Slave Of Destiny (14 page)

The next few years
seemed to fly past Michael, as if Father Time was trying to encourage him to go
somewhere quickly. He had matured after his bout of Ross River Fever and his
immanent coma, much to the relief of his parents. At school Michael had
excelled at history and geography, while at the same time he had excellent
results in all his other subjects, but he finished the summer recuperating and
began an electrical apprenticeship. Over the next four years Michael had a few
girlfriends and one that he was especially keen on, but he never ever forgot
the girl of his dreams; a brown-skinned, almond-eyed princess.

It was a Saturday
and Michael had just finished an overtime stint at work. He decided to go past
the Marina on the way home, because they occasionally advertised used boats for
sale on their notice board. As Michael stopped his blue Ford Cortina, he
glanced over the array of sailing and power boats. The serene setting of boats
bobbing on the water stirred up his emotions and he wished, one day, to own his
own sailing boat. Bertram fly-bridge cruisers, Farr sailing sloops, Mottle
sloops, Roberts’ sloops and many other brands of vessels adorned the marina.
Michael sighed and strolled over to the notice board, mounted on the side of
the chandlery.

“Wow, a boat for
sale” he mumbled to himself; trying not to be too eager.

Tailor Maid could
be a great cruising boat and Duncanson yachts are renowned for their strength
and heavy weather capabilities. Built in 1967, this 35’ boat is to be sold ‘as
is’ and some safety gear is included. It sleeps 6, carries 100 litres fuel and
230 litres water. The boat’s sea kindly performance makes sailing in all but
the worst conditions very comfortable. Urgent sale $7,000. Please contact the
chandlery for further details.

It sounded too good
to be true, but Michael wandered into the chandlery anyway.

“What can do for you,
young fellow?” grumbled the bearded man sitting behind the counter.

“I see that you
have a boat for sale” he enquired.

“The Duncanson? Yea
it’s for sale, but it’s in a sorry state. You interested in buying it?” he
asked, perking up.

“I wouldn’t mind taking
a look…” Michael replied.

“My name’s Arthur
Morgan” he said, reaching out with his hand.

“Michael Hart” He
said as he shook it. “Do you have a photo of it?”

“I can do better
than that, because I can show you it if you like?” he suggested.

“That would be
great thanks, Arthur” he said.

“I’m going to lock
up the shop, so if you wait outside I’ll meet you out there soon” he said,
ushering him outside.

While Michael stood
there with his back to the door, he looked over the large anchor adorning the
front garden, then at the Australian flag fluttering at the top of the pole.

“Sorry to keep you
waiting, Michael” Arthur said few minutes later.

Michael turned
around and his jaw nearly hit the ground when he saw Arthur pushing himself in
a wheelchair and his legs ending in stumps.

“I didn’t realize
before you were sitting in a wheelchair” he admitted.

“Yea I do seem to
have that effect on people who see me for the first time. Walk beside me and I
tell you a short story of my life” he suggested.

The two of them wandered
around the back of the shop and the then down to a gate in the middle of a wire
fence, before going through it.

“I began building
the Duncanson here in my spare time in April 1967. My wife and I ran the
business together and we had dreams of cruising the world when Tailor Maid was
completed. Cassie became pregnant in the summer of ’69 and our baby, Jessie,
was born in August the following year…..” he said quietly as he remembered the
event.

“Where are they
now” Michael enquired politely.

“They’re both gone.
In February 1972 a drunk driver slammed into the car we were driving and killed
both of them. I survived the accident, but my legs were crushed and they had to
be amputated” he sighed.

“I’m sorry for your
loss” Michael offered politely.

“Yea, thanks.
Anyway, what I’m trying to tell you, I haven’t worked on her since the
accident” he said completing his tale.

The boat was on the
hard-stand; roughly propped up with planks of hardwood. The paint on the hull
was peeling and the boat’s name was unrecognizable.

“There’s a ladder
underneath” he mentioned.

“Is it safe?” he
asked, referring to the ladder and the props.

“Of course it is.
She won’t move” he stressed, hoping Michael wouldn’t back out.

Michael grabbed the
ladder and struggled to maneuver it in place, before he climbed up.

“It’s not locked”
he yelled out.

Michael ignored the
peeling paint, the mud hornet’s nests, the bird droppings and the dirt and he
tried to figure out the yacht’s positive features. The Aluminum mast and boom
looked serviceable, while the coach house and cockpit appeared roomy, so he
went below deck. The companionway was wide and he began to think this yacht was
great until he opened the hatch and peered below. Power tools, electrical
cables, ropes, timber, cobwebs and other rubbish was strewn everywhere and the fitting
out was only half completed.

