Copyright� 2007 by Quantum Mechanic
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Reconciliation.
I watched as they slowly lowered the coffin into the grave, tears streaming down my face. I was glad that I wore the veil; no one else could see how much I hurt. Daddy, why did you leave me? He'd always been there for me, strong and resilient. Always ready with a hug, an encouraging word, and often the perfect solution to whatever problem was plaguing me.
I didn't wear any eye makeup either, and that was good, because the mascara would have run down my face, a dead giveaway of how sorry I was for myself. With no brothers, it fell to me, as the oldest daughter, to execute the family tradition... to be the first crush a carnation over the casket. God! I don't think I can do this! At least it wasn't raining. That was a constant hazard in the spring.
Pearl stood at the head of the grave, waiting for me to do my duty. It felt out of place, inappropriate for her to be standing there where Mom would be, were she alive. We never were great friends, Pearl and I. I suppose I had been somewhat resentful. It seemed to me that she had filled in behind Mom so easily, displacing her memory in my dad's heart. She had never been unkind to me, though, or to my sisters; and maybe it wasn't a coincidence that Dad rejoined the living when she came along.
I walked to the grave, and crushed my carnation, letting the petals fall on the casket, and I turned to join Pearl at the head of the grave. My sisters followed me, filing by the grave, dropping their petals into that abyss that would soon swallow my father's mortal remains. They and their husbands stopped to give and collect embraces, before leaving to resume their own lives.
Dad had few friends, but those that lived were here to wish him farewell. Most of the people attending were relatives, my friends, and my sisters' friends. Each one stopped to say a few words of sympathy and encouragement, and to offer help if needed. Good people. Would my children get as much support if it were me, instead of my Dad in that grave? I couldn't say.
The last of the mourners had gone, and the interment crew was waiting for Pearl and me to leave, so that they could finish their work. I turned to her, and saw the pain of loss in her face. It's the second time for her. I should be more sympathetic. We reached for each other simultaneously, hugging and crying out our mutual misery.
When we were both regained some equilibrium, she stood back slightly and said, "Carol, would you please come over to the house? I have something that your Dad asked me to give to you."
"What is it?" I asked, surprised.
"All I can tell you is that it's a sealed envelope. He made me promise, on the direst of oaths, that I wouldn't open it. I have no idea what's inside."
Curious, I nodded my agreement and declared, "I'll have to clear it with Karl, but I'm sure it'll be okay."
"One more thing," Pearl said. "He asked that you open it alone. No witnesses."
"That might be more difficult. If I send Karl and the kids to get ice cream, could I get a ride with you?"
Pearl nodded her assent, so I walked to the car where my husband and children waited. Karl and I had had another big fight on the way to the cemetery, and he'd stayed in the car, sulking, through the entire ceremony. The kids had had enough of the funeral at the chapel, and didn't really feel like standing around an open grave for half an hour.
"Karl, I need to make sure that Pearl is going to be all right. How about taking Kelly and Abigail to the DQ for awhile? You can pick me up at Dad's place afterwards."
My contentious offspring looked pleased with this turn of events, but Karl just got grumpier. He didn't fight it, however. He just started the car and drove away. I turned away and went to join Pearl in her car.
When we arrived at her place... Dad's place!... she indicated that I should follow her into Dad's study. She extracted a large, sealed brown envelope from the desk that dominated the room, and handed it to me.
"If you want, you can open it here," she said. "I'll leave, so you can have some privacy. Take as long as you need." With that, Pearl turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.
I sat in Dad's office chair, and opened the envelope. Inside I found another envelope, also sealed, and a letter. I started to read.
Dearest Carol:
I know that this might seem odd to you, but I assure you that it is necessary.
I'm leaving Undine to you. Of my children, only you ever showed an interest in her. It was never in the cards for Pearl to own her. I've already told her, so you needn't worry about her being unpleasantly surprised.
In the other envelope, you'll find the title and all the keys. You'll observe that title is already in your name. I made the transfer as a gift, so that there wouldn't be any questions about it.
