Chapter 9: Panama Adventures (Part 1)

There was an annoying thumping on the aft deck of the Gon Waki 2 that invaded Brandon's sleep, although investigating would require getting out of bed. That was not something he was keen to do, considering the warmth afforded by two soft, smooth-skinned, and very comfortable women that shared it with him. But their ordeal of the previous week had made him feel very protective of his crew, and if that noise was any indication, a potential threat just might exist.

Now awake, if not alert, Brandon slipped down and off the foot of the berth, trying his best not to disturb his two crew member's slumber as he started for the stateroom door. Remembering at the last minute that this was not a "clothing-optional" locale, he reached for a robe hanging on the back of the door, put it on and tied the belt, then stepped into the cabin's lounge.

Whatever had made those noises that had woken him seemed to be moving along the outside edge of the cabin, and a quick glance out the small window above the galley revealed two very large and muscular legs that implied their owner to be fairly heavy set. Not feeling like making it an even scrap, Brandon grabbed the first thing that came to hand that might serve as a weapon of some sort. What he had latched on to was a cast-iron frying pan, and its heft felt good in his grip.

Slowly easing the hatch lid back, he crept out of the cabin and onto the aft deck, turned, and found himself staring at the frightened face of Juan Mendoza, the marina manager.

"Pleeze, Senor!" he begged for mercy. "I am but a poor man with no money! Pleeze, do not keel me!"

Brandon immediately put the frying pan down to his side, then extended a friendly hand as a peace offering. With heart-felt apologizes, and the offer of fresh coffee as soon as it was ready, the two came to a quick agreement of truce. Juan explained that he had been told by Peter Johansson that the Gon Waki 2 required repairs. He was there merely to assess what needed doing, and to get an idea of the materials required.

"Eet eeze getting to your mast dat's de hard part," the thick Mexican accent confided in the ship's master. "Eet is too tiny to take de weight of a full-grown man. I must find some way to get to where you need repairs. But I have good idea of what you need. I look for materials today, and maybe we fix tomorrow. Eeze okay?"

Brandon couldn't help but laugh at the Mexican's eagerness, slapping him on the back as a friendly gesture, then heading below to fetch two cups of coffee.

"Will you have to pull her out of the water to get at that mast, or is there some other way?" he interrogated the marina manager.

"Maybe we borrow man-bucket, and use dat. Otherwise, we might be able to move boat near to pier, den make bridge from dock to mast out of old gangway. I get materials, do measure, and we decide. That be easiest way," the man suggested a workable plan.

"Let me finish waking up, Juan, and I'll meet you at the marina office later this morning. You can show me what has to be done, but I leave it to you, my friend. And again, I apologize for scaring you like that."

The two left on friendly terms, unlike the ones they'd first met under. By the time they'd parted, Tracy was just getting up. The sight of her scantily-clad body sent thrills through her brother.

"Morning, Pip-squeak," he greeted her. " I didn't wake you with all that stomping up there, did I?"

"Umm, I heard voices, and I got up to see what was going on. Who were you talking to?"

"Juan Mendoza, the marina manager. He's going to try and fix that antenna mount for us tomorrow. Says we may have to move the boat over to the boatyard, but that should be easy. Oh, coffee's ready, if you are."

"Sounds great. Let me get dressed, then I'll meet you topside. Celeste's still sleeping, and I think we should leave her to it. She got a good work out last night."

"She got a workout? What about your poor brother? Lord, when you girls get amorous, you don't fool around, do you?" Brandon teased her right back.

"Be quiet, Babe. You loved it, and you know it. Besides, you weren't exactly cool, calm, and collected yourself. I think my poor pussy's still on fire. But Gawd, I love it when you two do me like that!"

The siblings relaxed on the deck, taking in the sun and blue skies, and generally having a good look at the other craft around them. One in particular grabbed Brandon's attention, as the stern markings said it was registered in Panama City, Florida, and looked like a sister ship of the Gon Waki 2, except that it was a little shorter. He estimated it at thirty-eight or thirty-nine feet.

"They stole our name," he remarked to his sister.

