Chapter 13: The Search Continues

"This is Pitcairn Island?" Celeste stood at the railing as they sailed through the rough waters and constantly shifting winds of Bounty Bay. "I thought this was supposed to be part of the Polynesian chain. It's got to get better than this, because if it doesn't, I don't want to bother with any of it."

"Even Hanga Roa had more appeal," Tracy added her opinion, "and I hated that place. All that fog and heavy mist? That was depressing as hell. I'm ready to suggest that we just keep on going," she gave her opinion. "This is the only inhabited island in the group, isn't it?"

It had been over four weeks since they'd left Iquique, Chile. Most of the trip between South America and Easter Island had been under sunny skies and fair winds. They'd encountered two minor storms, one of which had settled on Easter Island, leaving the rocky isle under a blanket of fog and moisture.

"Apparently, this is as good as Pitcairn usually gets," Brandon confirmed, "but there's supposed to another island called Oeno, about ninety miles northwest of here. That's where they say the locals go to vacation. From what I could find on the internet, there's some fresh water available, and it's supposed to have sandy beaches. Let's go have a look at it."

It took all of five minutes to determine a course for their next destination. As Pitcairn Island, famous as the final resting place of the mutinous crew of the Bounty, slowly disappeared behind the Gon Waki 2, none of the crew took as much as a second glance aft.

"How long before it gets dark?" Tracy asked her brother as they headed away from the barren coast of Pitcairn.

"We've got about five hours left. Why?" he wanted to know.

"That'll put us a little over halfway there, right? Do we really want to navigate in unfamiliar waters in the dark? Even if we run all night, it won't be daylight until after we get to that island," she shared her thoughts.

"Good point, Sis," he conceded, "although I'm inclined to go as far as we can, then drift until morning. If we hold this course until about midnight, and allowing for the current, we should be about ten miles out by then. That'll put us within sight of Oena and we'll land in the morning. Unless you have another idea," he invited her input.

"You're the Captain, Babe," she deferred to him. "I was thinking that we could lower the sails just after twilight, then drift until first light before we go on. We're both thinking the same thing, though. I doubt one way is any better than the other."

"And if it gets as rough as Bounty Bay?" Celeste joined in their discussion.

"I'd rather be in open water if it does, Angel," Brandon started to explain, "although that bay catches the western current and it bounces back on itself. I'm not a meteorologist, but I'll bet the winds do the same thing. I'm just hoping that we don't run into similar conditions where we're going. Maybe Tracy's idea is a better one. We won't have to worry about shoals and reefs if we're out on the open sea, and if the winds get bad, we know what to do now that we've come this far."

"I'd feel a lot better standing watch tonight, though, just in case," she volunteered to remain on deck until early the next day.

"Your intuition?" Tracy enquired, for there'd been many times in their life with Celeste when she'd demonstrated what amounted to a sixth sense for trouble.

"Not really," their Chief Galley Officer attempted to ease her sister-in-law's unfounded worries. "I'd like to make sure my niece is safe, that's all."

"Your nephew, you mean," Tracy corrected her. "It's going to be a boy, you know."

"What makes you say that?" Brandon injected his own curiosity.

"Babe, don't argue with a pregnant woman. We just know," his sister happily reprimanded him for questioning her own intuition.

The afternoon turned pleasant. Somehow, it seemed that Neptune, the God of the Sea, smiled on them, issuing a steady wind of almost fifteen knots, a light westerly current, sunny skies, and lots of warmth to take Pitcairn's chill out of their bones. In celebration, Celeste took advantage of the weather to extend her overall tan, sunning on the foredeck, but without the usual exhibitionism that frequently accompanied her sessions.

Tracy stood in front of her brother as he handled the helm. Easing back into him, she took the wheel as his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her closer. With his hands now busily caressing her midriff, it became her turn to be helmsman while they both happily studied their shipmate's firm backside.

"No show today, by the look of it," Brandon expressed his disappointment. "I think she's serious about standing watch tonight and she's having a snooze, just to be ready."

"Maybe we should keep her company up here tonight," Tracy conspired.

"Bring us to three-five-five, Pip-squeak," he chuckled. "I want to see what she does when the jib luffs."

"You're a miserable asshole, aren't you?" Tracy snickered as she brought the little ship to the new course. "She's going to kill you if you wake her up, and you know it!"

"Me? You're the one at the helm," he reminded her, then began to nuzzle her earlobe teasingly.

As the small craft headed a little higher into the wind, the jib exhibited a growing fold on its leading edge, followed by a snap as the Dacron sailcloth fluttered in the wind. When it did, the resulting report had Celeste up and alert in seconds. Laughter from the cockpit let her know that the siblings were responsible, and she rolled over to give them both an angry stare.

"Assholes!" she cursed them both. "You did that on purpose!"

"We're waiting for the show, Angel," Brandon called his excuses to her. "Someone had to make sure you were still alive."

"If I get up and come back there, you won't be!" she threatened, with emphasis on the last three words. "Don't forget, I'm still in charge of the galley. You two want to eat tonight?"

"Sorry, Sexy," Tracy added her apology to her brother's. "It was his idea, though. I was just following orders."

"I'll show you 'following orders' in a minute!" their victim cursed, then stuck out her tongue and flexed it in an upward direction, implying what she'd do to Tracy's pussy when she got the chance.

"I dare you!" Celeste was challenged with a giggle.

"Not a good idea, Sis," Brandon whispered a warning in his sister's ear. "She'll do it, and you know it."

"And that's supposed to stop me? If she does, you'll get hard, and you know where I'll want you," she shared her strategy.

"Keep wiggling that pretty little bum of yours against me and you'll have me in there whether Celeste makes good or not," he warned her further.

"And you thought I was just another pretty face!" she scolded his lack of adventure.

