Beginnings - SF2 (30 page)

"Oh, I think you made an impact. He gave you the same look Ryan gives me before she jumps me!"

"He's following my evil plan perfectly then," she grinned mischievously.

The boat was docked near the edge of the marina with the other large vessels. The two strapping stevedores had no trouble climbing aboard, even with their loads, and within a few minutes they had everything stowed away and were ready to sail.

Mia had been sailing many times. It seemed that most families on the Peninsula sailed, and she had frequently accepted invitations to spend a day on the ocean. While not nearly as competent as her friend, she had enough experience to make her a perfectly acceptable first mate.

The first order of business was a short lecture on the basic elements of sailing. Since both O'Flaherty's were practical people, with a good understanding of the natural world, they immediately grasped the basic concepts. "I've got it," Ryan said. "You can't sail directly into the wind, but you can sail directly with the wind. If you don't want to go the way the wind is blowing, you have to cut across it and use the sails and the rudder to provide lift and thrust."

"Uhh, maybe you should give the lecture," Jamie mumbled.

"No, no, not at all. You just explain it very well," Ryan said with a grin. "It makes it obvious."

"Riiight," she drawled. "Anyway, let's cover some basic terms. The sails are pretty obvious, but the ropes that move them are called sheets."

"Shouldn't the sail be the sheet?" Conor asked, his forehead wrinkled in question. "It looks like a big sheet."

"Ahh, probably," she agreed. "But they're not. The big pole down the center of the boat is the mast. You put the mainsail up the mast via this rope called the mainsheet. A very important piece of equipment is the boom," she said as she slapped the heavy canvas-covered piece that stuck out at a right angle from the mast. "The term is important, because that's just what it feels like if it hits you."

"Why would it hit you?" Ryan asked.

"Well, remember how we have to 'tack' across the wind?"

Two dark heads nodded.

"The boom moves from side to side, holding the sail out to catch the wind. You 'trim' the sail by moving the boom using the sheets. The boom moves independently, and rather abruptly, if the wind changes unexpectedly. So it's best to never let your attention wander too much if you're in the path that it travels."

"Got it," Conor stated. "Don't get hit by the boom."

"A few more terms are mandatory," she instructed. "The front of the boat is the bow, but if you're going towards the bow you're also moving fore. Likewise the rear of the boat is the stern, but moving towards the stern is aft."

"Huh?" Ryan asked, actually scratching her dark head. "Why not just say bow and stern?"

"Umm, think of fore and aft as signposts leading you to the destination of the bow and stern."

"If you insist," she replied, casting a dubious glance at her teacher.

"Two more must-knows. Port is the left of the boat when you face forward. And starboard is the right."

"What is the left of the boat when you face the stern?" Ryan asked, obviously trying hard to lock this information into her brain in some semblance of order.

"It's the starboard," Jamie said slowly, now casting a dubious glance at her student.

"OH! I get it. You just meant that each side has a fixed name no matter which way you're facing!"

"Well, yeah," she said slowly.

"She could have just said so," Conor muttered a little under his breath.

Jamie ignored his grumbling and started to discuss casting off, but was once again stopped by her partner. "What is the term for going towards the port or the starboard?"

"Uhh, just port and starboard," Jamie replied confidently.

"Shouldn't they have signposts too?" Ryan asked sincerely.

"Let go, Ryan, just let go," she said soothingly as she massaged her temples.

"All right," she agreed as she shrugged her broad shoulders. "Just trying to get some consistency here."

Jamie continued to instruct her small class for a few minutes. It wasn't important that they learn too much at first, since she really only needed them for one task. "Okay," she said as she handed each O'Flaherty a pair of leather-palmed gloves with shortened fingers. "Your main job is to be my grinders. You keep the sheets taut by sticking those big cranks in the winches here and grinding for all you're worth when I tell you to."

The bright blue eyes shared a glance and then fixed upon Jamie again. "So you and Mia do the fun stuff, and we work our asses off?" Ryan asked.