“There’s a diesel
motor in there” he called out.

Sure enough there a
rusty looking diesel motor behind the access panels. Michael had seen enough,
so he crawled out from the access panel and back up the companionway. He
climbed back down the ladder and circled the yacht. The rudder was in place, as
was the propeller shaft and prop.

“Does the motor
run?” he asked, because he knew Arthur was following him.

“It was new when it
was fitted” he mentioned, before admitting sadly, “No it’s never been started.”

Michael stood back
and looked over the smooth, harmonious shape of the yacht.

“It needs a lot of
work!” he stated.

“I’m willing to
listen to any offer” he mentioned.

“I’ll have to think
about it over the weekend” Michael said, shaking his head slightly

“I’ll be honest
with you, Michael. I’ve been offered a large amount of money for this block of
land here; one that I can’t refuse. The new owners want the Duncanson gone
within a month, so they can start developing the site. You can keep all the
tools on board and I’ll get the diesel and the cooling system overhauled and
working. The sails are stored inside the chandlery and I can arrange for
someone to help you change the rigging” he added, trying to sweeten the deal.

“I’ll be honest
with you as well; I’m very interested in buying the yacht, but I’ll let you
know on Monday afternoon. If you can hold it for me, I’ll give you my answer
then” Michael said firmly.

“I’ll do that for
you” he said happily. “Can you remove the ladder and lay it down again where
you found it?”

“No trouble” he
said and followed Arthur’s instructions.

Michael walked back
to the chandlery with Arthur and said “I’ll be around Monday afternoon.”

“Ok, lad, I’ll be
here waiting for your answer.” he said, before adding. “I really would like her
to go to someone who would appreciate a classic sloop.”

“I’ll think about
it; see you then” Michael said, before he walked over to his car and drove
away.

Michael wasn’t a
stranger to sailing; in fact he had sailed, many times, on his best friend’s yacht
for the past six years. His friend had a shoal-draft 20’ Hood trailer-sailor
and they had spent many weekends sailing, exploring and diving on the reef.
Michael really needed his advice on this, because he looked upon him as an
honest friend and an expert with all things about sailing. His friend, Geoff,
was fourteen years older than he was and Geoff was married to Michael’s cousin,
but he was still his best friend.

On Sunday morning
Michael talked to Geoff about the Duncanson and he advised him to separate the
good and the bad points, the cost of buying the yacht and the short time he had
to make it sea-worthy. Geoff offered to inspect the yacht with him on Monday
afternoon, before Michael handed over his hard-earned cash. Geoff lived at
Balgal Beach while Michael lived a few miles away on acreage property, but they
both worked in town. Geoff agreed to meet him at the marina at four-thirty
Monday afternoon and, because Michael normally finished work around
three-thirty, he would have an extra thirty minutes to pick up the cash from
the bank.

* * *

Michael only had
twenty thousand dollars in his bank account, which he had saved to buy a block
of land. He with-drew seven thousand dollars on Monday afternoon, but decided
to try and bargain about the price when he met with Arthur. If he could buy it
for six or even five thousand dollars, he could use the extra cash for the
renovations.

“I would offer him
six” advised Geoff as they sat in the cockpit. “It’s probably worth at least
eight thousand dollars.”

“How long do you
think it would take to complete the fit out?” Michael asked.

“See if you can
take some holidays and just do the basics. You can leave the sink, the oven and
the cooker until later. A bucket will do for a sink and you can cook on a
portable gas unit. The important areas to finish are the v-birth, side bunks
and the storage lockers. Don’t forget you still have to replace the rigging,
service the motor, fix the life-lines, paint the entire yacht and paint
anti-fowling on the keel and hull” he said thoughtfully.

“How much will all
that cost?” Michael asked.

“It could cost a
few thousand dollars” he suggested.

“I’m willing to
bargain with you” shouted Arthur from below.

Arthur must have
pushed himself over and been listening to our conversation.

“We’ll be down in a
minute, Arthur” Michael called out.

The two mates
climbed down, before Michael suggested “There’s a lot to be done.”

“I didn’t say it
was going to be easy, young fella” he gaffed. “Do you want it?”

“Would you take six
for it?” Michael asked hopefully.