"Getting back to business for a minute, take us back to three-four-oh, Sis. I'm hoping to find an uplink for the GPS before it gets dark, just to see how far west the current pushes us off course."

"Spoilsport," she groaned her disappointment, but did as she'd been told. Brandon's attention to navigation might have been an unwelcome interruption, but she knew that their safety was his paramount concern, whether on land or at sea.

Celeste made her way back to the aft deck and joined the other two, her anger not yet dissipated. In spite of that, she had all intentions of teaching her shipmates a thing or two after the practical joke they'd played.

"I should smack your ass for that," she threatened her sister-in-law. "I was sound asleep and really enjoying the sunshine, too."

"You're a little late, Sis," Tracy responded, while pressing her butt tightly against her brother's groin. His flaccid cock slipped between her cheeks, effectively hiding its current state of arousal. "I'm a little full at the moment," she hinted at their possible connection.

Celeste looked at the non-existent gap between the two siblings, and had to assume that her sister-in-law's butt was filled with their Captain's cock.

"Fuck it!" she cursed. "I'm going to go fix supper, if you're going to be like that about it!"

"Don't go away mad, Angel," Brandon tried to soften her upset over being denied inclusion in their sexual antics.

"Just make sure you save me some of that cum for tonight," she commanded him. "If I'm standing watch, I want a pussy full of it while I do," she called over her shoulder on the way to the cabin hatch. "Dinner's in half an hour."

"She isn't really pissed at us, is she?" Brandon sought his sister's opinion, once their shipmate was below and out of hearing range.

"Maybe a little. You know how much she loves it when all of us make love together. We'll have to gang up on her after supper."

Sitting down to their evening meal a little while later, Brandon's nose told him that Celeste had gone to great lengths to prepare something that smelled delicious. One mouthful and his tastebuds agreed.

"You've done it again, Angel. What is this? It tastes like snapper. But you've done something to it that gives it a really different flavour."

"That's the last of what you caught heading for the Galapagos islands. I found a couple of bottles of decent cooking wine in Iquique, and it's sauteed in a white one that I bought. I was afraid the fish wouldn't keep much longer. You like it that much?"

"Tastes almost fresh," he complimented her culinary abilities. "Does this mean that I have to hang a line out soon?"

"There's still some grouper left. But if you do bring in something, I'll put it up for later, in case the pantry gets a little skinny before we restock."

"Still thinking of standing watch tonight?" he changed the subject.

"Yeah. Probably about midnight. Why?" she asked, expecting him to object.

"Just wondered if you had time to join us in the berth for a while first," Brandon invited her.

Celeste was still a little upset from their afternoon prank, but that longing in both sibling's eyes changed her mind immediately. She couldn't stay angry whenever they looked at her that way. The memories of how much pleasure they would give softened any resistence she had left.

Darkness caught them about halfway between the two islands, and Brandon agreed that trying to find a safe anchorage on an unknown island in the dark was a sure-fire recipe for disaster. He and Celeste dropped the sails while Tracy threw out their sea anchor, a buoyant cone designed to keep the boat moving with the ocean's current. With a very light and inconsequential breeze, they drifted through the night, covering no more than ten miles before sunrise. It was while Celeste manned the helm the next morning that they caught their first glimpse of the island. Brandon and Tracy had taken advantage of the free time to catch a little more sleep.

"Brandon! Tracy! Topside!" Celeste's voice bellowed through the hatch, rousing her Captain with visions of pending disaster running through his mind.

"What is it, Angel?" his worry replied.

"I'm not sure, Lover, but you've got to see this!"

"What's she yelling about?" Tracy struggled to shake off sleep.

"No idea, Pip-squeak," his controlled tone answered her, "but it sounds like we'd better move our butts. I could sure use a coffee, too. If this isn't an emergency, I'll get the pot started afterwards."

"If it isn't an emergency, you might have to advertise for a new helmsman," his sister threatened. "The idea of throwing her overboard is starting to have some real appeal to it."

The Captain was now up and out of bed, scrambling to find out what all the noise was about. His shipmate, however, wasn't as concerned, and followed him at a more leisurely pace.

"What's up, Angel?" he enquired as he climbed the ladder through the hatch.

"Unless we're miles off course, that's Oena off the starboard bow, right?" she reported her findings. "I can't figure out what I'm seeing just offshore, though. Have a look yourself."

Brandon came on deck and scanned the starboard side of their ship, not quite ready for the sight that met his gaze. In sharp contrast to the rocky shores of Bounty Bay, Oeno Island lay before them surrounded by a turquoise blue lagoon, endless beaches of white sand, and groves of palms trees waving in the light wind as though greeting welcomed strangers.

"It's the way those offshore waves are breaking that I don't understand," Celeste expressed her concerns.

"There's a reef around the island by the looks of it," Brandon informed her. "Go up the west side and keep your eyes peeled for anywhere that doesn't have those breakers showing. That'll be where we go into the lagoon. Want me to furl the jib, and you can work with just the mainsail?"

"You're going to leave me up here all alone?" his helmsman whined.

"No, I'm going to go make coffee while you navigate. I'll bring you some, and we can all wake up slowly. Looks like a good day to spend doing nothing, if that sky's any indication," he explained his morning's itinerary.

"What the hell's all the fuss about up... " Tracy growled as she climbed on deck, then spotted the little island, and the rest of her question froze in her throat.

"Holy sh-h-h-h... " she sputtered. "That's Oena? You sure we didn't slip through some kind of space warp into an alternate dimension? Are we even in the Pitcairn Islands any more?"

"Yeah, we are, Sis," Brandon chuckled at her shocked tone. "Quite a change from yesterday, isn't it? All we have to do is find an opening through the reef, then enjoy ourselves for a week or so. Think you can handle that?"

