Carol Simony, CEO of the Choplet-LaSalle Corporation and the richest woman in the USA, strode out of the Manila office building and across the sidewalk inside a wedge formed by her bodyguards; she ignored the cries of protest from the pedestrians who were jostled out of the way by her phalanx of thugs. So sure was she that her limo would be waiting that she was at the curb before she noticed it wasn't there.
She turned to the sweating young man who dogged her steps. "Donald, you putz! Where the hell is my limo?"
Donald pointed at a large vehicle a half-block away. "There it is, Ms. Simony. It must have gotten stuck in traffic."
"Not good enough, Donald. You said it would be waiting for me right here. If I can't count on you for a simple thing like this you're no use to me."
He protested, "I'm sorry, Ms. Simony, but this isn't my fault, it's just a slight traffic delay."
"Don't whine, Donald. I expect results, not excuses. You really are worthless. You can take a bus back to the hotel, I don't want to be seen with you."
The limo stopped and she got inside. The bodyguard in the front seat exchanged glances with the driver, but neither man was surprised at Carol's actions. Carol wasn't very lovable. The only people who really liked her were the C-L stockholders, because it was her management that had made the company so very profitable.
Carol tried to relax as the limo fought its way through the city traffic. She had been in Manila to close the negotiations for another merger, and it had been a tense time, even for an experienced predator such as she. C-L wasn't the only player, and she had had to outmaneuver, backstab, and betray men from three continents before she could close the deal.
The limo picked up speed once it was outside the city. It continued along the highway until it reached a private airfield, where Carol boarded the executive jet that would take her almost 700 miles to Davao City, on the island of Mindanao. This was where she would start her vacation.
Sailing was Carol's only non-business activity. She begrudged the time away from her work, but she had found that sailing was absolutely necessary if she hoped to survive the stress of corporate warfare. Several weeks at sea, sailing alone, would refresh her and leave her ready for the next battle.
Being at sea was only part of the process; being far away from other people was the most important factor. Not that she would be out of touch; a satellite phone kept her in contact with her staff. 'Sometimes in closer contact than they like,' she thought, 'noon here may be the middle of the night there. Too bad for them, but at C-L I'm the one who matters.'
Carol spent the night in the best hotel in Davao, and early the next morning she was at the marina where her boat, the 'C-L II', waited. This boat was her favorite for single-handed sailing; its ketch rig divided the sail area into easily handled segments. The boat was just over fifty feet long on the waterline. It had cost her over three million dollars (actually, C-L paid the bill), and it was equipped with every convenience, both for operating the boat and for living aboard.
She met with the C-L employee who had accompanied the boat on its trip by freighter from San Francisco. (The freight charges were billed to the C-L 'employee recreation' account.)
"Everything ready to go?" she snapped.
"Yes, Ms. Simony. You can sail any time you wish."
"So you say." Carol never took anything for granted, and she conducted a meticulous inspection of the boat and its contents. She was impressed; even her exacting standards were met. Not that she would say so, of course.
"It'll do. Get ashore and be ready to cast off the mooring lines. I'm out of here." She started the auxiliary diesel engine and ordered the lines cast off. She motored out of the harbor, and once she was clear of the land she hoisted the sails. She plotted the course that would clear Cape San Augustine, and then lost herself in the simple pleasure of steering the boat and adjusting the sails. For the first time in months she felt some serenity.
Once the boat passed the cape Carol plotted a new course to the east, heading into the center of Micronesia. Even though this was her vacation she spent most of her time working; she planned her next business coup while the autopilot guided the boat. She had her eye on another large electronics firm. She had discovered that there was a large overlap in operations that would allow massive cost-cutting.
Carol was an experienced sailor, and she monitored the boat and its surroundings continually. Ten days into her journey she noticed that a tropical depression had appeared on her satellite weather display. It was coming her way, but she wasn't worried. "I can handle anything the sea can throw at me." she boasted.
Three days later she wasn't so sure. The tropical depression had developed into a full-fledged storm, and the boat was running downwind under bare poles. The wind was Force Twelve, and the mast-tall waves towered over the boat. Carol no longer knew where she was exactly; a few hours ago the wind had destroyed her masthead antennas, and the heavy rain and breaking seas blocked her GPS and satellite communications. She was really worried now. There were numerous atolls to leeward of her, and she had very little ability to maneuver.
Disaster struck just before dawn. Carol had been awake for almost two days,and she finally had to go below for some sleep. She had been asleep for just over an hour when the boat struck a reef. She had no warning; she woke with the impact, and before she was out of her bunk the surging waves pounded the boat's hull onto the coral and water flooded inside. She scrambled on deck, and was shocked to discover that both the dinghy and the inflatable life raft had washed away. All she could do was wait helplessly while the waves drove the boat across the reef and into the lagoon, where she knew it would sink.
Carol didn't know when the boat finally slipped off the reef and into the lagoon. One minute she was struggling just to keep from being washed off the boat; the next minute she was in the water. She was wearing a life jacket, but the wind was so strong and the water was so rough that she could barely breathe. She tried to fight her way to the island that she had seen when the boat first hit the reef, but the sea was winning the contest. She had stopped fighting by the time strong brown arms lifted her out of the water and into a canoe.
* * *
It was dawn of the next day before Carol awoke. She found herself in a wooden hut, supine on a mat and looking up at a corrugated-steel roof. Rain was still pounding on the roof, but the wind had dropped; the mat that covered the door opening was hardly moving. Her muscles were a bit sore, but she didn't have any pain. She sat up and examined her body. She was surprised but grateful to find that she was uninjured. She was also naked. She thought back and realized that she had been naked when she went into the water. Not too surprising, since she rarely wore clothes when she was at sea in the tropics.
The door mat was pushed aside and a young woman entered the hut. She was very pretty, with tan skin, dark brown eyes, and long black hair. She was wearing a blue and red printed cloth wrapped around her hips and, incongruously, a hooded transparent plastic raincoat, which didn't conceal her slim, shapely figure and high, firm breasts.
Carol looked at the native woman and then at her own tanned body. She smugly thought, 'I must be more than twenty years older than she is, but I could match her in looks.' She ran her hands through her short brown hair. 'Except for the hair, maybe.'
