Catamaran Confusion

I'd never vacationed alone, but that's what I needed now. My girlfriend had split, don't ask me why, I'd just sent two complicated proposals off to clients for them to think about for a week, and I was tired of the snow, slush, and gray skies of winter. Tired, too, of watching girls bundled up in woolen slacks and overcoats with their hoods. I wanted to go someplace warm, with girls dressed much more sparingly, and with nobody to explain anything to. Yeah, a vacation alone would suit me just fine.

The internet to the rescue. Google led me to one of those last-minute-vacation sites and after a half-hour of poking around, I found a one-week cruise on a catamaran out of the Dutch side of St. Maarten. Way out in the Caribbean, but the deal looked good so I booked it. More clicking and I had a flight from Boston, by way of Atlanta. Did I say way out? It had me leaving Boston at 11 PM, arriving in Atlanta in the middle of the night, then leaving at 9 AM for 4 more hours to Phillipsburg. With the boat leaving at four, that got me there with plenty of time to spare.

The only good thing about the flight time was that it gave me all day Friday to pack up. I'd be on the boat in a day-and-a-half!

Well, of course, it didn't work out that way. My flight left closer to 1 AM, delayed by thunderstorms (at night?) around Atlanta, and then the connecting flight had to wait for another crew. Too much time in the air, FAA regulations, mandatory rest. Looked like I'd get to Philipsburg about 6 PM, literally missing the boat.

I called the charter company and got lucky. They didn't have to do it, but they agreed to put me on a boat leaving on Sunday. Some other group had chartered it with an open cabin, and I could take it if I didn't mind sailing with a bunch of strangers. Didn't matter to me, since that's what I was doing anyway.

Well, you don't need the details, but another screwup in Atlanta delayed things even more, so I got to Philipsburg around 6 AM on Sunday pretty much a wreck. I hadn't really slept since Thursday night. With the airport empty, I zipped through customs and immigration, got into a waiting cab, and found myself on the dock, next to two boats, one of which was probably mine.

Nobody around, but after banging on the office door, a kid, who'd apparently been sleeping, finally opened it.

"I'm Taylor Briggs," I said. "I'm on one of today's charters. I called. Somebody said I could switch to today's, after missing yesterday's." I realized I was barely making sense, but that was the best I could do.

"Leave four in afternoon," said the kid. At least he spoke English.

"Yeah, I know. But anyway I could board now? I haven't slept."

"Now? No buddy there."

"OK, but can I just sack out?" Whoops. "I mean, just sleep on the boat anyway?"

The kid looked at me, then back into the office. He wanted to sleep as much as I did. "OK. Not touch anything. Boat is Joy Ride. Wait." He went to a desk in the corner and started to look through some papers. "Cabin 3. Not touch anything."

"Thank you!" I yelled back as I ran to the boat. I found a short ladder down from the saloon, and there was cabin 3. Not hard to find, since there were only four in all.

I dropped my bag, took off my shoes, climbed onto the bed, and must have fallen asleep instantly.

* * *

I woke up to the whole cabin vibrating. Where was I? Oh yeah, on a boat. The vibrations were from the engine. My phone said it was 4:40 PM. I'd slept all day!

It was hot as hell in that cabin, and the clothes I'd slept in were drenched in sweat. I got them off, put on a bathing suit and a T-shirt, and climbed into the saloon, which was empty, but I heard voices outside. I went up a couple of steps and out onto the rear deck and found myself in front of a table with benches all around. On the benches were three gorgeous girls. They were having some kind of blue cocktail, but their talking and drinking stopped when they saw me.

"A man?" I'm not sure which one said it. Maybe two of them at the same time. It was a very odd greeting.

"Yeah. I am a man." I didn't know what else to say. "I'm Taylor. I've been sleeping all day I guess." We were going at a pretty good clip, just clearing the harbor. "It seems we're underway."

"I thought Taylor was a girl's name," said one of the blondes.

"It's a man's name, too," I said. Defending my gender and name was ridiculous. Why were they so concerned with my gender?

"We're sorry," said the girl in the middle, finally realizing how awkward things were. "No way to welcome you. I'm Christy. This is Wendy and Gail." She smiled, showing perfect teeth.

"I'm Wendy," said the blonde to my left, next to the wheel. "That's Gail over there." She giggled.

"And, sorry to say it, apologies all around, but I'm still Taylor." With some sleep, I was able to be clever again.

The girls laughed. "Let's start over, please," said Wendy. "It's just that the four of us booked a private cruise, Ellen couldn't make it, so we asked them to book another girl if they could. Then you popped out, and took us by surprise."