"Are you sure there even is an opening?" she worried.

"Has to be at least one," he gave her his reasoning. "The people from Pitcairn come here, and they won't be getting into that lagoon through anything but a good-sized gap. All we have to do is find it."

"How about if I look for a satellite image on the computer?" Tracy suggested. "Think that would help?"

"Excellent idea, Pip-squeak," he quickly agreed, knowing that her proposition could save them several miles of unnecessary travel.

Tracy hurried below, returning several minutes later with a satellite image she'd found on the internet.

"Looks like there's an entrance at the north tip of the lagoon," she advised, then passed the laptop over to her brother.

Brandon studied the image for a moment, then shared it with Celeste. Now understanding where they had to go, she took in some of the mainsail's control sheet and headed northwest. As they approached the gap, there was an area where no breakers appeared, and that became her destination.

"Easy, Angel," Brandon advised as they neared calmer waters. "Let the sail luff if you have to, but keep us moving just enough for steerage. Offhand, I'd say that gap's a good hundred yards wide, so you should be able to take us in under sail – or would you rather use the Yanmar?"

"I'll try it under sail. If I get into trouble, you're here to help me out, right?" although her question was rhetorical, and they both knew it.

With all the skill she'd acquired over the months, Celeste maneuvered the little sloop into the languid lagoon like she had been born to the task. As the anchor slipped through the crystal clear water, they watched it descend into the depths, fascinated as it caught and dug into the sandy bottom.

It didn't take long to untie and launch their inflatable tender. Reluctant to disturb the peaceful serenity of the island, Brandon elected to row ashore rather than use the little outboard. As soon as they touched the sands, Celeste hopped over the bow with the painter in hand, holding the craft steady until Tracy and Brandon could join her onshore.

"You're sure we didn't go through a space warp of some sort?" Tracy expressed her awe over the dichotomy between two islands of the same chain. "This is what I had in mind when you teased me back in Chicago with those descriptions of tropical islands and the South Seas."

"Should we show her what a space warp's really like, Angel?" Brandon invited Celeste.

"Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" she became part of his lustful conspiracy.

"Gawd, I sure hope so!" he chuckled as his arms grabbed Tracy, pulled her to his chest, then held her there as his lips pressed against hers.

"Mmmph!" Tracy tried to protest. "M-m-m-p-h!"

Brandon eased down to the white sands with his sister now sitting on his lap, making it possible for Celeste to get to her breasts. She followed his lead, taking a teat between her lips, then swirled the tip of her tongue around its most sensitive places. Only when Brandon finally released Tracy from his kiss did she exclaim her unsuspecting shock at their attack.

"What's the big idea?!" she howled at both of them. "I wasn't ready for that!"

"Bet you aren't ready for this, either," Brandon snickered, then kissed her again, parting her lips this time as he sought her tongue. Tracy capitulated almost instantly, returning his challenge with one of her own. Soon, it was Brandon that was being kissed while the heat between them grew.

Meanwhile, Celeste continued to send shivers of delight through her sister-in-law's chest. As Brandon eased his sister onto the sands, he began to nibble his way to Tracy's other breast while Celeste started her own migration over her belly to the juncture of her thighs. By the time she'd parted Tracy's lower lips with her tongue, the pregnant woman found herself completely buried in the throws of delicious lust.

"Gawd, you two! What the hell are you trying to do to me?" their junior shipmate pleaded.

"Warping your space, maybe?" Brandon suggested with an enquiring tone.

"Shall I beam up now, Captain?" Celeste muttered from her position just above her sister-in-law's pussy.

"Aye-aye, Scotty!" Brandon answered, which was all it took to convince their galley officer to slide her tongue up Tracy's slit, just as she'd threatened the previous afternoon. Tracy's reactions were predictable. She inhaled sharply, her hips heaved forward to meet her lover's lips, and she grabbed her brother and pulled him to her breast. Only when he managed to breathe again after nearly being suffocated did the Captain say a word.

"Houston! We have lift-off!" he let Celeste know. Whether she heard him was another matter, for Tracy now had her legs wrapped around her lover's head in a struggle to get the woman closer to the centre of her pussy.

Between them, Brandon and Celeste sent Tracy up to the heavens four or five times in rapid succession as she climaxed for them. And when she pleaded for a reprieve, Celeste exercised her own desires and wanton lust on Brandon. By the end of the day, they'd worn each other out completely. Once back on board the Gon Waki 2, it was all Brandon could do to help the two women down to the aft stateroom. As he flopped onto the berth, Tracy curled up on his chest, followed immediately by Celeste on his other side. The three were asleep almost instantly, and remained motionless until sunrise the next day.

"If we were looking for Paradise," Celeste commented as they sailed out of Oena's lagoon ten days later, "that island might be as close as we'll ever come."

"Too bad it wasn't a little bigger," Tracy concurred. "I could have gotten used to living in a place like that for a long, long time."

"We've visited three islands and you're ready to become a landlubber again?" her brother teased. "Where's your sense of adventure, Sis?"

"We're going to have a baby to think about soon," she scolded him, "and I'm not so sure that raising him on the Gon Waki 2 is the best idea you've ever had. There's so many things that could happen. The more I think about it, the more I'd rather find some dry land to make a home on. Maybe when he's old enough, we'll set sail again."

"From where?" Celeste asked in a sceptical tone. "Where can you think of that would let the three of us be together like this without having to answer all kinds of questions?"

"There's got to be somewhere that's sparsely populated yet has most of the things we'd want," Tracy answered, still trying to think of a location.

"Plural marriages aren't that uncommon in a lot of the islands," Brandon mentioned.

"And you think they'll accept a brother and sister being lovers? Not too many cultures are all that keen on two women being together, either," Celeste voiced her concerns and objections.