There is a secret drawer under Undine's nav station. It's not hard to open, but it's not obvious either. Once aboard, look in there, and you'll find my log book. You must find it and read it alone, at least the first time. After that you can decide for yourself who should be allowed to see it, and when.
Please destroy this note, or you'll run the risk of someone else finding the log before you can. I love you with all my heart.
Dad.
I re-folded the note, and slipped it back into the large envelope, then I opened the other envelope and examined the title. Sure enough, it listed my name as the owner, as of just a little more than a year ago. I wonder how the others are going to take this... We hadn't yet read the will, and Dad didn't own much outside the boat.
That wasn't my problem, though. Undine was mine, and everyone would just have to deal with it. The more I thought about it, the more pleased I was with that outcome. I loved Dad, and this was a way I could keep his memory alive for me and for my children.
Maybe they'll come to love her as I do... I put the title and its envelope back into the large envelope, and stowed it in my handbag. By the time Karl and the children arrived to collect me, I had a plan.
"Have you lost your mind?" Karl demanded. "I can't just arbitrarily decide to take a vacation. The timing just isn't good. We have three new major design contracts, and we're behind on the work we already had. If I try to cop out now, the other partners will hand me my head!"
"That is just so much crap!" I spat back. "Except for the funeral, you haven't taken a day off in five years! You're a stranger to your children, you never sit down to a meal with us, and we hardly ever go to bed at the same time. It's been weeks since you even woke me up for sex! Is your work more important to you than your family?"
"That's not fair," he protested. "I work hard, just so you and the kids can have a decent lifestyle. Whether I enjoy my work has never counted, just whether it improved our financial and social position."
"You just don't get it, do you?" I yelled. "It's been years since we had a money problem, and I don't care about social position. Your family needs you, not just your income! I need you too! Not just a money tree."
"You want more than I have left to give," he protested, "all these years of work have left me zero energy to deal with your emotional crises." He stopped and picked up his coat.
"If you walk out that door tonight," I threatened, "don't bother coming back. This won't be your home anymore."
He threw the coat down and held out both hands, palms up. "What do you want from me? I love you, but I just can't seem to satisfy you!" he shouted angrily.
I told him. He balked. He protested. He complained. But in the end, he gave in.
"I can't believe this!" Kelly exclaimed. "You want to ruin my social life, just to spend my entire summer with a bunch of people who could really care less if I lived or died. No thanks!"
"Two things," I replied. "First, you are wrong about your family. We may be dysfunctional, but your sister, your father and I do love you. Furthermore, your social life notwithstanding, this family is exploding, and you have just as much responsibility to help try and fix it as anyone else here.
"Second, if you think you have an option in this, you're sadly mistaken. I don't need your permission to do this, but you do need mine to do anything else. Do we understand each other?"
"Yeah," he sneered, "I understand. You're pulling the same I'm the boss crap that Dad does when he can't come up with a better reason to make us do something. I understand perfectly, and it'll work just about as well."
"Threats of disobedience won't work with me, young man," I responded angrily. "I can still kick your ass and lock you up in your room. If you doubt it, just try me!"
For a moment, it seemed he just might, but his instinct for self-preservation kicked in. He stomped off to his room and slammed the door behind him. That went well.
"But Mom! I want to go to cheer camp this year!" My daughter was still trying her best to be blonde, despite the overwhelming physical evidence of her brunettehood.
"There will be at least four different cheer camp sessions over the summer, " I replied. "I checked. I'm sure we can get you into one in time for you to finish camp before the auditions start."
"But all my friends are taking the first session! If I do a later one, I won't know anybody in the camp, and I'll miss out on other things we were going to do together! Who will I hang out with, when we're not practicing?"
"That little group of twits you call friends is little more than a clique of bitchy little snobs," I replied. "Not one of them ever lifted a hand to help anyone, unless it bought her an advantage. You'll be a better person for not spending as much time with them." Her face fell.
"Besides, if they aren't around to run interference, maybe you'll meet some nice people in one of the other camps." She began to pout.
"Furthermore," I pointed out, "going to a later camp gives you an advantage at the auditions. After all, you'll have had more recent practice with the routines."
Abigail thought about that for a moment, the grimly said, "Okay, I'll do it, but I still don't like it." Having accepted her fate, she went out to play. That was almost a victory!