"Who did?"

"That boat over there. They named it the Luv Boat. Sometimes, I think that's what we should have called this one."

"More like the Sex Pen, I think," Tracy giggled, "especially after last night."

"Wicked woman!" he branded her, then exchanged a slow and loving kiss.

An hour later, Celeste made her way up on deck to join them, but had put on a sweater to fight the effects of her recuperation. When she started to shiver, Brandon immediately went below and brought her a lined windbreaker, offering to go back for a blanket if she wanted one.

"I'm just a little dizzy, that's all," she made her excuses. "Let me warm up in the sun, and I'll be fine."

"You sure, Angel? That was one hell of a bump on the head you got, and I'm still worried about a concussion. That storm proved that it takes all three of us to keep this ship afloat."

"Sure you do!" she growled. "I was about as useless as a dick up a donkey's ass, and you still managed to keep her right-side up, so don't give me that crap. You could run this ship with two people any day of the week!"

"Maybe, but it's a lot less work with three, and you know it. If we ever have to go back to those four-hour watches, we need two bodies every watch."

"Sure you do!" she repeated. "Listen, if you hadn't insisted on that damned safety line, I would have been fine!"

"Angel, if I hadn't insisted on that line, you could have been overboard, and in that storm we'd never have found you. You scared the crap out of me that night. Promise me you'll never do that to me again? Please?"

"I've already promised myself that," she let her Captain know. "That bloody-well hurt! I can do without the headache, thank you very much. And now it's getting itchy too."

"I think that means it's healing," he supplied.

"So are we really staying here for two weeks?" Tracy changed the topic.

"I'll have to talk to Peter, but I was thinking that if we went through the canal next week, we'd have a shot at snooping around in Panama City. The main airport is down there, so maybe we could pick up the new sail when it arrives and go from there."

"I don't know," Celeste started to answer. "This place is quiet, and we get to stay on the ship while we're here. No masses of people barging in on us – with some small exceptions, like this morning. I'm kind of enjoying myself here."

"Do you have any idea how much it'll cost to go through the canal?" Tracy wanted to find out.

"Not a clue, Sis. I'll talk to Juan and see what he has to say. It doesn't really matter anyway. Either we pay the fee or this trip ends here. I've already figured out that backtracking to go around the Cape will put us in the South Atlantic during winter storm season. I don't know about you girls, but I think I've had enough storms for a while."

"You're the Captain," Celeste reminded him. "You lead, we follow. Isn't that how it's supposed to work?"

"Maybe when it comes to running the ship, but not when it comes to being a – what are we? A trio? A triad? A triangle?"

"Three people in love with each other," Tracy stated. "That's about as complicated as we need to make it. All I know is that whatever we are, it works, and very well, thank you."

"Whatever," he gave up looking for the correct term. "All I know is that when it come to the three of us, we decide by consensus. I don't mind having to pull rank when we're underway, but not down below, and definitely not in the stateroom!"

"You couldn't do it anyway," Tracy snickered. "You're outnumbered when we're down below. We'd mutiny if you did."

"Even if it meant thirty lashes?" he teased.

"Especially if it meant thirty lashes," Celeste let him know, with that mischievous twinkle in her eye.

That afternoon, they took another long walk around the hotel gardens, awed by the vibrant flowers and thrilled by the sight of wild and colourful birds. Whenever she found the need to rest, the others sat quietly with Celeste, enjoying her company while letting the bond between the three of them strengthen. That evening, they dined on Mahi-Mahi, fresh salad from the hotel's groceteria, and a sparkling white wine that Brandon had found while shopping for food. After supper, the night sky blazed with a million stars, while the moon cast flickering fingers of light over the waves of Manzanillo Bay.

Brandon was exhausted by the time they made it into bed, but wondered if the two women were feeling amorous towards each other. While there were lots of kisses exchanged, both seemed quite content to curl up on his chest and enjoy the closeness. In no time at all, the three were lost in the land of dreams.