"So we don't tell anybody about Tracy and me being related," Brandon gave his idea a little more substance. "That's not so hard to do. As long as we don't have the only plural marriage in the area, all that's left is to keep the relationship between you and Tracy quiet. Don't forget that wherever we go, the people there won't know us from a hole in the ground."

"But you two aren't married, and if they ask for proof, we won't have anything to show them," Celeste reminded him.

"Angel, with a little conspiratorial ingenuity," he tried to put her mind at ease, "we can get around that without too much problem. But what we should be concentrating on is where we want to go to raise our little one. There's a lot of real estate to look at, and with four months to search, we'll find somewhere."

"What makes you so sure?" Tracy wanted to know.

"It's called faith, Pip-squeak. The gods have been good to me for the last year; they gave me you and Celeste. If they can do that, they'll show us somewhere to raise our baby, too."

"That's the best you can come up with?" Celeste expressed her doubts. "Faith? Not much to go on, is it?"

"Angel, do you believe that I love you?" he responded to her unspoken challenge.

"Yes! You show me every day. Why would you ask such a stupid question?"

"Can you prove it?" he continued his questioning.

"Damned rights I..."

It was then that Celeste realized that there was no such thing as concrete proof that an emotion was valid, and she paused long enough to allow Brandon to finish his argument.

"Can't do it, can you? Neither can I, but I still believe that you love me. That's what faith is all about, Angel. You believe in something, but you can't prove its existence. I've never been a religious man, but there's got to be something out there that keeps the universe in order. Whatever that something is will guide us to wherever we're supposed to go. I can't prove it, but I believe it with all my heart."

Both Tracy and Celeste took some time to digest Brandon's theory, and while it sounded a little vague, it was as good a concept as any other they could come up with.

"You know what I think?" Celeste offered her opinion. "For what we really want, the only way we'd find somewhere suitable would be to search for a deserted island that's habitable, then hide from the rest of the world. Anywhere we might be able to stay together as a trio is either too cold, too hostile, or too damned far away."

"I don't know, Angel," Brandon questioned her idea." What you're describing sounds like total isolation. It might work for us, but is it the best legacy for our child? What happens after we die? How does he survive? For that matter, how would he stay sane, being the only person left wherever we settle?"

"Give him a sister, or her a brother," she strongly advised. "If there were two of them, that would give them a reason to go on, to survive, and if, as you say, they're raised in this atmosphere we've created, they just might fall in love and find happiness. It's worked for us, and after being in the middle of this affair for the last year, I can see it working for your kids, too."

"It's an interesting idea, Sis," Tracy responded, "but one of the things that Brandon wanted to do was get away from being isolated. We'd be sentencing our children to a life that might work for us, but not necessarily for them."

"Maybe," her brother interjected. "What I set out to do was learn how to feel again, and with what you two have given me, I'm a lot closer to that than I've been for fifteen years. We also broke a few rules along the way, and that might be something else that's helped me find inner peace. If I can teach our little one to embrace that same serenity, I'll have done as much as any one man can. Dad taught you and me, Sis, in his own way, but it's taken one hell of a lot of pain to remember the lessons."

"Gawd," Celeste groaned, "and you thought I was philosophical! But I understand what you're saying. It doesn't change the fact that a sailboat is a dangerous place to raise a kid."

"No more so than on dry land," Brandon pointed out. "Kids fall out of trees, stick their noses into places that they shouldn't, and take chances that no adult would even consider. It's just the way the species is, Angel."

"So you're saying that we just carry on blindly, and trust in some unknown entity to make all our dreams come true?" Celeste tried to get a better idea of Brandon's philosophies.

"Something like that," he struggled to make his inner vision acceptable to the two women.

"Not much security in that, is there?" Tracy remarked with a somewhat worried voice. "Babe, I'm not too comfortable putting my fate in the hands of something or someone I can't see or hear. You're asking a lot of me, you know."

"There's not much security in sailing the oceans in a small ship, either, but we're doing it, Sis," Brandon countered, "and I doubt any of us would forego the experience, even after all the tight spots we've gotten ourselves into. Look, we can argue this until the cows come home. But finding where we want to end up isn't going to happen if we don't go looking. So how about we head for French Polynesia? That's a little over a week from here if the winds hold."

"If we don't find what we're looking for between here and there, where else have you got your heart set on?" Tracy wanted to find out.

"I'd like to spend as much time as we can afford in either the Philippines or Indonesia," he let her know. "I wondered about the Solomon Islands and New Guinea, but they were a little too politically unstable a couple of years ago for my liking. If we're going to find somewhere to raise a couple of kids, Indonesia might be our best bet. There's over seventeen hundred islands to check out, but only sixty-five hundred of them are inhabited. That leaves an awful lot of empty real estate available."

"Can we travel that far in four months?" Celeste asked.

"Only one way to find out, isn't there, Angel?" he replied with a light and challenging tone. "Shall we get on with it?"

They were about halfway between Tahiti and Fiji. The light winds had made it unnecessary to man the helm with anything other than the [self-steer vane], and Brandon took advantage of the day to relax as he lolled on the aft deck, his sister comfortably ensconced under one arm as she laid on her back with her head using his chest as a pillow. He ruminated on the idea of having the Gon Waki 2 pulled out of the water and her hull scraped of the marine mollusks that had accumulated over the months. Despite their attempts to remove the collection of barnacles through periodic maintenance, it felt like a losing battle.

Tracy's soft and gentle breathing indicated that his sister was enjoying the benefits of an afternoon snooze. Her growing belly sometimes left her feeling uncomfortable in anything but a horizontal position. Glancing down at the growing life within her, he couldn't help but smile at the pending change in their lives together. Even the warming sun that filtered through the canvas of the Bimini top threatened to send him to the land of sleep.

