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.