The chronometer in the main cabin read eight o'clock as Brandon stumbled out of bed the next morning on his way to the head. As much as he'd rather have returned to the comfort of their berth afterwards, there was the matter of the antenna mount's repair to be taken care of that morning, and he started the coffee perking instead. It must have been the enticing aroma that revived Tracy, for she joined her brother not that many minutes later.

"How's our Angel this morning?" he voiced his concerns for their crew-mate.

"Sleeping like a log. I don't think she moved all night, did she?"

"Not that I was aware of. I'm just hoping that all this sleep is helping her recover and heal. I worry about her, Sis. She got one hell of a nasty injury when she cracked her head open. I'm amazed that she came out of it with as little damage as she did," he expressed his feelings.

Tracy took the time to intently study her brother, to the point that he began to feel a little uncomfortable from the scrutiny.

"Okay, I give up," he finally reacted. "What's going through that pretty little head of yours, Pip-squeak?"

It was a few moments later before she answered his enquiry.

"You've changed over the last year," she summed up her conclusions.

"I have? How?"

"Do you realize that you just told me how you feel inside? That's something that you would have hidden before. I'm seeing a part of you that I could never get to when we were kids. It's ... maybe, if we'd been able to connect like this, back then, we'd be even closer. All I know is that you're the brother that I always prayed you'd become, and that I fell in love with when I was a girl."

"You and Celeste have that effect on me, I guess. You're both so easy to be open around. But maybe you're right. I wanted to be a part of your life again, so bad, and this seemed like the only way I could get myself from where I was to where I wanted to be. Thank you, Pip-squeak," he started to tell her, then stopped as his lips met her cheek before he finished, "for showing me the way."

To emphasize his gratitude, he took her in his arms and held her to his chest, then kissed the crown of her head. Tracy folded into his embrace, wanting to stay there until all the stars in the sky went out, one by one. But there was a world outside that they had to deal with, starting with the yacht's repairs, and the two reluctantly eased out of that clutch of intimacy. Brandon poured two cups of coffee, then invited his sister to join him on deck.

The skies were cloudy, and there was a threat of rain in the air, but despite that, the tropical humidity wasn't overly heavy, and didn't stifle their energies as it usually did. If it started to rain, they'd be under the protection of the Bimini top, leaving them the freedom of freshly-scrubbed, clean air to enjoy. Sure enough, half an hour later, they watched the downpour as it washed the marina clean of any residual dust and dirt.

Celeste came up to join them just as the torrential rains slowed their assault, sharing an intimate morning greeting with her two lovers.

"Gawd, what a racket! I thought we were in the middle of a hail storm! How long have you two been up?" she talked her way into the morning.

"Not long. Maybe an hour?" he brought her up to date. "I have to get hold of Juan Mendoza, the manager, and see if he can do something with that mount today. Maybe we should see about heading into Colon while he's working on the 'Old Girl'. I'd like to find out how much it's going to cost us to get through the canal. You up to playing tourist, Angel?"

"I'm not going anywhere until I get at least two of these into me," indicating the cup in her hand. "I must have slept a good ten hours and feel like I could use a few more. Why am I so damned tired?"

"Probably a combination of the tropical climate and that bump on the head you got," Tracy gave her opinion. "Brandon's still worried about you having a concussion. Maybe we should take you into the hospital again, just to make sure."

"I hate hospitals!" she countered, becoming quite adamant in her stance.

"They're not way up on my list of fun places to be, either," Brandon agreed, "but if that's what it takes to get you back on your feet, then that's what we do. Humour me, Angel. I'd rather be safe than sorry."

The rest of their morning was spent making arrangements with the marina's boatyard, moving the Gon Waki 2 to where Juan could get to the mast, then climbing onto the hotel's shuttle bus for the ride to Colon. Because of the way the hotel was situated in relation to the city, their route took them west towards the old Spanish fort, south across the canal waterway, and back up to the seaport itself.

Most of that day was spent snooping through various small shops, along with a trip to the hospital, where they found Celeste hadn't suffered any real, extensive head damage, then over to the Port Authority offices. There, they were told that fees for the canal's transit would be about fourteen hundred dollars, plus local taxes. Both women winced at the numbers, and were reminded by their Captain that there weren't too many alternatives.