Celeste had taken advantage of the ship's slow progress to make her galley as clean and spotless as possible. Having some time to herself brought out an independence in her that she now relished, although the time they all spent together was just as important to her. As she puttered about in the small food preparation space, the older woman let her thoughts drift to the differences she'd found in her life over the last several months. With the complete change in lifestyle that Tracy and Brandon had introduced her to, she had a hard time remembering what it had been like back in Chicago. In truth, it was a life that she didn't miss for one second.

Without warning, the little ship suddenly lurched sideways, sending the Galley Officer sprawling across the cabin floor. Fearing some kind of catastrophe, Celeste picked herself up and hurried up on deck.

"What the hell was that?" she addressed the other two, both now looking over the starboard rail. "What did we hit?"

"Shark," Brandon answered her, his tone one of unperturbed acceptance.

"A what?!" Celeste's panicked tone enquired. "A shark? Out here?"

"Come take a look, Sis," Tracy invited, her voice full of wonder. "It's almost as big as the ship."

"Forget it!" Celeste begged off. "No way I'm going any closer to something that could swallow me whole than I have to!"

Brandon couldn't contain a chortle of laughter, and let his mirth escape while offering his lover an arm for security.

"It's harmless, Angel," he tried to ease her angst. "It's a whale shark. They're plankton eaters, like a baleen whale. Its throat is too small to swallow you, and its teeth aren't designed to chew. Back in Mexico, they run expeditions to find these things. Some people even manager to catch a ride on its back."

"Not me, that's for sure!" Celeste was adamant. Her curiosity finally got the better of her, though, and soon she joined the other two at the rail.

"You sure they don't eat people?" Celeste asked her Captain. "I'd hate to find out you're wrong the hard way."

"Where's my snorkel?" Brandon began to search for the skin diving equipment. "I've got to have a closer look at that thing. They're supposed to be the biggest fish on the planet, and this might be our only chance to see one up close."

"You're not going in there, are you?" Celeste's panic let him know how much she disapproved of the idea.

Brandon donned his flippers and mask, slapped his way across the deck, then was over the rail. That was all the answer Celeste got, and she ran back to the rail, afraid that she and Tracy were about to become the only two on the yacht.

Several long and tense minutes later, Brandon resurfaced, his face reflecting the awe he felt at the size and majesty of the sea-going behemoth alongside their craft.

"This thing is huge!" he informed the women still looking over the railing. "And the fish below it! They're a riot of colour, and there's got to be half a dozen different species. You've got to see this for yourselves!"

"Not me," Celeste vowed. "I have this thing about seeing sunsets from the outside of a fish."

Ignoring her sister-in-law's complaining, Tracy dug out another pair of swim fins and her mask, then made her way to the aft swim grid and eased into the water. Brandon was there to help her in, then guided his sister to what he considered the best vantage point. For the next half hour, the two siblings explored this mysterious creature and its entourage, reluctantly crawling back onboard as the shark and its accompanying symbionts began to move away from the ship.

"Wow," was all Tracy could manage to say as they rested on the swim grid, allowing herself to recover from the strenuous exertion she'd put herself through. "That thing had to be as big as the Gon Waki 2. And you say they eat plankton? How can something that big survive on plankton?"

"I'm surprised its even this far west," Brandon remarked. "From what I've heard, they usually stick close to the Philippines and around Taiwan, China. They also seem to like it near Australia. Maybe this is one that's moving from one feeding grounds to another?"

"Are they usually solitary creatures?" Celeste asked, her curiosity overcoming the earlier fear she'd experienced.

"Not sure, Angel," Brandon admitted his ignorance. "Apparently around Mexico, they form schools, but whether they do while migrating is something I have no idea about."

As the huge shark disappeared from view, the three remained in awe of the sight they'd been fortunate to see and share.

Brandon had found a marina in Nadi, Fiji that had facilities to pull the Gon Waki 2 out of the water and scrape her hull. He'd also had the anti-fouling coat renewed, giving him a feeling of safety from boring marine creatures. While the steel hull afforded them a secure structure, he wasn't in a mood to take chances, especially considering his crew and their unborn passenger.

The ship had been up on the dock for two days undergoing maintenance, and they three had invested the time visiting the local hospital to have a doctor examine both Tracy and her unborn baby. Brandon had found himself holding his breath until the results came back, not realizing until some time later that Celeste had clung to him with as much worry as he'd experienced.

"The doctor says I'm fine," Tracy reported to her fellow crew-mates, "and so's our son."

"Our son?" Brandon questioned her insistence of the baby's gender. "You peaked?"

"Kind of hard to miss when they have ultrasound pictures of him right in front of me," she admitted. "He's gorgeous, Babe. Gawd, I can't wait until he's born. I want to see how much he looks like his Daddy."

"This could be interesting," Celeste voiced her feelings about family resemblances. "What happens if I get him confused with his father some night?"

"You'll know the difference, Sis," Tracy offered as she smiled over the possibilities. "If he's anything like his father as a lover, we could be in big trouble, though. With two men to love us, I wonder if our systems will go into overload?"

"You women are becoming a couple of perverts," Brandon muttered, a trace of jealousy in his tone. "Getting all worked up and horny over an unborn baby? I assume you're going to let him grow up a bit before you seduce the hell out of him."

"Someone's worried that we might fall out of love with him," Tracy snickered to her sister-in-law. "Somehow, I don't think so, though. This old goat's pretty special to me."

"Me too," Celeste seconded the declaration. "Someone's going to have to teach my nephew about love, though. And he's going to need someone to share that with. I'm not sure I'm the one to become his new love interest. I'm too much in love with his Mommy and Daddy."