“I said I’m willing
to bargain with you. Yea I’ll take six for her!” he said.

Michael counted out
the cash and passed the wad of notes to Arthur

“Can you service
the motor for me?” Michael asked.

“I’ll get someone
out in the next few days” he mentioned. “Here’s a key for the gate, but you’ll
have to get your own lock for the companionway hatch.”

Geoff and Michael
watched Arthur wheel himself over to his apartment at the side of the
chandlery, before the two of them walked over to their cars.

“Well, you’ve got
yourself a boat. Now the fun begins. See you later, Michael.” Geoff said,
before jumping in his Ford and diving away.

I bought myself a
yacht.
He
liked the sound of that!

Michael had to work
this week before he was allowed to take two weeks’ holidays, but he managed to
spend a few hours every afternoon cleaning out the rubbish and starting the fit
out. Saturday was a big day and Michael managed to help Bill Bradshaw re-rig
the yacht and replace the life-lines. Michael left the marina and the yacht
early that afternoon, intent on having a quick, refreshing swim at the creek
near his parent’s house. Michael had just stopped in his car park and turned
off the motor, when he heard a voice call out.

“Hi there stranger,
I haven’t seen you for a long time.”

He turned around
and was surprised who the voice belonged to. Sharon had on a short skirt and a
singlet top on which showed her breasts very nicely.

“Hi” he said. “What
brings you up here?”

“I was just passing
by and I decided to drop in” she replied, flashing him her sweet smile.

“I was just about
to go down to the creek for a swim. Do you want to come down with me?” Michael
asked, removing his towel and climbing out of the car.

“I’d love to go
with you, but just let me get a towel” she said.

Michael watched
Sharon’s shapely form walk over to her car, remove a bag and quickly walk back
to where he was standing. Michael’s parents lived on twenty acres of land,
which backed onto a secluded part of the Rollingstone creek. They walked
together along the track, but he was unsure what Sharon’s real intentions were.
The reflection of the mountain and the trees in the water’s surface was
fantastic and the fresh water was so clear. The sun was still very high as it
was only about 3 in the afternoon, so they found a nice clearing by the water’s
edge to leave their clothes. Michael stripped down to his board shorts and he
was walking around in the shallows to test the temperature of the water, when
he heard a squeal. He turned around quickly and witnessed Sharon running into
the water in just her white panties. As she hit the water she continued running
and dived in, completely submerging herself. Michael watched as she swam over
to where Michael was standing and stood up in the shallows, breathing deeply as
the water was colder than she expected. Her nipples were sticking out and Michael
could just make out the small darker triangle of hair through her panties,
which had gone almost see through.

“Are you coming in
for a swim?” She said with her hands of her hips and her long blond hair
cascading over her shoulders.

He couldn’t refuse
her invitation, so he jumped into the water, splashing her. They came together
for a kiss and she clung onto him shivering. Michael could feel her nipples
poking into his chest. He could also feel his manhood coming to life as she gently
rubbed her crutch against him.

“Feeling ok” she
said with an odd grin knowing the effect she was having on him. Sharon continued
grinding her hips in a circular motion as she felt his erection grow. Michael
knew she was enjoying it too as the look on her face was starting to change and
she was breathing differently. Suddenly she started to move her hands down his
body, grabbed the top of his shorts and pulled them down. She pushed Michael
over backwards to expose his shorts, which were down by his ankles. Sharon was
pointing and laughing at his erection as she walked back out of the water. Once
Michael had righted himself, he pulled up his shorts and left the water to find
Sharon sitting on a log still laughing while she pulled on her top.

“That was so funny”
she said to him. “That's not what you were expected, was it?” Michael could not
help but laugh along with her.

“No it wasn't” he
replied.

Michael looked
round to see if anyone was around. He then looked over as Sharon slowly pulled
up her shirt while looking him in the eye still grinning. Once she had pulled
it up then she slowly tugged her wet panties down, pushed them to the ground
before stepping out and bending over to pick them up. Then she stepped into her
skirt, tugged it up and then buttoned it in place

“Still feeling
horny are you?” she giggled.

She came over to
Michael; her breasts and nipples clearly visible through her top which was now
damp because she had put in on while she was wet. It was clinging to her skin
in just the right places. She took Michael’s hand, grabbed her bag, turned and
started heading back towards his house. When the two of them arrived she
grabbed him and gave him a big kiss.

“Let's go inside
and you can get me a drink” she said.

