The Bookworm the Dog and Me Part III
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SerendipityChapter 14 free porn video
We got a good night's sleep. We did, honestly. Eventually, anyway. I had instructions from Eric; we needed to be passing Graemsay on the approach to Stromness just before high water, roughly four o'clock, and that was about twelve miles from Scapa Bay. With the wind still in the south-west, we had to sail east of south well out into Scapa Flow before turning west, which meant more like fifteen miles. That was fine; I allowed four hours, of which Grace took the helm for two (separate) hours. It was my 'trick' at the wheel when we were about to pass Stromness. We were a little early which was a fault on the right side.
I had Grace fire up the diesel, though I hoped we wouldn't need it. In fact, we were just able to make good a course of due west, two-seven-oh degrees true, two-seven-five magnetic passing The Ness and Kirk Rocks, then we were free.
A glance at the chart might seem to show an exit between South Ronaldsay and Flotta might have been easier, and so it would, but we'd then have had to deal with the tidal flows in Pentland Firth, some of which flow faster than Serendipity can sail. No, thank you. As it was, we were off heading west into the Atlantic, with fifty or so sea-miles to put us on the same longitude as Cape Wrath. Cape Wrath I intended to pass at least twenty miles off-shore; the name says it all. Our next port-of-call was to be Stornoway on Lewis for a total passage of around two hundred miles. The weather promised to be settled, the prevailing south-westerly winds holding steady at around force six (twenty-two to twenty-six knots).
Serendipity loved the open sea and the steady, strong breeze; the swell gave her little trouble and she bowled along at a good six knots under all plain sail, but we were unable to hold a course due west. That set us a few miles to the north. That didn't worry me at all, the more clearance we gave the Cape, the better. As we ate our supper in the cockpit, we talked ... of course ... but I wanted to make a point.
"Grace ... you promised to obey..."
"I did."
"I did not expect or require it, but since you did, I intend to take advantage of it."
"Oooh," she cooed, seductively, "I hope you will... !"
"Grace! I'm serious." She sobered, somewhat, and I went on, "I know you've taken pains to be an equal member of the crew; you've worked hard and sometimes long. I respect that. But I want you to promise me to take things a little easier. Please. I want you to try to get a full eight hours sleep, for example. Will you?"
"What has changed, Ted?"
"When you came to me, you were your own woman, seeking your own ends. You chartered Serendipity, and myself to skipper her; I was acting under your orders. Now, though, we are bound together. I have a responsibility to my wife, that I did not have to my charterer."
"But..."
"I am not going to cosset you, wrap you in cotton wool and drive myself into the ground, nor am I intending to rule you like a tyrant. I'm happy for you to make your own decisions as long as – and this works both ways – we both think about how our decisions affect each other."
"Okay."
"I want you to be well, safe and happy, and to give the child you bear every chance of life."
She leaned over and kissed me softly. "Okay."
I looked at her, a little surprised at her compliance.
She smiled, "You're surprised? I meant what I said. I trust you to act in my best interests. I am going to carry on making what contribution I can to our voyage. Actually, the greatest risk to my pregnancy is over, now; the first three months are critical ... but, yes, I will do as you say."
I took in a single reef for the night, which barely slowed Serendipity at all; Grace took the watch from eight to midnight, much of the time letting Serendipity sail herself, just keeping an eye on the compass. When I took over, she did as she was told and slept a full eight hours; we ate breakfast together after I shook out the reefs, and I slept a couple of hours myself.
In almost ideal conditions, we sailed just over one hundred and twenty miles in twenty-three hours, reached our waypoint, and turned south and a little east. Sailing a little free, we headed into 'The Minch' between Lewis and the Scottish mainland. That was an eighty mile run, more or less, and we entered Stornoway Harbour at ten o'clock on Sunday. Serendipity is right at the top of the size limit for using the pontoons. As I intended only two nights stay to take on fuel, water and food, we berthed alongside following instructions from the Harbour office.
The Scots, especially the Islanders, take their religion seriously. You will not find a shop open on a Sunday, unlike us degenerate Sassenachs. That was fine by me; I expected it. Grace and I retired to our cabin and she helped me get to sleep in a most pleasant way. The two hours I slept served to refresh, rather than satisfy my need to sleep. After lunch and an afternoon wandering around the port and town, I was quite ready to go back to bed; Grace no less so. I'm told some women go off sex when they're pregnant. Grace certainly didn't. On Monday, we topped off the tanks, stocked up with food and found a bookshop ... ah, bliss ... and a good restaurant.