"If it happens," Brandon observed, "it'll be you girls that teach him. I'm the wrong gender, to start with, and I don't have a thing for guys. I guess we'll just have to go with Celeste's idea of giving him a sister to love and share his life with.'

"Let me get this little guy out before you put another bun in my oven," Tracy pleaded. "Maybe you and Celeste can work something out? Like she can carry one while my body recuperates?"

"Not going to happen," Celeste was adamant. "I've already explained what the doctors told me. Maybe you don't agree with them, but I have nothing to indicate that they're wrong, you know."

"There's no proof they're right, either," Brandon reminded her.

"Sure there is," she corrected her lover. "I'm not pregnant, am I?"

"Neither am I," Brandon refuted her pessimism, "so what's your point?"

"Keep it up, Stud!" she snarled in response. "You'd like to se me as big as your sister, wouldn't you?"

"We both would," Tracy came to her brother's defence, although Brandon was quite capable of defending himself. Whatever retort was in Celeste's mind stayed there, as she was quite well aware of how much her lovers hoped she could still conceive and carry a child. Instead, she smiled wanly, then retreated to the far side of the wardroom.

"Angel, if not me, then maybe someone else?" Brandon advanced an ill-conceived possibility.

"The only man that's going to be inside me is you," she snapped back at him, "which was my original point. Don't get me wrong. I love my nephew already, and he isn't even born yet. But damned if I want to carry his baby – even if I could."

"We'll see," Brandon dismissed her stance, a sly and sneaky grin lifting the corner of his mouth slightly.

Now searching through the South Pacific, the Gon Waki 2 gently carried its crew through the waters surrounding New Guinea, stopping off at Port Vila on Efate Island of the Vanuatu chain four days after leaving Nadi, Fiji. In that time, not one other ship had been sighted by the three world sailors. As a result, they'd taken advantage of their isolation to spend time with each other. Tracy had a theory that Port Vila was actually a respite from the many orgasms she or Celeste had enjoyed. Brandon, on the other hand, considered the stop-over to be a necessity if he was to continue his position as the male of the trio, one that demanded his full attention to the lustful wants and needs of his crew. With two women to satisfy, he found his strength weakening slowly but surely. Still, if he had to perish at the merciless hands of his sister and their mutual lover, there probably wasn't a more enjoyable way to go.

It had been just over six months since that fateful encounter at Shelter Bay that saw the conception of Tracy's baby, and with only a few exceptions, her pregnancy had been relatively uneventful. However, three days out of Port Vila, and while they were once again becalmed, her ease of carrying their son took a turn.

It was early in the morning that Tracy felt her stomach threaten to heave and divest itself of the previous evening's supper. Hastily, she slipped out of the berth and headed quickly for the upper deck's railing. Brandon was right behind her, hoping that he might be of some help to his sister. Laying a hand on her shoulder, all he could do was to be there for her as she vomited up her last meal.

"You going to be okay, Pip-squeak?" he had to find out as Tracy began to recover from the morning sickness.

"Yeah, I think so," she managed to answer. "Dammit, Babe. We've been through storms, high winds, choppy and rough seas, and they haven't bothered me one little bit. Now, here we are, becalmed on a glassy sea, and I get sick? What the hell's with that, anyway?"

"That's Mother Nature's way of reminding you that there's a new life in that belly of yours," Celeste's voice came from the cabin hatch.

"She could be a little more considerate, couldn't she?" Tracy growled out her displeasure. "That might be the one aspect of being pregnant that I could do without."

"At least you can get pregnant," her sister-in-law moaned with regret for her own state. "Not that I begrudge you for it, Sweetie, but it would be nice to be able to leave at least one child behind after I go."

"Angel," Brandon began to softly scold her, "you're a long way from dying, and as the old expression goes, it ain't over 'til it's over. I still think those doctors might have been wrong."

"Lover, after all the sperm you've left in me, if I was going to become pregnant, it would have happened by now," she reminded him, her tone just as firm as his, and just as quiet as the one she'd used with Tracy.

"It's not fair," Tracy expressed her inner feelings on the subject.

"Life's not always fair," Celeste said, her words bringing back the reality of her existence, "but it's all we have to work with, I guess. Anyway," she changed the direction of their conversation, "how are you feeling? Besides, nauseous?"

"Better," Tracy admitted. "But I thought this wouldn't happen after the second trimester, and so far, this is the first time I've had morning sickness. Wouldn't break my heart if it was the last, too."

"I could sure use some coffee," Celeste informed her shipmates. "Anyone else want some?"

Tracy accepted the offer, and so did her brother. Celeste made her way below, returning a little later with three full cups precariously balanced in one hand, then handed them out to the others. With the sun now several degrees above the horizon, its warmth permeated their bodies and induced a sense of laziness in all of them. Brandon helped his sister down to the deck, then joined her, followed by their lover. He allowed himself the luxury of mindless thought while the other two basked in the day's warmth.

"When we were back in Chicago," Tracy broke the silence, "I never thought I'd ever be in a place like this. Back there, it was always a fight for survival. But here, on the Gon Waki 2? Okay, maybe it's not exactly paradise, but it's a lot easier to take than life in Chicago."

"If we were still back there, I wonder what we'd be doing right now?" Brandon speculated.

"With my luck, I'd be in a hospital bed with bruises and broken bones," Celeste's cynicism came out. "But you're right, Sweetie. This time last year, if you'd told me how my life would unfold, I'd have thought you were on some kind of drugs." Leaning across Brandon's outstretched legs, she lightly kissed Tracy's cheek, then did the same for her Captain. "I owe you two my life, you know," she stated matter-of-factly. "Literally. The last time I was in the hospital, I fully expected to be dead within the year. But now? Now, I'm living in peace and serenity with two of the most wonderful people in the whole world."