Michael lived in
the shed, which was actually the place his family lived in while the main house
was being built. It had one main bedroom now, a lounge and dining area and a
bathroom.

He turned the
ceiling fan on and prepared the drinks while Sharon sat on the old couch.

“This breeze is
making my nipples stand out even more." She whispered as she motioned with
her head down at her breasts.

She then started to
rub her herself under her skirt while looking at him straight in the eye.
Sharon was laughing at the erection that was tenting his shorts, before she
started tug his shorts down to his ankles. Suddenly she stood up and kissed him
passionately. She lifted her skirt so his throbbing cock could push gently on
her clitoris. She closed her eyes and then started grinding her hips gently on
it. Michael could feel her heat seeping out of her. Luckily the curtains were
drawn, because he knew his parents were home. Thank god she soon stopped her
grinding and opened her eyes. She looked at him and Michael saw that her face
was so flushed from being turned by what she was doing. She gently stepped back
a small pace ever so slowly letting his cock spring out from between her legs.
She squatted down, kissed his penis and removed his shorts from around his
ankles. Then she pulled her top off and dropped it down next to his shorts. She
stood up and they kissed some more before Sharon pulled his t-shirt up and over
his head so he was naked. Michael knelt down and undone her skirt and he could
see all her wetness on the inside of her legs. He eased her legs apart a bit
more and gently used his tongue to probe at the entrance to her love tunnel. He
licked along her lips before switching his attention to clit where he gently
nibbled it. Her hips were moving forward and back a little bit as he did so and
soon she climaxed. Michael knew she wanted more, because soon enough she pushed
him away, encouraged him to stand up and took his hand. They walked into his
bedroom together where they made love.

The two of them
were just lying there when he heard her start to giggle gently and he turned
his head and looked at her. She was looking back at him giggling, soon they
were both laughing. The two of them lay there for about half an hour before
Sharon said she had to be going home. She kissed Michael passionately, before
she put on her skirt and top while he got dressed. She still had very hard
nipples and kept rubbing them to keep them pointing nicely.

“I really have to
go” she whispered. “Walk out with me.”

Michael walked out
to her car with her where they kissed again.

“See you around,
Michael” she said, not wanting to commit to a relationship.

“Yeah, see you
around” he whispered as she hopped in her car and drove away.

The afternoon of
sex had been wonderful, if not unexpected, but it made him wish he had a
full-time girlfriend. Michael had already decided to quit his job once the yacht
was completed and begin his search for his brown-skinned princess.

* * *

Two weeks’ later
Michael had completed everything, including the galley sink, and his friend was
ready to lower Taylor Maid into the water. Arthur had wheeled himself out of
his shop for the last time to witness the scene. Michael noticed him shed a
tear as his beloved yacht was finally launched, something he could never
achieve. Geoff and another marina roustabout were on board as the yacht floated
majestically, before he started the diesel motor and steered the yacht over to
the public jetty. Michael said goodbye to Arthur, who had almost treated him as
his son during the last few weeks, and then strolled down to the jetty to board
his yacht. The worker cast off their lines and Geoff reversed the yacht away
from the jetty, before he motored around the sea wall and out into the bay.
They were going to head for Herald Island for the night, before continuing onto
Rollingstone Creek.

“It’s your yacht,
so you take the helm” he suggested. “I’ll raise the sails.”

Michael pointed
into the slight breeze while the motor was still powering them forwards and
then Geoff raised the main before he unfurled the Genoa.

“Cut the motor and
we’ll see how she sails” he said enthusiastically.

As Arthur promised,
Tailor Maid
sailed majestically on the light south-easterly breeze. The
yacht cleared the harbour entrance and steered for the easterly tip of Magnetic
Island. The light breeze was fluky and it shifted back and forth from the
south-east to the south and this made the trimming of the sails difficult.
Further out into the bay the breeze swung steadily in from the south
south-east, which allowed Michael to set the autopilot.

* * *

“What do you think
of my yacht?” he asked Geoff as they settled down with a cold beer.

“It sails well, but
you’ll have to do something about the leak” he said.

Michael knew he was
joking, so he retaliated with, “You’re the expert, so I think you should dive
down and take a look when we reach Herald.”

“Nah, it’ll be
alright until we reach Balgal Beach” he laughed.

The two of them talked
about Michael’s plans to sail to Indonesia and then onto Asia. Geoff was
willing to come with him for the first four weeks, but then he had to return to
work. They could probably make it to Darwin in that time and then Michael would
consider all his options after that.