Chapter 13

When Mary said "Sailing Yacht" emphasis was on "Sailing". While Eliza and I were furnishing the Mansion, Mary somehow found a ship for sale. It was a schooner of just under two hundred feet in length, with a narrow beam in the Bermuda Sloop configuration, with raked masts, three of them. Triangular sails adorned them, with a for'ard staysail in front of the foremast, and a spinnaker ballooning out ahead of that as well, when all sail was set. The Bermuda Sloop is arguably the precursor to the racing yacht. She was named the "Merry Lass", and her sale was ordered by a divorce decree, forced by a vindictive spouse. Now we just needed a crew.

"Wanted: A merry crew to serve aboard the Merry Lass, Long Term Couples and Bunkmates preferred. ABS papers minimum, Masters and Captains ratings better, for a lengthy deepwater tropical cruise to exotic ports of call. Must look attractive in a Bikini, and have sailing experience."

Intelligent gay and lesbian sailor couples did guess or hope that the alternate meaning of merry was gay, enough that they outnumbered the hetero couples, of which only two sets responded. Mary did the interviews, and settled on two lesbian couples and a gay pair, who consisted of a somewhat flamboyant yet happy cook, and his soft-spoken partner who had several decades of experience captaining sailboats, most recently a two masted barquette, so he knew the ropes of triangular sails, so to speak. The two lesbian couples were skilled sailors all, and equally attractive- well, one was just super cute instead.

Mary had made sure they were all 'dangerous', and they all had skills they hadn't put in their resumes, small arms experience for all but the cook, who was a medieval re-enactor hobbyist who specialized in swords and knives. One of his chopping blocks was hung on the bulkhead instead of on the galley counter-top, and he enjoyed throwing his kitchen knives and cleavers into it. The Captain liked to shoot skeet, but grinned and shrugged when I asked him if he had ever actually hit a skeet or not. He told me he had hit lots of clay pigeons, but seemed to not be able to hit any skeet at all.

I asked Eliza what was important that she had wanted to tell me the night we had met- but she told me she couldn't remember what excuse she had invented anymore. She just didn't want to risk losing me, since she had found me, didn't want me to just blow off the strange Nun who left her phone number for the Busboy. I Did quit that job, no point in it, since Mary hired me to be her 'assistant', rather to keep anyone from noticing that she was somewhat imaginary. It is a truism, that if someone acts certain that so-and-so exists, most people don't even think to question it. My job was to stay centered, and be positive.

Mary hired a martial-arts coach to put polish on my seven plus years of study in various disciplines, and to channel Eliza's raw energy and drive with simple yet devastating moves. The Coach didn't try to get fancy, even the simplest moves if done energetically and explosively could have effects beyond expectation due to the multipliers of surprise and intimidation. Just the look in Eliza's eyes as she attacked was enough to make Demons quail. My own technique was smooth and seamless at the end of the three weeks training, all the rough edges polished off. I liked a subtle yet effective medley, and Coach brought her advanced class along to demonstrate to them how to win against multiple attackers. They were all padded up, and attacked me in twos, fours, and fives- (any more than five was counterproductive, but we tried that too, to show how I could use them against each other, moving to cause them to fall over themselves.) I flowed just enough, minimal effort, using more locks than blocks, turning them so they were hitting each other instead of me. I used misdirection, so they committed to blocking the feints, and leaving themselves open to the sweeps and throws. My favorite was the holds- If I could grasp their hands and fingers, I could have them on their knees, not interested in attacking anymore.