Chapter 8
With Astrid now onboard, Taggart's sense of humor slipped into overdrive. When he was alone with Dina he referred to the boy as 'the tripod' -- yet these little references were innocent enough. Astrid was a few years older than Rolf, so this was going to amount to an innocent 'crush' -- and nothing more -- yet, even so, the whole thing interested Taggart. Maybe because he could see echoes and elements of his own misspent youth in Rolf's reactions to the girl, or maybe what he was watching was more like a universal construct: young man sees attractive girl; young man talks constantly about his life and accomplishments; young man walks around with a banana in his shorts...
So, the Astrid situation was a net plus, at least as far as he was concerned. Only good things could come of it.
For Dina, Astrid was another matter entirely.
She was convinced the girl had decided to come in order to bag Taggart, to wrap him around her little finger and string him along. She was, in other words, cynical about the girl's motives. Taggart saw this as the inevitable 'female bullshit' that accompanied any territorial challenge like this, and so he ignored her.
Rolf moved his gear from the forepeak to the tiny, coffin-like cabin on the port side opposite the galley, and he was as happy as a clam in his new digs. What mattered now, as far as Taggart was concerned, was that Astrid was onboard. And he hoped that as far as Rolf was concerned, that would be all that mattered, too. Such is the addled mind of a teenager whose brain is basking in a sea of testosterone, or so Taggart hoped, and that Rolf's focus would move from his condition to Astrid's more than ample charms.
True to her word, Astrid brought along at least one bikini in her duffel bag, and as the summer had been, so far at least, exceptionally warm, the bikini was on full display from the very beginning of the next leg of Time Bandit's journey.
So, with his nausea under control and Taggart's next appointment already scheduled in Gothenburg, the Bandit left Oslo on a sunny July morning with the brightest prospects percolating away in Taggart's mind. Oslo proper was at the end of a long fjord so it was a fifty-mile journey to the open sea, a trip best made under power unless the winds were 'just so' -- and of course they weren't -- so Taggart laid out a course on the plotter that would keep them on the periphery of the main shipping channel as they departed the city. He engaged the autopilot and sat back, content to watch the coming fireworks with a knowing grin plastered all over his face -- because Taggart's goal for this leg of Time Bandit's voyage had changed once he measured Rolf's reaction to the girl: now, his goal was to get the kid well and truly laid.
Of course, human nature takes cues from mother nature, so more often than not the best-laid plans do oft go astray.
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Leaving the fjord and turning southeast in the Skagerrak, Taggart had been expecting more in the way of weather -- but not today. Sitting at the chart table down below, he began his latest log entry:
'Oslofjord to Kattegat, about one hundred miles to make the entry channel at Gothenburg. Noon readings: OAT: 89 degrees F, sea temp 67F, winds calm, sea state calm, mirror-like. COG 165 degrees magnetic, SOG 5.7 knots, apparent speed 6 kts. Under power, all sails furled. Yanmar now has 400 hours total time. Making approx 6 kts at 1800rpm. Water and fuel tanks on departure: full. Skagerrak is THE main shipping channel for heavy traffic into and out of the Baltic. Radar on, guard zones set at 10, 5, and 1.5 miles, alarms active. Right now we are tracking more than 20 targets on radar, plotting sheets at the wheel, DB making entries."
He went down to the galley and poured some mango juice, then went to his cabin and took his noon medications. He looked at his hands, satisfied because he hadn't had a jerking twitch in over 24 hours. No nausea, too -- and that was a welcome relief...
He found his Tilley Hat and slipped it on, then made his way topsides. Rolf was on the wheel, Dina was working a potentially troublesome radar plot, and Astrid was...?
"Where's the girl?" Taggart said as he slid onto the cockpit seat next to Dina.
"Forward," Rolf said, grinning.
Taggart stood and took a look. She was standing inside the bow pulpit, one hand on the rail, the other on the forestay, and he thought she looked rather like Ursula Andress coming out of the sea in Dr. No. The bright yellow bikini she had on was barely covering anything -- and Rolf was totally mesmerized.
'Excellent!' Taggart thought. 'Everything going to plan.'
He moved over to the wheel. "Rolf, you better go up there and make sure she doesn't slip and fall, I'll take the wheel."
"Sure!"
And he was off like a heat-seeking missile. Just like any tripod.
Dina scowled as she watched Rolf's launch. "I have never seen a bathing suit quite like that one," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the engine noise. "There's almost nothing covering her pubic hair, and those little wisps of fabric over her breasts!? One could hardly call that a bathing suit!"
Taggart looked from Astrid to Dina and back to Astrid again: "Doesn't leave much to the imagination, that's for sure. From what I can see though, you've got better tits."
"Henry! Don't speak in such vulgar terms!"
He looked at her, then looked to the bow again. "Still, her ass may be a little tighter than yours."
Dina slammed the plotting board down and stomped down the companionway.
"And the crowd goes wild!" Taggart said, holding up his hands in an imaginary 'high five.'
Rolf was pointing out ships up ahead and land features off to the left -- in Norway -- and seemed to be enjoying himself immensely -- when Dina came back up the companionway...
...wearing her idea of a bikini...
It was shiny black and didn't leave a whole lot to the imagination, either.
Taggart stared at her, then shook his head.
"What's wrong, Henry?" she said...coyly.
"The kid takes one look at you and he's gonna pop wood. Sure you want to do this?"
"His mind is elsewhere right now."
"Mine sure isn't."
"Good."
"You know, women your age aren't supposed to look this good. You're like, I don't know, perverting the laws of nature or something."
She smiled, drinking the words up like a peach daiquiri.
"Turn around, would you? I wanna check out your ass."
Her expression turned to cold stone.
"No?" he sighed. "Well, I guess we all have to know our limitations..."
That did it. She spun around.
"Well? What do you think?" she sneered.
"Looks good enough to eat."
She shook her head and sat down, picked up the plotting board and reviewed her work, then looked at the radar. "I've been plotting this target for a half hour. It's going to come close, maybe in about ten, fifteen minutes."
Taggart looked at the plot, then at the horizon. "Still too much haze to make anything out." He ran a VBL, or variable bearing line, to the target and locked on to it; the radar's computer painted the target and displayed its course and speed, as well as its point of closest approach and time to closest approach. "Too close for comfort, Dina. Let's raise the main and sheet it in, pull the traveler to starboard. I want to increase our visibility a little..."
She went to the winch and pulled the main out, then sheeted the sail flat. Once positioned where Taggart wanted it, she walked up to the bow and spoke to Rolf, then came back to the cockpit.
"What did you tell him?" he asked.
"Just that we might be making a few turns."
"Okay."
The radar alarm went off; the target was now on a collision course with them.
"Okay, that's it." He cupped his hands and called out to the two up on the bow: "Rolf! Hang on, we're turning now!" He pointed to the left then he turned hard to port, turning directly towards the shoreline, now only two miles away. When the conflict alarm turned off he turned back to their original course. "Now...let's see what they do..."
"Looks like they're altering to port, as well. Moving away from us a little now."
He relaxed. "So, wanna make a bet?"
"A bet? What about?"
"That Rolf nails her today?"
"Henry! Is that all you ever have on your mind?!"
"Pretty much. Yup."