A tear slowly escaped her eye, trickling down her cheek. Brandon wiped it carefully with one finger, then lifted Celeste's chin and gently kissed her lips. There were a million things he wanted to tell her, but the words just wouldn't come. They didn't need to, for his kiss had told her everything her heart already knew.

"I love you, too," she mumbled to him once they'd broken that kiss. "Both of you."

The beginning of a morning breeze ruffled her hair, alerting Brandon to the fact that they were about to get underway again. As much as he wanted to stay in the warmth of his lovers, the necessities of navigation took precedent.

They were another ten days getting to Port Moresby, the largest city of Papua New Guinea. Since they'd last taken on stores in Nadia, the pantry was beginning to empty rather quickly, mostly due to the advent of Tracy's unpredictable eating habits. Some days she would nibble constantly, while on others she wouldn't be able to keep anything down. As though trying to balance any lack of appetite, there were a few days when she became ravenous and ate everything in sight. As a result, Brandon and Celeste made several trips to the local markets of Port Moresby to replenish the larder.

"Do we have any idea where we're heading next?" Tracy enquired at the end of a particularly busy day.

"Getting antsy to leave civilization?" Brandon teased his sister.

"Well, now that you mention it – I am, kind of," she admitted, her face a little too long for Brandon's tastes. "I guess I've gotten used to being away from all that hustle and bustle. This might not be Chicago, but there's still a few too many people for me."

"So much for being a city girl any more," he continued to rib her. "Still dreaming of settling down on a deserted island?"

"It wouldn't hurt my feelings any if we did. How about you, Sis? Think you'd rather live in a big city?" she included Celeste in their conversation.

"I guess it would depend on the city," Celeste tried to answer the question posed to her. "But not back in Chicago, that's for sure. I have to admit that the isolation of the open sea is beginning to feel pretty damned good to me. Not that I don't enjoy putting into port every once in a while, but I wouldn't want to make a steady diet of it. That week on Oena still strikes me as being as close to paradise as I've ever been. How about you, Captain? Any regrets over leaving it all behind?"

"Not me," he confessed. "Out here, I get to feel again, to let myself enjoy the company I keep without having to go through the hassles of dealing with strangers. No, I guess I'm like Tracy. Living on this ship with all the love one man can handle is about as close to ideal as I could ever want. Maybe I was supposed to become a hermit in my old age?"

"A hermit with two lovers," Tracy snickered. "Somehow, I don't think that's what being a hermit is supposed to entail. And don't you go getting any ideas of leaving either one of us behind so you can run away to sea. I'll hunt you down if you do, and when I find you, I'll sic Celeste on you after I'm finished."

"I already ran away to sea," he pointed out to her, "and you girls are still with me. Maybe you're right, though. If it meant leaving you behind to become a hermit, I'd pass on that. Maybe I'll learn to become a recluse instead."

"A recluse with kids?" Celeste questioned his idea. "Somehow, I'm having a hard time visualizing that. How about we just keep on being a trio, loving each other, and raising at least one child?"

"Are you telling me that you're not interested in motherhood?" Brandon challenged her.

"Don't go there, Babe," Tracy warned him, even as Celeste stared him down with her disapproval of the subject.

"I was just asking," he sounded out timidly, knowing full well that he'd accidentally crossed a line – one of many, it seemed.

The discussion turned back to the original question of where they'd head after leaving Port Moresby. Tracy was curious about the west coast of Papua New Guinea until her brother pointed out the possibility of running into pirates. Sailing up the east coast would give them the advantage of several ports to put in to, should the need arise. His point was quickly seconded by both women. The next morning, the Gon Waki 2 tacked out of Port Moresby harbour, backtracking towards the southeast point of the island. Once clear of the point, the little ship headed northwest towards the city of Lae. It was Brandon's intention to take on as much fuel as the tanks would hold before tackling the passage from the Solomon Sea to the Bismark Sea. He didn't anticipate any real problems on their way to Jayapura, Indonesia. Exploring the waters between there and Manokari, Indonesia had an unexplainable fascination for him, probably fuelled by the many intriguing pictures of the area they found on the Internet. Neither of the two women could find a reason to object, especially as that would be their departure point for the journey over the equator and on to the Philippines.

Their explorations between Jayapura and Manokari extended across a period of five weeks, with short forays into the dense jungle whenever the opportunity arose. On the advice of an old native while they were in Jayapura, Brandon kept a sharp eye open for pirates, and although there were many small flotillas that they encountered, not one of them posed a threat. For that blessing, he was truly thankful. The idea of him and his crew being captured and possibly enslaved left a queasiness in his stomach. Doing his best to hide his concerns, the Captain mustered all his energies to keep the women feeling calm and protected. His strategies must have worked, for neither Tracy nor Celeste were in any hurry to leave the area and head towards the Philippines. But the prospects of giving birth while on the high seas finally convinced Tracy that it was time to head north, over the equator, and on to Davao.

The time spent in the islands of Teluk Cendrawasih had necessitated extensive use of the little Yanmar diesel, with the result that their fuel supply would need replenishing in Manokari. Unfortunately, because of some undefined local labour dispute, Brandon couldn't take on much more than twenty gallons. With the remaining reserves they had, he hoped that thirty gallons would be enough to see them into Davao harbour. The normal strength of the Trade Winds, he believed, would be enough that they could make most of the distance under sail. However, overcoming the current as they left Manokari used up most of that reserve. Still, twenty gallons should take them as far as they needed to go under engine power.

They were a little over a day north of Manokari when the Trade Winds, usually a strong westward flow, petered out. From previous experiences whenever becalmed, the trio took this inconvenience in their stride, relaxing on deck, yet maintaining a watchful eye for other large vessels that might ply the Indonesian waters. Initially, Brandon had expected the winds to return before the end of the day, and had set the sea anchor in hopes that the currents would move them out of the doldrums and into more active winds.