"That's a lot of money," Tracy argued. "Maybe we should have gone the other way, and to hell with the winter storms. After replacing the spinnaker, getting the radar fixed, that hotel room, and whatever moorage is costing us, we're looking at several thousand dollars. Are we going to run out of money before we get to the other side of the canal?"

"Sis, you're supposed to let me worry about the money side of things, and you get to look after the 'getting-your-big-brother-to-feel-again' side of it. From what my little sister tells me, she's doing a great job. Now, it's my turn. Remember any of that?" he restated their objectives. "And if it makes you feel any better, no, we're not running out of money. Besides, when we get out the other side, we won't be spending a hell of a lot while we're out on the ocean again. So whatever this costs us, we'll make up for it. Just stop worrying, would you? And that goes for you, too, Angel."

"Lover," Celeste took up the argument, "the amount you've spent on us over the last three weeks has to be almost fifteen thousand dollars! Do you realize how long that would have carried us, back in Chicago?"

"This isn't Chicago, and it wasn't much of a life back there anyway," he argued back. "If you really want to find out how long it would last, though, we could always sell the boat and fly back. Is that what you want?"

"Don't be an asshole!" she snarled. "You know what I mean. I feel guilty for spending all your money like this, and I think Tracy does, too. It's not fair to you, either. You were the one that worked your ass off, not us."

"And you two are the ones that make me feel alive again. If it costs me a few thousand dollars to see you two safe and happy, it's a pretty small price to pay. Besides, I hadn't planned on taking all that money with me when I die. Come to think of it, I've never seen a hearse with a U-haul behind it, and I don't intend to be the first to have one. So let's stop arguing over money, enjoy what we have, and let the world unfold the way it's supposed to. Okay?"

"You're sure? About the money, I mean?" Celeste still couldn't comprehend the dollar amounts.

"I'm sure, Angel. And if it makes you feel any better, today was payday. There's more than enough in the account to cover us. What I should be doing is calling the bank in Chicago and having them set you two up with small, personal accounts so you have some spending money if you need it. Maybe that'll be my project for tomorrow."

"I'm starting to feel like a kept woman," Celeste complained. "That's not what I want, either. I lived like that before, and it sucked. So how about you keep your money and we stay the way we are now? I didn't come on this trip just to be a concubine!'

"Sis, stop it!" Tracy demanded of her sister-in-law. "What we have together is special and precious. Don't cheapen it with talk about money. If my brother says that he has what we need to stay together, then that's good enough for me. It's who he is that keeps me with him, not what he has. And that's true for you, too. I know you."

The argument had put a damper on their day, yet the tensions eased off as they toured Colon, and by the time they caught the bus back to Shelter Bay, it was forgotten. Still, the amounts nagged at Celeste's conscience. She was tactful enough to leave it alone until they got back, but couldn't abandon it completely.

"Brandon, would you be offended if I asked to be with just Tracy tonight for a while?" Celeste pleaded, once they were back at the marina. "I need to be with her until I get my head around all this financial crap. You're throwing numbers out that I can't understand, let alone relate to, and she's the one that can help me get past it all."

"If that's what you need, Angel, then go ahead. Do I get to join you later?"

"You'd better, because while we could probably make love without you, neither one of us wants to. I just need to be so very close to her right now. But I do love you, in spite of all I've learned today, and I need you. It's just that tonight, I need her more. Isn't that part of what this relationship is all about? Taking what we need so we can give what we have to each other?"

"Yeah, it is," he began to understand how she felt inside. "Just don't shut me out, okay? I need you, too, Celeste. It's funny, though. I never thought I'd be in this position, wanting two women, needing them, and constantly doing whatever I can to make them happy. Am I succeeding?"

"More than you realize, my Love," she tried to reassure him. "Much more than you may ever understand. Like Tracy said, it's who you are that I'm in love with, not what you have. I just need this evening to get the two ideas back to where they belong, that's all. Can you give me that?"

"That, and anything else you need, my Angel", and he kissed her lips softly to make his point more emphatic.