Undine was berthed at a dockominium near Palatka. Dad hated paying rent on a slip, so his solution was to buy one. Technically, all he bought was the RTU - right to use - but that's all condominium ownership really is, isn't it? As long as he kept the association dues paid-up, he effectively owned the slip. He could even sell it to someone else, which brings me to the point.
School had let out for the summer only three days before I arrived at the dock office with my sullen family in tow, and waited impatiently for someone to answer the bell. When the clerk finally showed up, I introduced myself, and, since I had not notified them I was coming, I was shocked to find out that they were expecting me.
Some six months earlier, my father had prepaid the association fees for the next five years, and had added my name to the deed, as joint tenant with survivorship rights. No one else was listed as an owner.
The clerk gave me the combination to the gated parking area near the docks, and the keys to the dockbox, saying "Now if there's anything we can do to make your visit more pleasant, please let us know..."
I briefly considered asking if they had a safe place I could stow my family, just so I would have some microscopic chance of enjoying myself, but in an exhibition of superhuman self-control, I refrained.
We parked the car, and I convinced everyone that unloading immediately might not be a good idea. We needed to inspect the boat first, and do any cleaning up and repairs that might be necessary before cluttering it up with our stuff. It didn't improve anyone's mood, but they all seemed to accept the sense of it.
There wasn't really that much to do, we just needed to wash down the decks, make up the bunks, and inventory the provisions. Karl and I took the forward cabin, since it had the V-berth, and Kelly and Abi were each assigned a berth under opposite sides of the cockpit. Each of us had space in a locker, near our assigned berth, to stow our personal gear. Once we were settled in, I demonstrated for the family that we still had a lot of the modern conveniences while we were tied to the dock.
"But didn't you say we were going to spend a lot of time at anchor?" Kelly huffed.
"Yes, I did," I agreed, "but Undine is special. She's equipped to generate electricity from sunlight, as well as wind and water currents. Usually at least one of those will provide enough power to meet our minimum needs. For emergencies, we also have a diesel-powered genset. We won't be able to run everything at anchor that we are able to use at the dock, but we'll have enough power to stay reasonably comfortable."
That conversation piqued Karl's interest. As an electrical engineer, he had to know how the ship's power systems worked. I showed him the shore power connections, both on the dock and on the boat; then the battery banks and the inverter/charger that converts power both ways (i.e., 120VAC to 12VDC and back); finally the distribution panel and ships lighting systems. There was even a special, surge-protected circuit for the ship's navigational computer.
"Carol, will we be staying here for, say, as long as three days?" He asked anxiously.
"Yes," I nodded, "the plan is to spend about a week in these parts, while we acclimate to the boat. Tomorrow, though, the sailing instructors arrive. We won't be at dock all day, but we'll be back each evening until we head up the coast."
He gave a satisfied grunt, and pointing at the ship's computer he asked, "Can you fire that thing up? I'd like to get some more information about the boat's systems." Flabbergasted, I did as he requested, and a few minutes later he was happily surfing the internet via the wireless connection provided by the dock association.
I went topside, leaving my family to explore the interior of Undine. I got out my cell phone, and called Pearl to tell her everything I had discovered about the dock. She seemed unsurprised.
"Your father and I had many, many discussions about Undine, after he became too ill to sail," Pearl told her. "He made it very clear that she, and everything attached to her, would belong to you. I have no problem with that." She paused. "We had several good years together. More than we expected. We made each other happy, and he left me well cared-for. I don't begrudge his desire for you to have her.
"I dearly love to be on the water, but more as a passenger than as a sailor. Your father knew that, and he knew that if he hadn't given Undine to you, it would have been sold to liquidate his estate. I wouldn't have had any choice. I'm glad he did it this way. Maybe you'll invite an old lady along for a sail someday." I could hear the smile in her voice.
"You know it!" I told her. We continued to talk about other matters for awhile, before we said goodbye.
"Give my love to Karl and the children," she said. "And Carol? Don't push them too hard. A gentle nudge sometimes works better than a shove." Then she hung up. I hope she's right!
