecca on his arm and the others followed.

"Captain Darby," he said holding out his hand. "May I present my family and friends. This", he said "is my girlfriend Rebecca Harris, my friend Jerry Madsen, my sister Tina Smith, and last but not least my best friend Dewayne Wade and the lovely Gwendolyn Conner."

"Pleased to meet you all, this is my wife, Wanda and our children Deborah and Harold." The two young adults stood and nodded to the youths. "Now please let us dispense with the formalities!"

"Thank you sir, if it got much more formal I'm afraid I would get lost in the etiquette. We do, however, thank you for your hospitality."

"Think nothing of it. Please let's have a cocktail; dinner will be in half an hour."

They mingled for the half hour. Deborah, 'Debbie', and Harold 'Harry' turned out to be college students home for the break. Debbie was the younger, in her first year studying business at Duke. Harry was actually home from Oxford and was a student of Literature. Tony talked at length with Debbie as he was still trying to finalize his college goals and the one big choice left was if he was going to study business or finance. Debbie explained to him that his best choice was a major in one and a minor in the other. Once explained that way to him it made perfect sense.

The mystery as to why the teens had been invited was resolved at dinner when Captain Darby commented, "I used to know the owner of Kalliste, we were in the war together."

"Ah," said Tony. "Granddaddy Mayfair, he was a Captain in the Merchant Marines."

"Christian Mayfair is your grandfather then? How is the old man?"

"I'm sorry sir. Uh, Granddaddy died almost three years ago. Was he a good friend of yours?"

Captain Darby was visibly shaken. "I'm sorry, son, and Tina as well, he was a good man. One of the best I've ever known."

Wanda reached out and took her husband's hand. "Your grandfather was Michael's Captain on the Tabitha Brown during World War Two. Michael was his second officer for most of it, then first officer towards the end. He really admired Captain Mayfair."

"I was nineteen," Captain Darby continued, "straight out of the Maritime Academy. We were torpedoed in 1943 off of South America. Christian saved the ship. I owe him my life. But enough of the past now, what brings Kalliste and her young crew to this part of the world, just a pleasure cruise?"

"No sir, well partly pleasure, Tina and I planned a cruise this summer but we are on our way to New Jersey to a music festival."

"Well that sounds like pleasure to me," Wanda said. "That would be the Gilchrist youth festival right?"

"Yes ma'am, I guess it's mostly pleasure. We are taking some of the seminars and are scheduled to play a few times during the festival."

"Mother is on the Gilchrist selection committee," Debbie said. "Perhaps she's heard of you."

Tony looked encouragement at Tina to get her to pick up the conversation.

"Probably," she said. "I think it is unusual for them to invite rock musicians. As far as I know it's almost never done."

"Oh!" Wanda exclaimed. "I certainly do know who you are; you're the band, the rock band. Everyone wanted you! Are one of you girls that vocalist?"

Tina grinned, "Well I'm a vocalist, but it was Tony and Rebecca on the tape we sent, Tony did the male lead, Rebecca is who you are looking for."

"She sings like an angel Michael, we listen to hundreds of vocalists each year and only pick a few, but that's not all. You have an amazing violinist, Brett raved about a guitarist. He said it was the best he'd heard in ten years. Everything, everything, there was even a pianist playing Rachmaninoff, in a rock band! Everything was top notch so we invited them as a group."