That sort of made sense. "I forgive you," I said. "What say you make room for a man, pass me a glass, and I'll have some of that blue whatever-it-is."

"Blue Hawaii, mostly rum," said Wendy, sliding over so I could join them on the bench. "And you're probably hungry, right?" She passed the chips and salsa.

I'd been so fixated on the girls that I didn't notice another woman at the wheel. "Hello," I said, turning to her.

"I'm Dominique," she said, not taking her eyes from the water ahead. "Captain and cook. We're not going far tonight, just to anchor outside the harbor. We'll stop for the night in a few minutes, and then I'll fix dinner."

With a few sips of Blue Hawaii and some chips and salsa, I started to feel much better. For the first time in two days, I could start to relax. I looked at the girls. My first take had been right. They were beyond beautiful. Long hair, perfect features, and, even sitting down, I could tell, despite their loose-fitting shirts, they had slender, well-toned bodies.

They were staring at me again.

"You know, you girls seem friendly enough, but I have the funny feeling I've crashed your party. Being a man and all."

Christy gave me another of her great smiles. "Yeah, you did. You crashed our party. Should we toss him over the side?"

"No, don't!" said Gail. "Let him stay!" She laughed.

"Yeah," giggled Wendy. "He can stay. Two votes to one."

"No, it's unanimous," said Christy. "Do you want to stay? You'd be sailing with all girls. Captain, too, I guess you noticed, so four total."

That was fine with me. More than fine. "OK, then, I'm stuck, I'll stay." I raised my glass. "To the girls." They raised their glasses, and the deal was struck.

Dominique cut the engines, dropped anchor, and then disappeared below, emerging a few minutes later with another pitcher of Blue Hawaii and a plate of veggies. Then she went back to the galley to make dinner.

Dinner with my new friends was a treat. They were funny, in addition to being beautiful and sexy. And, smart, too. Wendy and Christy were law partners in Miami, and Gail was a college friend, now a radiologist in Atlanta. I waited as long as possible to tell them I was a structural engineer, but no problem. Didn't bother them at all.

After dinner, they found a bottle of Irish whiskey in one of the galley cabinets. I had a glass with them but then decided to let them enjoy some girl-only time.

"I'm going to leave you gorgeous girls to yourselves now," I said, filling my glass. "See you in the morning."

"Will you still be a man?" asked Christy.

"Yeah, sorry to say."

"Then we'll have to stay clothed," said Gail.

"However you wish," I said. I knew what I wished. I stepped into the saloon so they couldn't see me getting hard.

I read awhile in my cabin, finished off my drink, and went to sleep to the sounds of distant girl talk. Dreaming of girl bodies, even though I hadn't even really seen their bodies.

Christy, Wendy, and Gail. Wendy, Gail, and Christy. Gail, Christy, and Wendy...

* * *

With all that sleep (finally!) I was up just after seven. Dominique had a pot of coffee in the saloon. I poured a cup, worked my way around to the bow, taking care not to wake the girls below my feet, and sat down on the trampoline between the hulls. I emptied my cup, went back for more, and resumed my position, staring off into the water and watching the low sunlight bouncing off of the waves.

"Good morning!" I turned to a backlit vision of ultimate beauty. It was Gail. Wearing a bikini that had maybe six square inches of fabric. Two triangles covering her nipples, and another at her crotch. Long legs, a flat midsection, long hair waving in the light breeze.

"Good morning, Gail. Sleep well?"

"I did," she said. "Where's the coffee?"

"You must have passed it," I said. "In the saloon."

She came back with coffee, Christy and Wendy right behind. Their bikinis were as brief as Gail's, and their bodies equally great. No, Wendy's was greater. As slim as the others, but more defined. She worked out or maybe was a runner.

They sat down right next to me.

"Do you know when breakfast is?" asked Christy.

I was no longer the new guy. As the first riser, I was assumed to know things. "No idea," I answered. "When Dominique says so, I imagine."

"I imagine that, too," stated Wendy, with a laugh.

"Which brings up an issue," said Gail, looking serious. "We might as well come clean. We booked this as an all-girls cruise because we want to be nude. Which we don't want to just imagine."

"And with a man aboard you can't," I said, trying to complete her thought.

"We can too!" said Christy. "But we talked about it, and we think it's only proper to ask your permission first."

This was too good. These unbelievable creatures were asking permission to be nude. How should I play this? "What makes you think I like girls to be nude?" I smiled, trying to make it look boyish, not creepy.

"Oh, we're sorry," giggled Wendy. "You don't?"