I went below to prepare dinner, and as I passed the nav station, I saw Karl, happily banging away at the keyboard. "What's up?" I asked.
"I found a source for a complete set of drawings for the boat," he beamed. "I just entered an order. They're coming by FedEx, and should be here in a day or two."
It had been years since I'd seen him that happy about working "around the house," so to speak, and I was glad he found something about the boat that interested him.
Just as I turned into the galley and began to assemble what I needed, I heard him shut the nav computer down, and very shortly thereafter, he walked up behind me and wrapped me in his arms, resting his hands on my belly. Wow! This hasn't happened in a while! It felt good.
I turned my head enough to kiss him on the cheek. With a smile I turned back to my work as he nuzzled my neck. You are going to get so lucky tonight.
The kids were in bed, probably not asleep, but so what? Karl was puttering around, securing the hatches and stuff, so I decided to make the most of the opportunity to get ready for him. I hadn't expected him to show any interest, so I didn't pack any of my "funny underwear," just a few frilly things that I like to wear anyway. I took a shower and used a little perfume in strategic locations, then slipped into the best (read sexiest) panty-and-bra set I had with me.
I took up my station on the V-berth, striking what I hoped was a "sexy" pose, as I heard Karl approach. The look on his face as he parted the curtain was priceless.
"Why are you dressed like that?" he stammered.
"I should think that would be obvious," I replied, sweetly, "I'm horny, and I hope you are too, because I expect you to fuck my brains out." His face fell.
"The kids are still awake," he objected, "and these curtains are pretty thin."
"So?" I challenged, "They know the facts of life. They recognize their own existence, so they know we do too. Besides, as much as it might offend their teenage sensibilities, knowing that we love each other can only help make them feel more secure. Now get in here and be my man!"
His shoulders slumped. I hadn't expected that. He did come through the curtain and stripped down to his boxer shorts and tee, but he stopped there. With a big sigh, he said "Honey, I have to tell you something."
My heart stopped. "There's someone else?" I blurted, in a panic.
"No, no," he waved off my concern, "In some ways, that would be easier to deal with, at least for me." He sighed again and lay back on the V-berth, his hands behind his head. "I can't get it up anymore. That's the reason we haven't made love in so long."
I was dumbfounded. I never knew he had a problem. He'd always performed very well, up to the point where he stopped trying. "How do you know?"
"It's not like a guy just suddenly can't do it, you know," he replied. "I just gets harder and harder to achieve an erection, then one day you know, you've just had your last piece of ass. Mine was the last time we made love." he looked at me meaningfully.
"Nonsense," I rebuked him. "Get out of those clothes. You've just been under a lot of stress, and it's high time we got rid of some of it. Impotence provides it's own feedback; it's a self-fulfilling prophecy." He didn't want to cooperate, but I finally got him undressed.
His eyes showed me real desire, but the part that has to work, in order for us to make love, wasn't cooperating at all... you can't push a rope. On the other hand, I was not without resources and experience. I could damn well pull a rope, and if you pull it just so (and maybe hold your mouth just right - so to speak...), it sometimes turns into a steel rod!
I had at least three pieces of equipment that were well able to pull that rope, and I put them all to use. Not long afterward, we found that rod, and put it to good use as well. We ultimately fell asleep wrapped up in each other, like the lovers we used to be.
I was up early the next morning, preparing breakfast from the stores Dad had left on board, while my mutinous crew slept in. Just as I was about to wake everyone up, Karl came stumbling into the salon.
"Sleep well?" I asked.
"Out like a light," he said grumpily, "but now I'm all stove up!"
"You'll get used to the V-berth," I told him, "and then you'll sleep like a baby."
"Right now I feel like a baby who's been crawling across a busy street!"
"Well, how about rousting the troops? Breakfast in 5 minutes."
He headed aft to do as I asked, and I began dishing the meal. When he and the children were settled around the table, I set out their plates, already dished. That got me some funny looks.
"You do things differently aboard a boat," I explained. "We can't have large bowls of hot food slopping around while we're underway, or stopped in rolly anchorage." Everyone's eyes got really big, as I told them that we would be sharing galley duties, and that meals would be served on time, whether or not we were underway. Everyone would have to pitch in.
