I take an angry young woman out for a recuperative sail. Not a sex story.
[Author's Note - There is no sex in this story. This was written for a close friend who has struggled with some personal issues lately.]
A Fun Day With Lauren
I awoke to a balmy, breezy day. The weather was perfect for a sail -- bright sunshine, no chance of rain, steady 12-15 knot breeze out of the north. A good day for a beam reach out into the North Atlantic and back. It was still early so I decided to hit the marina restaurant for breakfast before casting off for a spirited sail.
The restaurant was mostly empty, only a few tables filled. The normal chatter and clatter of a restaurant dining room was suddenly shattered. One of the waitresses was going off on a customer. It seemed as if he had made some untoward comments to her and she was giving him both barrels at full volume.
“What the fuck do you mean ‘You’d like to eat me for breakfast’? You’re nothing but a lowlife asshole as far as I’m concerned! You’ve always leered at me, at my body, and made suggestive comments ever since you’ve been coming in here. You’re an asshole, a real dickhead. Why don’t you crawl back in your hole and beat off, jerk! I’m not some hussy whore who’s gonna jump in the sack with you just because you think you’re God’s gift to women. Now get out and don’t come back.” With that, she ripped off her apron and stormed out, slamming the door.
The restaurant slowly came back to life. I finished my coffee, slapped a twenty on the table and left. Outside, I could see the poor woman sitting in her car, smoking a cigarette and talking on her cellphone, waving her hands about wildly. I stepped over by the driver’s window, looking at her with a soothing expression and a wry smile. She ended her call and rolled the window down.
“What the fuck do you want? Can’t you see that I’m upset?”
“Of course I can. That’s why I’m here. Why don’t you step out and take a short walk with me. Maybe I can help calm you down.”
Oddly, she got a resigned look about her and got out of the car. I led her toward the marina, walking slowly down the dock toward my boat. “He really got your goat, didn’t he? Guess he hasn’t learned how to be nice to people, huh?”
“He’s an asshole. He’s been hitting on me ever since I began working there.”
“That’s unfortunate. I’m Sailor, by the way. What’s your name?”
“I’m Lauren. And I’m looking for a job. Know anybody who’s hiring?”
I chuckled at her change of attitude and attempt at humor. “Look, Lauren, you’ve just had a raunchy morning. I’m planning to take a leisurely sail and maybe you’d like to come along. The fresh air and being on the water might do you some good. How about it?”
She pondered this as we continued our walk down the docks. When we got to my boat, I stopped. “Well? How about it? Here she is: my floating home. Can I convince you to come along for some R and R? I promise to be a good boy.”
I piloted my boat out of the marina and toward the inlet to the ocean. Lauren sat in the cockpit stewing, still reliving her morning adventure. When we got to the ocean inlet, I broke her concentration.
“Lauren, I’ll need your help, please. As soon as we get past the jetties, I’ll point the boat into the wind. Then I’ll want you to pull on this line, the one with the red dot pattern, to hoist the mainsail. Think you can help with that?”
Once the main was deployed, I fell off the wind, the boat healed over and we were underway. I shut off the noisy diesel motor, a magical moment on a sailboat. Once the motor is killed, the only sound is the wind and water. It suddenly underscores the purity of sailing. I deployed the jib, giving us more horsepower and we were now healed over at 20 degrees, making 5 knots in a 12 knot breeze. The sun was shining brightly, the waves were manageable at 2 to 3 feet, and life was good.
I noticed that Lauren seemed to be enjoying herself, facing the wind, her beautiful long hair streaming back. “Have you ever sailed before, Lauren?”
“Nope. But this is amazing. I feel so free, so … so … I don’t know how to describe it. So content, maybe. It just feels so natural, so centering.”
“Come stand by me at the helm. Ever driven a 40 foot sailboat before?” Lauren stood up just as the boat hit a wave, sending her careening into me. I caught her in my arms as she grabbed at me and the wheel for balance. I got behind her and let her steer the boat, although I was firmly pressed up against her lithe body. We held this course for what seemed like a pregnant interlude, all the while Lauren was testing out her skills at the helm, and I was enjoying feeling my body pressed against her svelte frame.
Even though Lauren was captivatingly beautiful, I kept my hands to myself. It just didn’t seem appropriate to try any sophomoric stunts. Then, without any prompting, she turned around, wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me square on. It lasted a bit longer than expected and when we broke, she gave me an endearing look. “Thank you, Sailor, thank you. This is exactly what I needed. I’ve been trying to figure out just how you knew that this was the answer.”
“Lauren, in lo my many years, I’ve learned that sailing is almost always the answer. There’s just something about being on the water, away from it all, powered only by nature itself that gets us back in touch with life.”
When we returned to port, we exchanged numbers. Over the next months, Lauren and I became fast friends. She joined me on my sailboat on numerous occasions and got to be quite an accomplished first mate. Oh, yeah … eventually we did mate, but that’s another story.