"Pretty much," she said brightly.

"Sounds good to me," Conor said happily.

"Me too," his little sister agreed.

Since they knew the drill, Jamie and Mia inspected each line, shackle, bolt, screw, winch and strap they could get their hands on. When they were certain the boat was shipshape, Jamie instructed Conor to stand on the dock and cast them off. After checking the fuel tanks, she started the surprisingly powerful inboard engines. Conor's eyes bugged out a bit as she motored the Swan out of the slip. "Wow, why learn all this sailing stuff if you can just hit those babies hard and cruise around the Bay?"

"These are just big enough to get us in and out of the slip and help us get in if we can't sail in. The fuel tanks aren't really huge anyway, Conor," she called over the growling of the engines.

He released the lines, one at a time, and hopped back on just as she started to clear the dock. Mia showed them how to remove the small bumpers that protected the boat in the dock, but looked rather unsightly when under sail. When all of the gear was stowed away, they were clear of the marina and ready to rock.

"Okay, Buffy," Jamie called to her partner. "Ready to hoist the mainsail?"

"Aye, aye," her lover answered happily. Following the instructions that Jamie had given earlier, Ryan did an admirable job of hoisting the huge piece of fabric up the very tall mast. The halyard that pulled the material up was engineered to make the work fairly easy, but she used most of her arm and shoulder muscles in the task. When the mainsail was secure, Conor got to work on the jib.

Mia helped him secure it properly, and then scampered aft to await instructions from the captain. "Okay, we're going to start off on a port tack. Mia, set the sails," she ordered. With a small salute, Mia quickly reminded Ryan how to trim the main and sat next to Conor to help him with the jib. Just to keep them on their toes, Jamie executed a few little tacking drills, forcing them to grind almost constantly just to keep up.

"Hey! Make up your mind!" Conor called as he stopped to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Just a little test," she called back, satisfied with the rigging. "Come on back, Ryan," she called.

Ryan walked back to the stern, grinning a bit when she paused a moment to take in her lover. The day was warm and dry on shore, but the always-brisk wind of the Bay constantly required plenty of clothing. Jamie's head was covered by an orange nylon baseball cap, its closure pulled snug to keep it secure in the breeze. A wind and waterproof navy blue anorak covered a bright yellow turtleneck, and under her matching navy blue pants, she wore a silk thermal union suit that Ryan had teased her about when they were getting dressed. She had never been too warm while on the Bay, and she doubted that this day would be any different. Her navy blue leather topsiders, which obviously had a lot of miles on them, covered two thin pairs of nylon socks.

To Ryan's appraising eye, she was the cutest thing on water, and her approving gaze told Jamie just that as she approached. "What's that look for?" the blonde asked, knowing full well what that look usually meant.

"Just thinking that the Sirens' song wouldn't mean a thing to me if I could just get one look at you," she said with a lovesick grin on her sweet face.

"Come sit down and let me sit on your lap, you sweet thing," she demanded.

Ryan did just that, happily nuzzling her lover's neck while Jamie expertly steered the boat, using the very large wheel. "Wanna take over?" the blonde's voice carried back to the human chair.

"Yeah! Can I?" she asked with all of the excitement of a seven-year-old at Christmas.

"Absolutely. Come stand in front of me, and I'll let you get a feel for the action," she instructed. Ryan did so, and after a few moments of resting her hands on top of Jamie's, she was given control of the big boat. Jamie would have given anything to have a camera at that moment. Her broadly grinning lover was standing comfortably on widely-splayed legs, her proud face staring into the wind, dark hair streaming behind her. Surprisingly, she did not wear a hat; her hair was unrestrained. She wore a white turtleneck under the bright blue wool sweater that was a favorite of Jamie's. Her yellow nylon windbreaker covered both, but it was unzipped enough to show both of her sweaters. Her ever-present jeans and running shoes completed her outfit that did not have Jamie's approval. The blonde had strongly suggested that they buy proper sailing gear, but her proud lover would not let her buy it and was reticent to buy it for herself until she was sure she would enjoy the sport. "I might be hanging over the side the whole time," she had joked the previous evening. Jamie let her win the round, but she was determined to have an outfit for her the next time they went out. She knew from experience that wet jeans were no fun when the brisk wind hit them, but she had decided to let Ryan find that out for herself.