"You'll also have to get used to being on watch, too," I stated. "The person on watch is responsible for the safety of the entire crew, especially if we're underway. Everyone will have a turn." Karl looked at me, aghast, while Abi just said "Cool!"
"You mean you would trust me?" Kelly demanded.
"You bet," I said. "And I would expect you to do everything in your power to keep the rest of us safe. That means you would be responsible for navigating safely through busy waters, avoiding lee shores and other hazards, while making headway toward our destination. Our lives would be in your hands." He looked uncomfortable with the idea.
I was a little worried about Karl. He looked a little sick. "But none of us have ever sailed before!" he finally exploded.
"Not to worry," I told them, "In about thirty minutes, a couple of professional sailing instructors are going to be here, to help us learn to take Undine where we want her to go. We'll do the ground school course during the evenings, while we're here, and by the end of the week you'll know as much as most folks who set out on their first voyage."
They didn't seem reassured.
"Look," I said, "we're only going as far as Norfolk. We' probably won't ever be out of site of land. In fact, for most of the trip we'll be in the Intracoastal Waterway, with land on both sides of us. Our biggest job will be to avoid being run down by barges and bigger boats!"
"As if that weren't enough!" Karl grumbled.
"It is enough," I admitted, "and the danger is real, but if we all act sensibly, and follow a few safety rules, we'll be fine. Now finish up. The instructors will be here soon."
The sailing instructors were a hugely successful investment. As experts, they commanded so much more authority than I could have, especially considering the complete hostility everyone held toward learning anything from me! In the week we spent in the vicinity of Palatka, my rebellious teens and sulky husband actually became a halfway decent crew, at least for sailing inland waters.
I had purchased a number of cruising guides, and on our last night at dock, we held a family caucus, to negotiate a float plan.
" I want to make Norfolk by Independence Day," I told my family. "That's far enough to go, on our first cruise, and we won't be so far north that we can't make it back here before school starts." What ensued more closely resembled a brawl more than an enthusiastic discussion, as everyone jockeyed for some advantage in choosing destinations. Funny, no one but me was concerned about routes.
Of course, after thoroughly reviewing the guides, everyone had a list, different from everyone else (naturally!), of places where we should stop and absorb the local "culture." I tried the make the point that such sojourns would be short, few and far between, but I don't think anyone believed that their preferred ports of call would be cut from the itinerary.
We did end up with a workable float plan. We would follow the St. Johns north to the Atlantic, then taking the only open-ocean leg of the trip, we would skip Georgia entirely, re-entering the Intracoastal Waterway in the vicinity of Beaufort, South Carolina. We would proceed northward on "The Ditch" into the Albemarle Sound, making our way through the Sound and then through the Dismal Swamp, and ultimately into Norfolk, at which point the plan called for reversing course and returning "home."
We were midway up the Georgia coast, and it was my turn to be on watch again. For this leg of the trip we staggered the watches, six on, six off, Karl and I on opposites. Kelly and Abi took watches that overlapped Karl and I each of us by three hours.
Abi had just finished her watch, and as Kelly came up to join me, she went forward to spend some time with her Dad. I'd warned them that they should try and get some rest, but neither listened. Big surprise! I gave Kelly a big smile as he handed me a cup of coffee and took the wheel. He's not nearly as sulky as before.
I moved to the fore end of the cockpit, dodging the boom as necessary, and I noticed that Karl and Abi were leaning out over the pushpit rail, staring at the water. Following their gazes, I was delighted to discover that a pod of Atlantic bottlenose dolphins had found us, and were frolicking in our tiny bow wave.
I could hear Abi ooh-ing and ah-ing as her father played the font of wisdom, dispensing all kinds of dolphin lore harvested from PBS. She responded with wide-eyed amazement. They moved closer together, each holding an arm around the other as they watched the pod. I watched them bond as loving father and daughter for the first time since before she entered middle school.
Happy tears. Thanks, Dad.
In the Intracoastal Waterway, the danger of running aground is often too great for night sailing, not to mention that maintenance of the (Coast Guard required) lights on barges and other boats can be somewhat lackadaisical. Believe me, colliding with another boat, especially a bigger one, was not on my list of things I most wanted to do.
