patted the steering wheel invitingly, in dumb show inviting Hazel to take over.
She looked at Erikson, waiting for a veto. When he provided none, she stepped up and took the wheel. The wind flattened her blouse to her body, delineating her large breasts. Wilson watched her hands on the wheel for a moment, then stepped aside to give her room. He saw her glance up at the compass, and his grin widened. “Nor’ by nor’west!” he bawled.
I could see Hazel’s lips move, but I couldn’t hear her voice in the whistling windstream. She must have repeated the direction, because the
Calypso
changed course gradually, then settled down to throwing water again. “By God, she can set a course!” Wilson roared in delight. “We’ve got us a sailor aboard!”
In a few moments Erikson tapped Hazel on the shoulder and motioned for her to give way at the wheel. He took over himself and began conning the boat in a series of sweeping turns, testing its maneuverability. Hazel came over and sat down beside me. Before she left the wheel, Hazel stooped and picked up something which she showed me as she sat down. It was a length of a lead pipe with a wooden handle.
Wilson sat down beside us, closer to Hazel than he needed to be. “That’s to repel boarders,” he informed us when he saw what Hazel held in her hand. “Lots of pirates in these waters.” He slipped an arm around Hazel’s waist. In seconds his hand had circumnavigated her body and the fingers at the end of the hand were cupping her breast.
Hazel twisted on the seat cushion, raised the lead pipe, and smashed it down upon the railing within inches of Wilson’s encircling arm. The pipe made a noticeable dent in the hard wood of the railing.
Wilson didn’t flinch. His fingers were no longer at Hazel’s breast, but he didn’t remove his arm. “You want to be a little bit careful with that thing,” he said.
“I
was
careful,” Hazel informed him sweetly. “That time.”
“I like it when they have a little spirit,” Wilson said to no one and everyone.
At the wheel Erikson raised his arm. Wilson started to get to his feet, but the blond man waved him off. He beckoned, and Hazel went to him and took the wheel. I couldn’t tell if Erikson had seen the byplay with the lead pipe or not. He sat down between Wilson and me.
“I want this cruiser cleaned,” he said to Wilson without preliminary. “And I mean cleaned thoroughly. If we had the time, I’d want it painted, inside and out. I want the bilge kept bone-dry, and I want extra vent holes bored and extra cutouts made along the floor near the gratings to permit air to reach all parts of the hull and bilge. Right this minute this boat is nothing but a floating gasoline tank.”
“You’re the doctor.” Wilson shrugged. “When we takin’ off for real?”
“Just as soon as I can get all the necessary gear together. I’d say no later than two weeks from today. If we string it out beyond that, we risk running into the early hurricane season. When we get back to The Castaways, I’ll give you another list of supplies I want brought aboard.”
“We goin’ in now?”
“Yes.”
Wilson returned to the wheel to relieve Hazel. “Why did you let Slater so far out of your sight on his way down here?” I asked Erikson. “After the problem you mentioned?”
“I think he’s settled down,” Erikson said absently. “He had a lot of accumulated steam to blow off.” The big man’s pale blue eyes were fixed upon a big patch of corrosion on a stanchion. I knew the unkempt condition of the
Calypso
must gripe his neat ex-Navy soul. “Actually, it’s Slater’s physical condition that makes me want to keep him off the shellac,” he continued. “We’re facing some hard, hard going down in the interior, and after years of disuse, I don’t know if his musculature will stand up to it.”
The
Calypso
slowed in its forward drive. Erikson stood up and looked forward. When I followed suit, I saw that we were
She looked at Erikson, waiting for a veto. When he provided none, she stepped up and took the wheel. The wind flattened her blouse to her body, delineating her large breasts. Wilson watched her hands on the wheel for a moment, then stepped aside to give her room. He saw her glance up at the compass, and his grin widened. “Nor’ by nor’west!” he bawled.
I could see Hazel’s lips move, but I couldn’t hear her voice in the whistling windstream. She must have repeated the direction, because the
Calypso
changed course gradually, then settled down to throwing water again. “By God, she can set a course!” Wilson roared in delight. “We’ve got us a sailor aboard!”
In a few moments Erikson tapped Hazel on the shoulder and motioned for her to give way at the wheel. He took over himself and began conning the boat in a series of sweeping turns, testing its maneuverability. Hazel came over and sat down beside me. Before she left the wheel, Hazel stooped and picked up something which she showed me as she sat down. It was a length of a lead pipe with a wooden handle.
Wilson sat down beside us, closer to Hazel than he needed to be. “That’s to repel boarders,” he informed us when he saw what Hazel held in her hand. “Lots of pirates in these waters.” He slipped an arm around Hazel’s waist. In seconds his hand had circumnavigated her body and the fingers at the end of the hand were cupping her breast.
Hazel twisted on the seat cushion, raised the lead pipe, and smashed it down upon the railing within inches of Wilson’s encircling arm. The pipe made a noticeable dent in the hard wood of the railing.
Wilson didn’t flinch. His fingers were no longer at Hazel’s breast, but he didn’t remove his arm. “You want to be a little bit careful with that thing,” he said.
“I
was
careful,” Hazel informed him sweetly. “That time.”
“I like it when they have a little spirit,” Wilson said to no one and everyone.
At the wheel Erikson raised his arm. Wilson started to get to his feet, but the blond man waved him off. He beckoned, and Hazel went to him and took the wheel. I couldn’t tell if Erikson had seen the byplay with the lead pipe or not. He sat down between Wilson and me.
“I want this cruiser cleaned,” he said to Wilson without preliminary. “And I mean cleaned thoroughly. If we had the time, I’d want it painted, inside and out. I want the bilge kept bone-dry, and I want extra vent holes bored and extra cutouts made along the floor near the gratings to permit air to reach all parts of the hull and bilge. Right this minute this boat is nothing but a floating gasoline tank.”
“You’re the doctor.” Wilson shrugged. “When we takin’ off for real?”
“Just as soon as I can get all the necessary gear together. I’d say no later than two weeks from today. If we string it out beyond that, we risk running into the early hurricane season. When we get back to The Castaways, I’ll give you another list of supplies I want brought aboard.”
“We goin’ in now?”
“Yes.”
Wilson returned to the wheel to relieve Hazel. “Why did you let Slater so far out of your sight on his way down here?” I asked Erikson. “After the problem you mentioned?”
“I think he’s settled down,” Erikson said absently. “He had a lot of accumulated steam to blow off.” The big man’s pale blue eyes were fixed upon a big patch of corrosion on a stanchion. I knew the unkempt condition of the
Calypso
must gripe his neat ex-Navy soul. “Actually, it’s Slater’s physical condition that makes me want to keep him off the shellac,” he continued. “We’re facing some hard, hard going down in the interior, and after years of disuse, I don’t know if his musculature will stand up to it.”
The
Calypso
slowed in its forward drive. Erikson stood up and looked forward. When I followed suit, I saw that we were
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