They enjoyed their evening meal together, and afterwards Celeste and Tracy retired to the stateroom, leaving Brandon on deck to contemplate the state of their affair. He noted his sister glancing over her shoulder as the two women headed below, that concern for her brother quite evident in her eyes. There was a definite reluctance to exclude the one man she felt so close to, yet her need for her sister-in-law was just as strong.

Brandon took the time alone to roll the memories of their times together around in his head. A feeling of insecurity came out quickly, but as the time passed, he rationalized his fears to the point where they almost disappeared. It was when Celeste and Tracy reappeared that he finally put them to rest for good.

"Feel better, Angel?" he asked, the concern for her welfare strong and real.

"Much," she shared with him. "Thank you for letting me have what I needed. Most men would have been jealous and wouldn't have let me go. I'm not saying that you weren't, but you did let go enough that I could find what I'd lost. For that alone, I love you a little more now than I did after supper. So how about you get your cute little ass down below so I can show you?"

Three hours later, Celeste, Tracy, and Brandon lay in each other's arms, exhausted and satiated, and as much in love as they'd ever been in their whole lives, both before this voyage and during it. Whatever fears or worries any of them had before, they were a distant memory now.

After the events of the previous day, Brandon slept in the next morning, and woke to the aroma of fresh coffee, and what smelled like a gourmet meal being prepared for his olfactory benefit. He was treated to eggs, bacon, toast, and pan-fried potatoes, coffee, and regal service from both women. Only when his stomach was stuffed did they allow him to escape from their overindulgence.

"I think I owe Juan a big 'thank you' for all the work he did yesterday. I haven't even inspected it yet, but he must have completed the job or the ship wouldn't be back in its slip, would it?" he observed.

"That's my fault," Celeste begged for forgiveness. "I was being so damned selfish yesterday that I never even considered what he must have done. Gawd, I can be such a bitch, sometimes!'

"Really? That's a side of you that I've never seen," Brandon forgave her oversight. "How long before I get nailed when you get that angry?" he teased her.

"In about two seconds if you don't kiss me quick. And don't slobber, either," she gave as good as she got.

"Does this mean I have to take a number for faster service?" Tracy joined in their playful exchange. Within minutes, any disparaging animosity that had ever existed on the little ship was thoroughly dispatched overboard, and the three let the glow of their closeness embrace them.

Once he'd pried himself from the two amorous women, Brandon had a good look at the new mount that Juan had fabricated and installed, then made his way up to the marina office to express his gratitude and settle the bill. When he was quoted an amount that seemed entirely too small, there were negotiations to a value that the Gon Waki 2's Captain felt more appropriate. And afterwards, he went on to the subject of transiting the Panama Canal, including the fees.

"Senor, beeg problem is not cost, but size. Leetle ships get low priority. Eef you go through wif others, cost ees smaller, and they take you sooner. Ees big boats dat go first," Juan explained.

"So how do we find others that are making the trip at the same time as us?" Brandon asked.

"I take care of, Senor," Juan promised. "Maybe two, three days? I find two or three others for you? Then you make own arrangements, no?"

"Si, my friend. If you can do that, I'll make it worth your while, I promise," Brandon smiled at the Mexican's willingness to please.

"You do dat already, Senor," Juan referred to the bonus he'd been paid for the repairs. "Dis, I do for good friend, gratis. My pleasure."

The three were lounging on the aft deck that evening when a man of about twenty-eight approached the Gon Waki 2 with a very attractive woman in tow. holding her hand in an intimate grip, their fingers intertwined as only committed couple do.

"Umm, I'm looking for a Brandon Winters," the man announced. "I was told that he's looking for someone to go through the canal with him."

"That would be me," Brandon admitted. "What can I do for you?"

"My name's Jackson Trethewey, and this is my ... my wife, Belinda. The marina manager mentioned the idea of travelling together to cut down on the cost, and we thought we'd come and talk to you. We may be interested in your idea."

Brandon noted the hesitation in Jackson's introduction of the young woman, and wondered why that gap had occurred. But he also realized that the reasons were the other man's business, and only if an explanation was offered would Brandon pursue his curiosity.