All that being said, safe anchorages along "The Ditch" aren't all that plentiful either, so we have to plan each day's journey very carefully. We were inside now, near Beaufort, South Carolina. I knew that Beaufort had a nice municipal marina, so I decided we would spend a night at the transient dock. It's not cheap, but we need the time to plan our route to the next anchorage. Besides, everyone was pretty tired of ships stores, and a restaurant meal would go a long way toward heading off a mutiny.
We ate at the John Cross Tavern. I'd eaten there many years ago, and really enjoyed the food and the atmosphere. It didn't disappoint me this time either. It's also convenient to the marina, so it wasn't a difficult walk for our bloated bodies.
Beaufort is a pretty town, with shops of all kinds only a short walk from where we were tied up. The kids wanted to go exploring, and in a moment of insanity I gave Kelly a couple of twenties, telling him "Take care of your sister."
He looked at the money, then at me, then back at the money, then at me again, and asked, "You want change?
I shook my head and said, "Be back aboard within two hours. " He gulped, grabbed his sister's hand, and they both disappeared, leaving a vapor trail. Karl looked at me as if I'd lost my mind.
"Think about it," I told him. "We now have two hours that we can be aboard the boat alone." He brightened up at that thought, and quickly led me back to Undine.
We weren't in a rush, and we were alone for awhile. We had a very nice time. Karl took his time undressing me, covering each bit of exposed skin with little kisses. Hot! I hadn't worn anything special, but he treated me as if I'd dressed up for the prom. When he was done, I was almost done too... But then it was my turn, and I did the same thing for him.
He still had concerns about his ability to perform, but I wasn't about to let this rare opportunity for uninhibited lust evaporate over them. I met the problem, "head on" if you get my drift. He had no problems with performance that night. In fact, he performed so well that I had nonstop shuddering climaxes the nearly the entire evening, finally coming down moments after the kids burst into the salon. Oh well. At least we had the curtains drawn.
Karl and I cleaned up and entered the salon to see what kind of booty they had claimed for my forty dollars, and were met with a dreamy-eyed smile (Abi) and a shit-eating grin (Kelly). Kids! Don't even know the meaning of respect!
We spent many long days dodging the other traffic along "The Ditch" through South Carolina, sharing crowded anchorages with others who, like us, were too cheap to pay marina fees. We finally made the Albemarle Sound, and decided to take a brief respite from the constant motion.
We found the perfect place to drop anchor, or actually, Karl did. Abi named it "Perfect Comfort", after a story in Don Berry's Magic Harbor� collection. I'm not sure she should have been reading that stuff, but her grandfather introduced her to it.
The anchorage wasn't in any of the guide books; Karl just used his engineering skills, along with maps and charts of the area to figure out where a good anchorage should be. And there it was! And I'm not telling either...
Kelly and Abi had taken the dinghy to do some fishing. Fishing! Can you believe it? A brother and sister, without coercion, actually deciding to spend time together... fishing, no less... boggles the mind. Karl was rummaging around Undine, looking for things to fix, and it was hours before anyone needed to think about preparing a meal, so I lay in the cockpit with the bimini down, soaking up the weakening rays, and sipping a sundowner.
I heard a crash below, and moments later Karl was cursing up a storm. "Are you okay Hon?" I yelled down the hatch. It's hard to believe he could hurt himself down there. There weren't even any swells that would merit the name.
"I'm fine," he yelled back. "I just bumped my head." Mystery solved, I returned to my urgent tanning session.
After a while, Karl popped up through the hatch, carrying a book of some kind. "Your Dad sure had a vivid imagination," he said.
"Hmmmm?" I queried, looking at him blankly.
"This book," he shook it at me. "There was a hidden drawer under the nav station. I was tracing some wiring under there when I banged my head on it. The drawer opened up, and this book was inside. I recognized his handwriting. I never knew he wrote stories though. Most of it is pretty dull, but the last one is a doozie!"
I sat up to see what he was talking about. Oh shit! The note! That's Dad's log book! "Umm.. may I see that?" I asked sweetly.