There being no showers available, we checked in to a hotel for Monday night. After a shower, over supper, Grace said: "I've been thinking..."
"Always a dangerous activity," I commented.
"No, seriously. So much has changed, hasn't it? So much has happened. I never expected, well, to fall in love with you. I really didn't expect you to fall in love with me. I definitely didn't expect to get married ... just a summer's sailing, a once-in-a-lifetime adventure. Of course, I didn't think about night watches..."
I watched her as she thought some more, frowning a little.
"Ted, I want to go home." She looked at me from under her brows and I lifted an eyebrow in query. "I've seen enough, for now. I mean, we could spend a week here ... on any of the islands, of course. Bridie suggested calling on Iona..." she paused again, "but ... there'll be enough adventure in the next – what? Fourteen hundred miles?"
I nodded, "Near enough, not counting any port calls we make, if we use the Irish Sea. Might be a little further in the Atlantic."
"So, let's sail. Let's head back to Maldon, discussing where we're going to live, things like that, get back there and make a start on the rest of our lives."
There was I, pondering the logistics of visiting several of the Scottish Isles ... you have to consider wind direction and currents while looking at a map to understand ... Suddenly my planning was moot, or largely so, anyway.
I shrugged, "Very well, Sweetheart. You're right, I think. I just hadn't considered that you might have changed priorities."
She reached across the table, took my hand, and lifted it to her lips. "Thank you, Ted. I'm glad you understand."
We finished an excellent meal and went to bed, to make the most of a large, comfortable bed and no responsibilities before we slept ... and to do the same in the morning before showering again. We breakfasted on porridge, and the usual bacon, sausage, eggs and so on, though Grace, of course, eschewed the meat in favour of beans, mushrooms and fried bread.
We were on board Serendipity by eight o'clock and underway by nine-thirty, heading south toward Skye. Seven hours on that course and we turned west toward Harris for five hours. I persuaded Grace, not without difficulty, to go to bed at nine when we turned south again. At midnight I tacked to head west, and a little under three hours after that I tacked to miss North Uist. Heading south once more, there was nothing but water in front of Serendipity for over sixty miles.
If you have ever worked nights, there's a time, before dawn, where you slow right down. It's the hardest time to stay awake, and time seems to stop. At sea, standing watch alone, I find – particularly when, like the time I'm thinking of, I've been awake almost twenty-four hours – things seem unreal. My head is ... light ... and my mind wanders. Sometimes, I think I sleep standing up, if only for a few seconds. On this occasion, I may or may not have slept, but certainly my attention was not on sailing the ship. Serendipity woke me, her sails slatting and banging, having turned gradually into the wind. I backed the foresail and got her back on course, thinking of coffee.
Grace appeared, rubbing her eyes. She'd taken the trouble to dress, or, perhaps, had never undressed. "You slept, didn't you?"
"Something like that," I admitted.
"Well, I'm awake now," she said, "and I'm quite well rested, so you can go to bed, can't you?"
I might have protested, but my sluggish mind resisted and I bowed to the inevitable. "Keep an eye open for the CalMac ferry, though. I think they run in the afternoon, but never make assumptions."
"I know, my love. Go and rest now."
I stumbled off to bed, my only preparation the removal of my shoes.
I do not require a lot of sleep. If I can sleep normally, eight or nine hours is wonderful, but otherwise I can get by on maybe four. The cost is something like a hangover; a mild one that lingers, ameliorated but not eliminated by good coffee. I woke after eight and made my way out of the cabin, staggering a little. Grace looked round and frowned.
"You should sleep some more."
"It would be a waste to go back to bed and lay there with my eyes open. I'll be fine after some coffee. But let me clean my teeth..." I reached out and brushed her cheek with my fingertips. "Good morning, darling Mate."
She smiled at that and I could no more resist returning the smile than stop an express-train with my bare hands. I went and emptied my bladder, wishing I had done so before sleeping – I might have slept longer – cleaned my teeth and put the kettle on. While it was boiling I went out onto the cockpit to kiss my wife. Having done so, as comprehensively as possible when one party to the osculation is trying to steer a sailing-boat, I stood hugging her from behind as she steered, looking around. South Uist was away to starboard, visible, but far enough away I felt comfortable. I heard the kettle beginning to sing.
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