Chapter 5

We had to beat out of Cape Town. You may not be surprised to hear we didn't cast off until almost mid-day as Kelly insisted on one last session on that bed and after the necessary shower, we had another last session. I had to 'put my foot down with a firm hand' after the second shower so we could check out and escape the harbour in daylight. I resorted to the motor for an hour or so just to keep clear of the commercial traffic and it was nightfall before I was happy to turn north-west onto our course for St. Helena.

We were well rested, despite our physical exercise over the previous three days, so Kelly was reluctant to sleep. I persuaded her to go below at midnight, promising lots of love once we were well clear and established in the south-east trade winds. It was three weeks to Jamestown, St Helena, roughly a five-knot average.

The holding (how well an anchor grips the ground), I was advised, was poor. The ferryman directed us to one of the better places, but I didn't want to stay long, just two nights to refuel, top off the drinking water and food, purchase some perishables and have a shower. Need I mention it was nice to sleep with Kelly for two nights? Not that I was very comfortable that both of us were asleep all night, but I was fairly sure I'd wake if the anchor dragged.

Ninth October, we were under way once more. I didn't like the reports I'd heard of Brazilian ports, so we were heading for Ascension Island first, about seven hundred and fifty miles, just a week's sailing. The Islanders were wonderful; welcoming and friendly ... and British. We spent a week there. Kelly had had her period as we crossed to the island – although unhappy that she still wasn't pregnant, she was happy we could make love in a relaxed sort of way.

So on the twenty-third we were underway for Barbados. Can you spell 'doldrums'? Five days out of Ascension the wind dropped to nothing. Well. Much as I would have liked to, I couldn't make love all the time. Kelly was a good practical sailor by that time and had even gained sufficient confidence to stand a watch knowing when to call for help. So I added theory. Applicable theory. Mathematics, celestial navigation; operating the VHF radio, meteorology.

"But what did you do before I came aboard?"

"Oh ... fished, thought, read books ... and emailed. Listened to the radio sometimes ... and, of course kept in touch with the magazines."

"Have you told them about me?"

"I mentioned I took on a young lady as crew in the Philippines. I didn't mention flying to Manila, or our ... relationship."

"Oh..."

The lack of wind lasted a week during which we made a little progress, averaging at about one knot. Things looked up then, a little – ten days averaging three knots put us north of the Equator and halfway to our destination, after which our speed progressively increased to get us in to Barbados on the tenth of November.

I didn't want to leave Farsight – or her tender – unattended for any longer than absolutely necessary and to my surprise Kelly didn't really want to go ashore without me. We restocked, refuelled and flushed the drinking water before setting sail for Halifax in Canada.

Kelly had another period whilst crossing to Barbados, and started again shortly after we left. I thought she was getting a little down about it, though she didn't mention her desire to be pregnant again. I concentrated on trying to assure her of my love at every opportunity. Sailing north, more or less along longitude sixty west, we had plenty to occupy us, both from commercial traffic across the ocean and the weather, but we managed to maintain about a five knot average despite taking reefs at night. As the "Swallows'" father told them, "Never be afraid to reef a small boat at night." I told Kelly the sailor's prayer; "Oh, God ... your ocean is so big and my boat is so small ... protect me."

We found a berth in Halifax on the eighth of December at the Armdale Yacht Club. Ah ... hot showers and laundry. Perhaps even more welcome, somewhere to buy the cold-weather clothing we'd been wanting for the previous thousand miles or so, making do in Kelly's case by wearing some of my things which were much too big for her but at least they were warm.

I found myself, not just anxious to be back at sea, but to my surprise, anxious to be home. A desire, moreover, shared by my companion.

"When will we be in UK, Jim?"

"At a minimum, about three weeks from leaving here. Probably nearer a month. Winter weather in the North Atlantic is ... unpleasant and unreliable."

A couple of days after our arrival, we were having dinner in the Yacht Club when we were approached by a tall, slim woman with a weathered face and short, fair hair.

"Captain Smith?"

I stood. "I'm Jim Smith."

"I'm Simone Lefebre..." her voice, despite her name, was northern British – Geordie, I thought. Was her name supposed to mean something to me? I cocked my head and raised an eyebrow.

"I understand," she went on, "that you're on your way back to Britain?"

"We are," I admitted, "sometime in the next few days."

"I recently ferried a yacht across here and was going to get a flight back, but when I heard about you I wondered if I could take passage with you? I could make myself useful..."

"I have a crew," I said.

She looked at Kelly and smiled slightly. "The two of you sailed the Cape of Storms," she said, looking back at me.

"We did," I agreed, "when I set out from England, I intended to sail the other way and round Cape Horn, but ... I ended up going the other way and took the Panama Canal. The Cape of Good Hope was quite enough for me."

She made a moue. "I've never sailed either, but I am an Ocean Yachtmaster and I've sailed the Atlantic both ways several times."

I looked at Kelly, whose face bore a neutral expression. Then back to Simone. "Come along to Farsight in the morning and we'll talk about it," I suggested.

She smiled, nodded, we shook hands and she left. I seated myself once more and looked at Kelly, whose eyes were downcast and fixed on her plate. I deliberately took a mouthful of food before saying anything. "Nothing to say, Kelly?"

She shrugged. The rest of our meal was silent. When we left to walk back to the boat, she didn't immediately take my hand as she would usually and when I took hers it was limp in mine; back at Farsight, when I released it, she went straight to our cabin. I boiled a kettle for tea and sat to drink it, shaking my head. What was going on? When I heard bumping around from our cabin, I went to investigate. I found Kelly stuffing clothes into kit-bags.

"What the hell are you doing?" I didn't raise my voice, but I certainly put some emphasis in.

She turned to face me and I saw tears streaking her face. "I'm moving back into the other cabin."

"What! Why?"

"I saw the way she was looking at you ... I wouldn't want to be in the way."

That rocked me back on my heels. I'd actually been so focussed on Kelly I hadn't really noticed anything about the way Simone related to me; so used to being dismissed once business was concluded, I had just closed myself in to avoid hurt.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no!" I closed the few inches between us and took her face between my two hands. My thumb stroked the scar on her cheek, and I lowered my lips to hers, trying to express in a kiss all the feelings, the desire, the respect, the love ... and the fear of losing something precious. She sagged in my arms and began to cry in full earnest.

I lowered her to the bed and took off her deck-shoes, removed mine and lay myself beside her, taking her in my arms. "Kelly ... you aren't going anywhere. Unless you really don't want me. Do you want to leave? I'll put you on a plane to London, if you like, give you some money ... enough to live there for a few months and get back to Manila if you want ... You can avoid several weeks of cold, hard work sailing across the North Atlantic..."

She clung to me and I held her as she cried herself out. By the time she'd finished, I think we were both feeling the chill of the season in the unheated cabin.

"Come on, Kelly. Let's go and get some heat on, have a hot drink. We need to talk."

Back in what I grandly call the saloon, really a small sitting area with bench-seats that double as bunks when necessary, plus the navigation station and galley space ... I lit the oil-stove and put the kettle on as Kelly watched. I changed my mind though, and heated milk for cocoa.

When I handed her a mug of hot cocoa, she looked up at me. "Do you want me to stay? Really?"

"I really want you to stay. Kelly – I love you. I think we're made for each other. If Ms Lefebre is interested in me, she's ... well, probably interested because of what I've been doing over the last year. There may be others in the future. I'm not interested in someone who is after me because I'm a round-the-world sailor."