"Sure, Babe," he gallantly yielded. "I'm finished with it anyway." He handed over the log book, apparently without a care, and went back to whatever he had been doing.
Karl was right. The last entry was a doozie. It had to be fiction, but it couldn't be! This was his log book for Chrissakes! An actual legal document. You don't put crap like that in a log book... unless you really believe that it happened...
I heard the kids' approach and quickly hid the log, both to avoid having to explain it to them, and in hopes that Karl would forget he ever saw it. It happens... right? I did add one more stop to our itinerary, though...
Having spent several days in "Perfect Comfort," we were well behind schedule, so after consulting with the crew, I decided to take the Sound in one leg. We would visit the Outer Banks on the return trip. We stood watches on a two-on, six-off schedule this time, with no overlap. Over the length of the Sound, everyone got to experience a watch covering each different part of the day.
Kelly was the first to hold a night watch by himself, and showed both excitement and trepidation at the prospect. Karl was opposed to allowing either of the children to pilot at night, but I was adamant.
"We have to have faith in them, and be willing to show it," I declared, although inside I was terrified. "If we don't, who will?"
Kelly came through with flying colors, and it wasn't just a milk run either. Several times during the watch the wind shifted, and he had to compensate for a new lee shore, as well as carefully thread Undine in between the barges that never stop moving.
When it came time for me to relieve him, he was showing a lot of fatigue, but he looked very happy.
"Thanks, Mom," he said.
"For what?" I asked.
"Just thanks," he replied, and gave me a very solid hug, before going below.
Even little Abi got a chance to pull a night watch, but Karl couldn't stand the thought of her being alone in the cockpit at night. He stayed up with her, missing a couple of prime sleeping hours because of it. She handled it fine, though, and then dressed him down thoroughly for not having any faith in her, pointing out that fourteen-year-olds regularly sail the Sound in all kinds of conditions. I think she may have overstated her case.
We stayed at a transient slip in Elizabeth City for a couple of days, resting from the long passage, and restocking the ship's stores. While everyone else spent some time sightseeing, I re-read Dad's log to get the coordinates for his anchorage. I needed to find that spot.
In addition to the regular, established anchorages spaced along the main channel, the Dismal Swamp is criss-crossed with canals. The canals were dug with the intent of draining the swamp, way back in our history, and they did succeed in lowering the water level, but not completely, and not permanently.
It was in one of those canals, far enough away from the channel so as not to be disturbed, that Dad had spent most of his time, following Mom's death, and before he met Pearl.
For most of the distance through the Dismal Swamp, the journey is not a sailing experience. Open water is a rarity, the navigable channel is narrow, reliable winds are non-existent, and when there is a wind, lee shores are far too close. Bottom line is, when you cross the Swamp, you're probably using the Iron Genny. Finding the exact spot of Dad's anchorage was tricky, even with the GPS coordinates that he had carefully recorded, but find it we did.
Everyone looked at me as if I'd lost my mind when I gave the order to drop anchor, but they did it anyway. I drew the first shift as cook, so I called a family caucus while I set about preparing the evening meal.
"I know you're all wondering why we stopped here, and for how long," I got lots of nods in response to that. "Well, the why is a lot easier to explain than the how long. I expect that each of you will want to have some input on that." Again with the nods.
"This spot," I waved my arms to indicate the area around our anchorage, "was where my Dad came to recover from Mom's death. It hit him pretty hard." They all listened intently. "It took awhile, but I think being here helped heal him. I kind of hope to find out how that happened." That got some shrugs and mumbled "okay's," but no further comment, so I let them all go back to whatever they were doing.
We stayed at the anchorage for about five days, and in that time, not once did I hear anyone complain about having nothing to do. We would take the dinghy and go fishing in two's, write in our diaries, play board games, do maintenance things, and in general, just enjoy living and being together.
I knew we had to leave, though, and on our last night there, I asked everyone for some time alone in the cockpit. As I sat there alone, sipping my sundowner, I began to hear sounds that could only be described as singing. It couldn't be! I thought about rousting my family, to verify my perceptions, but I was afraid they'd have me committed.
