Chapter 8

We might have been an old married couple ... almost. Not long after the dawn light woke us, Grace leaned over and kissed me deeply.

"I'd really like to fuck you again before breakfast, Ted, but I also want to get to sea."

"Only one thing wrong with what you just said, Sweetie," I said, "we don't fuck, we make love."

She froze and looked at me, eyes wide, then kissed me again, more passionately than before. Even so, she got out of bed, climbed into some clothes and disappeared in the direction of the shower-block. As for me, I started some breakfast and, as soon as the kettle started singing, had a tepid wash. Porridge and bacon sarnies (for me) and Sosmix ones (for Grace) and we were all set for the day.

Grace ran through the start-up procedure, running the fan in the 'engine-room', and starting the Volvo diesel, while I dealt with the mooring warps. As soon as I cast off the last line, the bow warp, I waved to Grace. She put the motor in gear and we reversed out of the berth. I was there with a boat-hook to fend off if necessary, but it wasn't; she barely even rubbed the fenders, which I pulled in and put away as soon as we were clear.

Grace obviously remembered my exhortation, 'There's no such thing as too slow', because she guided Serendipity out of the marina and into the bay at little more than steerage-way. It was well done – I didn't cringe once. I made my way aft to the cockpit.

"Well done, Mister Mate. Increase speed now to six knots, please."

"Aye, aye, Skipper!"

Grace, eyes sparkling, at the wheel, we left Peterhead harbour and headed east for an hour before turning north-east. The barometer was showing 1030, down a couple of millibars from the previous night, but with the six knots of wind created by our forward progress, I couldn't detect any natural wind. The forecast was 'light airs' and 'cyclonic', meaning what wind there was was extremely variable in direction. If we'd stayed inshore, we could probably have made some progress using a sea-breeze, caused by temperature differential between land and sea, but Serendipity likes quite a strong wind and if we were going to go, I wanted to get clear of land and shipping lanes as far as possible. So the diesel got a little use, for once.

Late morning, as I was about to take over the helm again, I got out a mackerel line. I can't say I'm keen on mackerel, which is an oily fish, lacking (to my mind) the flavour of herring, but fresh mackerel makes a decent meal. I slowed Serendipity to three knots. I have sometimes towed a mackerel line all day without any joy, but that day got one after just over half an hour; a good size, too; quite enough for the two of us.

I cleaned and gutted the fish – Grace watched with interest – and took the helm back when Grace insisted on cooking. Grilled mackerel, boiled potatoes and salad, eaten in the cockpit as Serendipity, helm locked, made her way north at a steady six knots.

The sun, unobstructed by cloud, was quite hot and the few knots of wind created by our passage was pleasant, not enough to chill, so it didn't take much encouragement for either of us to strip off. The process of applying sun-screen was most enjoyable, of course, but we managed to resist the temptation to intercourse. Not without a lot of kissing, cuddling and fondling, though. Grace went through one of her exercise routines as I watched, suspecting that she was showing off to me some of the time; I thought she positioned herself with some care so that her various movements and contortions displayed her assets to best effect. Whether she did or not, it was most enjoyable. Around six o'clock, there was a perceptible, steady breeze from the south-east. We were about eighty miles from Kirkwall, and well clear of both shipping lanes, so I shut the motor down and went forward to get the mainsail up as Grace was raising the mizzen. With all plain sail, we were making maybe two, perhaps three knots. Enough, anyway, not being in a hurry. I expected the wind to veer and increase somewhat, and explained to Grace that I wanted to gybe and change course for Stronsay Firth if the wind got to southerly. Not much after eight, I headed for bed, telling her to wake me if that looked like happening.

I settled down and closed my eyes, only to open them again as the hatch opened. All I could see, really, was Grace's silhouette ... her nude silhouette ... against the darkening sky.

"What... ?" My penis sprang to attention, not having really subsided all day as she straddled my legs and caressed my chest and sides.

"I've been wanting you all day. You can scratch my itch, and I'll bet you sleep well, Ted. Serendipity will look after herself long enough for me to do this..." Her hand found my penis, she shuffled forward on her knees, and she guided me into her as she lowered herself on me. I didn't have much chance to object ... not that I wanted to, mind you ... and she went on, "don't worry about me this time, I just want you to come in me, Ted," as she began her rocking motion that I loved. I came, fast and hard; she bent forward and kissed me softly. "Sleep well, Ted," then got up and left the cabin as sleep overwhelmed me.

My watch woke me at midnight and I pulled on boxers, t-shirt, trousers and a hoodie, and slipped my feet into deck shoes.

"How are we doing?"

"Near enough eighty miles south-east of Stronsay," she said. "Wind's almost due south and force three. I was thinking of calling you. If it'd veered another point we'd be sailing by the lee."

(Sailing by the lee means that the wind is on the same side of the boat as the sails and only the angle of the sails is preventing a gybe. It can be precarious as a small shift in the wind can result in an involuntary gybe, with the sail slamming across hard enough to do some serious damage. Though probably not in the light wind we were in.)

"Right-oh," I said. "Let's make our course north-east by north. Let me sheet in the main and mizzen..." When I'd sheeted in the mizzen, I did the same for the main. "Okay. Port wheel, Grace." Serendipity turned slowly, and after a few moments, the sails swung across and I sheeted out again. A little fine-tuning of the sheets, Serendipity was happily on course and I took the wheel. "Okay, Mister Mate. You've done very well. Your turn below. Do I need to say you're welcome to use my cabin?"

"I don't like to presume," she said, though I could hear the smile in her voice. She kissed me and disappeared through the hatch.

I gave her a few minutes, making sure everything was trimmed up and the helm as balanced as I could get it before locking it, then followed her.

"What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander," I said, peeling the duvet back. She must have been expecting it, or at least hoping, as she was quite nude. She giggled and I kissed her lips and each nipple before homing in on her pussy. Just as I had been earlier, she was very ready and came on my lips and tongue within minutes.

After the third orgasm, she gasped, "Enough! No more!" I gave her labia one more swipe with my tongue and gently drew the duvet back over her, kissed her on the lips and left her. I think she was asleep before I reached the hatch.

The wind continued to veer and increase during my trick at the wheel. By five o'clock, when Grace re-appeared, we were on a beam-reach and making nearly five knots, which put us sixty miles, more or less, from the entrance to Stronsay Firth. We watched the sun rise, and I went to lie down for a little longer.

I woke with a pain in my gut. I was on my side, with knees drawn up. Grace was shaking me.

"You were groaning in your sleep," she said. "Are you in pain?"

"Indigestion," I said. "Pain in the gut."

"Lay on your back," she commanded, placing her hand on my forehead, then her finger tips on my neck. I did as I was told. "Can you straighten your leg?"

"Hurts," I said, trying to do as I was told.

"This will probably hurt more," she said, pressing on the right side of my abdomen. It didn't hurt more ... until she took the pressure off. It was like ... I don't know. It hurt.

"Stay there," she told me, leaving the cabin. Then, I heard her voice from the nav station. "Pan, pan, pan. Coastguard, coastguard. This is yacht Serendipity, yacht Serendipity."

"Serendipity, Serendipity, this is Kirkwall Coastguard, Kirkwall Coastguard. Say your emergency, over."

"Coastguard, my skipper has a probable acute appendicitis. He is running a temperature, has a pulse of a hundred and ten and rebound tenderness at McBurney's point. Request assistance, over."

"Serendipity, say position, over."

"Coastguard, we are at Latitude fifty-eight degrees thirty-one minutes north, longitude one degree fifty-five minutes west, over."

"Thank you, Serendipity. What type of vessel, Serendipity? Over"