As acting captain, Ryan, of course, had to make her brother jump from port to starboard several times to trim the sails, but she knew he would get her back at some point during the day. The wind was picking up, making the Bay a little rough, but neither sibling seemed to mind. In fact, Ryan seemed to smile wider and wider every time they hit a depression, making the boat thump hard against the water. "Wanna do something really fun?" Jamie asked as the wind gained even more velocity.

"I'm in!" Ryan stated dramatically, hardly caring what the event was.

"Hey, Mia!" she called, interrupting her friend's flirting.

"Yo!"

"Show our guests how to ride the rail!" she called out over the howling wind. "Get them some foul weather gear and life jackets first," she added.

Mia scampered below and retrieved two bright red rubberized overalls for Ryan and Conor. They both looked adorable in their matching gear, which covered them to mid-torso. Jamie turned the boat just a bit, causing the starboard side to lift off the water at a dramatic angle. Showing, rather than explaining, Mia sat on the deck and wedged her torso between the two rubber-covered safety lines that ringed the boat. Her butt was resting right on the toe rail, her small feet dangling over the waves. It was a fairly dangerous move, given the conditions, but she seemed totally confident so the O'Flahertys followed suit.

There was something so elemental and free about the experience that Ryan wished it could last for hours. The ride was jarring and rough and very wet, and she knew that she would be chilled to the bone in a short time, but she just loved it. Looking at the smile on her brother's face, she knew that he felt the same. When she turned back to Jamie, they locked eyes for just a moment—just long enough for Ryan to experience a stab of connection right in the pit of her stomach. Having Jamie understand what this felt like, and having her know that Ryan would totally love it, was a very powerful experience. She wanted to wrap her arms around her partner and give her a big squeeze, but that would require climbing back up on the deck, and she just was not ready to give up her perch.

Catching Mia's eye, Jamie signaled that she wanted to tack again. Mia informed the siblings, and they scrambled to trim the sails and jump to the port side to ride that rail.

They continued in a similar vein for almost half an hour. They looked like they were having a very good time, but Jamie was worried that they would freeze if she left them out there much longer. A small adjustment righted the boat, and the rail sitters slid from their positions and crawled along the now-slick deck to join Jamie at the helm.

"God, that rocked!" Ryan cried, tossing her arms around her lover. "I could stay out there all day!"

Conor echoed her sentiments, adding, "The only thing I still have to do is steer, and I'll be happy," as he gazed at Jamie with puppy dog eyes.

She smiled back and crooked a finger, beckoning him to join her. "Come on, Mia, you help out here, and I'll tend the sails with Buffy."

Conor did well at his task, carefully piloting the boat. Ryan had ditched her overalls--claiming they had more water in them than they had repelled--and judging from her now dark blue pants, Jamie thought she might be right.

Conor didn't really take advantage of his position, but they still had to scamper back and forth a few times to keep up with his tacking. They had just gotten the sheets set after one such tack when he began to turn in the opposite direction. Ryan jumped to her feet to help her partner, but she forgot the cardinal rule for just one short moment. A moment was all it took for the boom to come flying at her so quickly that she only had time to grab on and let it yank her off her feet, her long body dangling precariously over the choppy water.

Jamie was well used to situations just like this one, and she did not panic. She slowly began to pull on the sheet, reeling her partner in. She yelled as loudly as she could to Conor to maintain his position, but he obviously didn't hear her or couldn't make his body follow her instructions. He did what most beginners would do--he yanked the wheel in the opposite direction, thinking that would bring his baby sister back. Instead, it jerked the sail so abruptly that Ryan's tenuous grip failed, and she slid into the ocean with a small splash.