"Are you sure we're not back in the Galapagos?" Tracy voiced her impatience. "How long have we been becalmed? Three days?"

"Relax, Sweetie," Celeste tried to calm her down. "If our Captain's theory is correct, that force that runs the universe has a plan, and us sitting here like bumps on a cedar log is probably part of it.

"Look who's changed her tune since we had that discussion," Brandon observed.

"That was me that wasn't happy about an unknown running my life," Tracy corrected him. "But you're right, Sis. There's no sense getting upset because the world isn't running the way I have in mind. It would be nice to get moving again, though. I really don't want to have the baby in the middle of the Pacific if I can help it."

"We still have five weeks to go before he's born," Brandon mentally calculated his sister's due date. "I just wish I knew where we are, exactly. I couldn't get a satellite signal for the GPS this morning, and we haven't been keeping up to date with the sextant and charts. Pretty poor navigating on my part. No sense crying over spilt milk, though, is there?"

"Speaking of milk, I hope I can produce enough to keep our son fed," Tracy returned to the questions she had regarding her pending motherhood. "What if I can't?"

"You're creating a problem where one doesn't exist yet," Celeste chastised her. "Didn't we go through this in Panama?"

"How about you two girls stop fighting and enjoy the peace and quiet?" Brandon tried to shush his lovers. "Call it the calm before the storm, but I'm finding this little break to be just what the doctor ordered. We'll be underway soon enough."

Celeste rolled over from the position on her back she'd assumed, curling up against Brandon's side before stretching up to kiss his lips. She'd initially meant to make it a chaste and gentle kiss to remind him that both women wouldn't trade one minute of the adventures they'd shared. But the flavour of his lips ignited a lustful spot inside her, and she found it impossible to break their contact.

"I think someone's underway already," Tracy giggled, hoping to hide the jealousy that threatened to rear its ugly head inside her. "Don't wear him out, Sis. Our son needs a Daddy, don't forget."

Brandon eased himself away from Celeste's hungry lips, then turned to his sister and shared what he'd received from their shipmate. Celeste took his desertion in stride, nibbling on Brandon's ear instead while lightly running her finger over his exposed nipple. Despite the tight lock Tracy had on his lips and the duel their tongues were in, he couldn't stifle those moans of delighted pleasure his crew administered.

"I could get quite used to this," he shared his thoughts as they all came up for air.

"I already am," Celeste admitted, "but God help you if it's ever taken away from me. I mean, here we are, adrift in the South Pacific, and I doubt any of us are in a hurry to get moving again. Maybe we should renamed the ship to the Paradise and consider our search over. Can either of you think of a more idyllic way to live?"

"Not me," Tracy agreed with her sister-in-law's description.

"I can," Brandon contradicted the two women. "Somewhere that has this kind of weather without the hassles of worrying about wind, currents, and needing to know just where in the hell we are. Maybe some medical facilities in case we need them. But you're right, Angel. This is as close to perfect as I've ever been in my whole life."

"You've got that idea of a deserted island in your head again, don't you?" Tracy accused her brother.

"With the way he describes it," Celeste answered before Brandon could, "it's starting to sound pretty good to me, too. If nothing else, it might be a good place to raise that little terror in your belly. I still have my doubts about child rearing on a forty-three foot boat."

"There is that," Brandon conceded to his lover's concerns. "I still think the idea of having our own little island has a lot of merit to it, though. And if we ever get out of these doldrums, we can find somewhere that has the facilities we'll need, but on a different island. I never had being a tramp freight ship in mind for the Gon Waki 2, although setting up that kind of an enterprise would let us meet the locals."

"Do we still have the money to keep going?" Tracy asked of her one fear, that of being unable to interact in the world of commerce.

"Not too many material things we either need or can't pick up in our travels, Sis," her brother reassured her. "As long as we keep in contact with the banks so they don't call our accounts dormant, money won't be a problem."

"You've been looking at the books again, haven't you?" Celeste accused him, reminded that the necessity of monetary resources still existed, even if they were no longer as important as they'd been in days gone by.

"We've had more come in that we've spent," Brandon summed up the results of their bank accounts, "and you girl's accounts are growing nicely."

"If we ever decide to return to civilization," Tracy expressed her impressions, "all that money might be useful. But where in the hell are we going to go shopping out here?"

"It's a funny thing about money," Celeste added. "When you need it, you never have any, and when you have lots, you don't really need it, do you?"

"I guess that's one of the ironies of life, Angel," Brandon put his own reactions to his crew members. "What I've found on this voyage is that there are aspects of life that are so much more important than material things."

"Like what?" his sister asked, not really needing an answer, especially as their baby had just decided it was time for soccer practise. "Stop it, Junior," she murmured to the growing life in her belly. "Mommy's trying to relax and enjoy her time with your Daddy."

Brandon smiled at the happy thoughts of his pending fatherhood, rolling over and sliding down to his sister's protruding stomach, planting several warm kisses of love, both for her and for his unborn offspring. As he did, Celeste wrapped an arm around his chest, becoming a solid member of their trio.

"Sometimes, Sweetie," she teased her sister-in-law, "you can come up with the most unusual ideas. That baby means more to all of us than all the money in the world. He really is a miracle, isn't he?"

"So's being with the two people I love the most," Tracy amended. "We're good together, all fur of us."

"Make that five," Brandon interrupted his enjoyment of the closeness he shared with his sister.

"Five?" she questioned.

"You, Celeste, me, this baby, and the one that Celeste's going to have," he clarified.

"Me?" his lover squeaked out. "I'm not pregnant."

"Not yet," he supplied, a twinkle of merriment in his eye that neither woman could miss. "I still say the doctors were wrong."