The songs seemed almost wordless, but clear and pure in tone and harmony. They weren't close, at first, but they got closer. Shadows on the water can play tricks on your eyes, even under a full moon. It seemed to me that something was moving in, on and around the water, just out of visual range. Maybe several somethings.
I wasn't really worried. Swamps are renown for their wildlife and night sounds, but the singing didn't sound like any animal I've ever known. It sounded human, just not like any human I ever heard sing.
As I took another slug of my sundowner, I caught a swirl on the water, just a few feet from Undine's hull. It seemed to be coming my way. Curious, I peered over the gunwale and into the water. In the water, I saw a face looking up at me. Not my face, it wasn't a reflection.
A beautiful face, surrounded by a halo of silver-white hair, reflecting the moonlight. For a long time, I stared at her, and she stared back at me. Unexpectedly, another face joined hers, also looking up at me. It was a younger face, and male. It was a familiar face. As I remembered where I had seen that face, they disappeared. It was my Dad's face.
Funny. Judging from what Dad wrote, he didn't think it was possible, but I believed, and I still believe, I had just met my little brother.
I needed to leave something behind for them. Some sign that I knew who they were, and how much they meant to Dad. While the others were out fishing again, I wandered through Undine, looking for inspiration. My eyes fell on Dad's old guitar, sitting in its cheap gig bag, and I knew I had my answer. I rummaged through the ship's stores and found some dark chocolate miniatures, to complete the package. I put the chocolates into the gig bag with the guitar, and move the bag outside on deck.
I got more funny looks about the gig bag on deck, since none of us played, but after I explained that I wanted to leave it here as a kind of monument to Dad, they were all really sympathetic, and kindly left me to my madness. As twilight settled, I heaved the bag into the dingy and quietly rowed to the near shore. I didn't want the motor noise to disturb my quarry. There were a lot of trees, but I chose one that was easily visible from the water.
I removed the chocolates and the guitar from the gig bag, hoping they were watching how it was done. I laid the bag on the ground at the foot of the tree, then I set the guitar and the chocolates on the gig bag, and leaned the guitar against the tree. That done, I returned to the dinghy, and rowed back to the boat
As I stepped over Undine's transom, I looked back at the tree. I could clearly see where I'd left my offerings. They were gone. I smiled. That was exactly what I intended to happen. I extracted Dad's log book from its hiding place, and stood up again. Looking back toward the shore, I imagined that I saw the vague forms of a pale, beautiful woman, and a shorter, darker boy, blowing kisses in my direction. I blew some back and waved goodnight.
I took Dad's book below, and stowed it back in its proper place, then I went to bed and woke up Karl. He was happy to see me.
We made it to Norfolk in time to help celebrate Independence Day. In theory, we were supposed to turn around and head back to our "home" dock the next day. When I brought up the subject at the evening meal, I got only gloomy stares and protests.
"But Kelly," I said, "don't you have plans for the rest of the summer? And Abi, what about cheer camp?" Before I could say more, they interrupted.
"I don't have anything to do that can't be done when we get back. I like what we're doing now!" Kelly said firmly.
"Me too," shouted Abi, "I can go to stupid cheer camp over Thanksgiving break!"
"Like you said," Karl added, "Up until now, I haven't had a vacation in five years. If the company can't make it without me for a little while longer, I need to find another company anyway."
"Well, since you all brought it up," I drawled, "I have sort of been thinking about going a little further North... maybe as far as New York or Rhode Island..."
"Could we make it that far and be back in time for school?" Karl queried.
"Not exactly," I responded, "but we could make it back in time for Thanksgiving..." The kids cheered.
"But what about school?" Karl objected, earning himself some dirty looks from the peanut gallery.
"While you guys were trying to figure out how to avoid this whole trip, I did some research," I told him. "Our local school board has curricula for homebound students, so that they can stay even with those who are attending classes. When I approached the Superintendent about this trip, he almost fell all over himself getting me the materials for home study. Since Kelly will be a Junior, it was more difficult setting it up for him, but we have it covered."
The ensuing cacophony of moans, groans, wailing, and gnashing of teeth, probably convinced all of our neighbors that someone had died.