"Welcome aboard the Gon Waki 2, Mr. Trethewey. Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"

Jackson Trethewey accepted the invitation, helping his companion over the threshold as they found themselves seats, then suggested something non-alcoholic for a beverage. During the ensuing time, Brandon introduced his sister and their lover.

"The way it was explained to me," Jackson began, "is that a small flotilla will get a higher priority through the locks, and the fees get split equally across the boats involved. Apparently we'd be splitting seventeen hundred dollars, which is a lot less than what they want for just one ship. So if you're interested, we'd like to go through with you."

"Sounds good to me," Brandon responded. "When I talked to Juan, he seemed to think that four of us would work the best, and if your numbers are close, that works out to four-and-a-quarter each, right? I'm not worried about the money, but getting a higher priority from the pilots is a definite incentive. So far, you're the first to talk to us. If Juan finds two more people, we'll be in good shape. But even if he doesn't, two boats are better than one, so's to speak. How soon did you have in mind, Mr. Trethewey?"

"Please, call me Jack," Brandon was corrected. "We'd hoped to be through the canal by the end of the week, or the beginning of next. Does that fit in with your schedule?"

"We're waiting on a new spinnaker to arrive from the States, but we can wait for it in Panama City just as easily as here. It's finding moorage down there that could be a stumbling block, but nothing that can't be overcome or accommodated. Today's Tuesday. Let's see who else is interested, then go from there."

The five new acquaintances got to know each other a little better over the next half hour, and were joined by another couple, Joe and Shannon Blackwell, who were also interested in the idea. Again, Brandon offered drinks, and the flow of conversation between the seven developed into a budding friendship. By the time the evening was over, they'd decided that Sunday would be a good day to aim for, and agreed to the terms offered.

"Now all we have to do is see if there's a fourth for our little journey," Brandon closed off the evening. "Good grief, this sounds like a bridge tournament, doesn't it?" he joked, rewarded with happy smiles from their guests.

Belinda Trethewey suggested that they share breakfast on their boat the next morning, letting everyone know that they'd be looking for the Luv Boat, the one that had struck Brandon as a smaller version of the Gon Waki 2, and he mentioned that he'd considered a similar name for their own yacht.

"She's a gorgeous boat," Jackson confessed, "but unfortunately, she's not ours. We're just transporting her from Florida to San Diego. That's how we make our living."

"Gawd, I wish we'd had the guts to do that when we were younger," Joe passed on his admiration and envy. "Instead, I worked my ass off to buy the Wanderlust, and now we can't afford to live off her. Mind you, it could be worse. We could be living in a trailer somewhere in the Everglades, I suppose. Actually, it probably wouldn't matter where we lived, as long as Shannon's there with me." The glow of love between the older couple almost lit the night sky with its warmth and honesty, and Brandon felt a similar soft spot for his sister and their lover. Even Jackson and Belinda allowed themselves to get caught up in a similarly intimate reaction.

"I like that younger couple," Tracy passed on her reaction, once the evening had ended. "He's obviously in love with her, and she seems to be completely devoted to him. Do you know that she never let go of his hand once, from the time they came on board until they left?'

"Sounds like someone else I know and love," Brandon added. "I noticed that he hesitated when he introduced her as his wife, though. Wonder what that was all about? I mean, if they were living together, that wouldn't be a reason, would it?"

"Never noticed that before, but now that you mention it, you're right. He did hesitate," Celeste concurred. "It's none of our business, though. Besides, we have our own little secrets to keep, so let's just let them have theirs."

Nine o'clock the next morning found the three standing on the dock beside the Luv Boat's berth and being greeted by the sounds of two people locked in passion. Not wanting to disturb the young couple, they waited until someone came up on deck.

"Good morning," Brandon greeted the Tretheweys. "We're not too early, are we?"

Belinda blushed furiously, while Jackson invited them aboard. Belinda scurried below, returning soon after with coffee and fresh sweet rolls. They sat and re-established the camaraderie of the previous evening, eventually joined by the Blackwells, who brought an even stronger feeling of friendship with them.