"OK, well, I don't. But, as I'm the one who ruined your vacation, I'll play along. You can be nude."

The girls laughed.

"No, not nude," said Christy. "We don't even know you! But, after breakfast, we're going to be topless." She hooked a finger between her breasts and gently pulled on her top. "We're mostly there already."

"OK, then, I'll be topless, too," I said. "In fact, I'll start." The sun had risen enough to warm things up. I took off my shirt.

"Sexy!" said Gail. She reached over and started playing with my chest hair.

Just then Dominique called out through the galley window that was just behind where we were sitting. We stepped carefully around to the stern where the table was set with a sumptuous breakfast: muffins, scrambled eggs, sausage, sliced mango, freshly-squeezed orange juice.

I started to put my shirt on as I slid onto the bench. "No, keep it off," said Gail. The girls smiled, and I'm pretty sure Christy winked.

After breakfast, the girls disappeared into their cabins. Dominique cleared the table, cleaned up in the galley, raised anchor, and fired up the engine.

"Any sailing today?" I asked as she took the wheel.

"Maybe later," she said. "We want to try to make Grand Case by early afternoon. The wind may have other ideas."

* * *

With the boat underway, the girls came up the steps from the saloon with towels and sunscreen and made their way to the trampoline. I couldn't see much from the stern, but, looking through the saloon, I could see them removing their tops, as promised. Then they disappeared from view as they lay down. Three topless beauties stretched out on towels, I imagined.

I went down below to get my book and returned to my seat next to Dominique and got lost in the story.

Suddenly Christy appeared. I looked up. She looked good before, but now, topless, her appearance was astounding.

"You don't have to stay here, Taylor," she said. "Come sit with us."

"Wendy and Gail won't mind?" I asked.

"Of course not," she said. "We wouldn't be topless if we didn't want you to see us." She placed her hands under her breasts to push them up. "You like?"

I struggled for something clever to say, but clever wasn't what I wanted to be just then. "Of course I do," I said dumbly. And even more dumbly: "I love your breasts."

"Me, too," said Christy, as she bent her head and licked her left nipple. Then her right. She looked up and smiled. "Follow me."

I followed her along the side of the boat to the trampoline, with a great view of her exposed ass. I sat down with the girls. Wearing only their tiny bottoms, they were practically nude.

"I told Taylor to come sit with us," explained Christy.

"Absolutely," said Wendy. She was leaning on her hands, chest thrust forward.

"Where else?" asked Gail, squeezing her breasts. "Nice chest, Taylor," she giggled.

"Yours is nicer," I said, laughing. I was in heaven.

That broke the ice. The rest of the day, through lunch, the girls stayed topless. The alcohol flowed, and somehow the time flew by. Before we knew it Dominique had sailed into Grand Case harbor and cut the engine. She dropped anchor, and we were done sailing for the day. Did we actually sail? I don't think we did, but, really, I couldn't have said. Too much else to look at.

"Um... we're going to get dressed to go ashore," said Gail. "You want to come with us? Most men don't like to go into jewelry and dress shops. You don't have to, you know."

"I'll come ashore and do some photography," I said. "You want to meet up in a couple of hours? How about there, that place with the yellow roof?" I was pointing to a bar on the water's edge, where the tables went right down to the sand. I didn't know the spot, but the people there looked like they were having a good time.

The girls agreed. We changed, I got my camera, and Dominique took us ashore in the dinghy.

"I'll pick you up over there about six," said Dominique, pointing to a nearby dock. "I need to get some supplies, and I need to dock to do that. Any of you have a watch?"

Wendy and I said we did, so Dominique waved and took off back to the boat.

"OK, well, we're off shopping," said Gail. She looked at the yellow-roofed building. "It's called the White Wave, near as I can tell. See you there at, say, 3:30?"

I nodded and took off towards the marina. The girls went the other way, towards the shops.

* * *

When the girls showed up at the White Wave's beach-side bar, I was already seated at a picnic table right at the water's edge. In fact, my feet were in the surf.

"Hey, Taylor," said Christy.

"Yo, it's that man again!" giggled Wendy.

"Hiya, Mr.," said Gail.

"First round's on me, girls," I said, motioning to the bikini-clad waitress. "How was shopping?"

"Aw, you don't give a fuck," said Wendy. For some reason, that was hilarious, and we all started laughing.

"No, I really do," I managed to squeeze out.

"Well, we can't tell you," said Christy. "We bought intimate apparel. You can't see us in underwear. We don't even want you to know we have underwear."

"Near as I can tell, you don't own any," I said. "What'd you pack your stuff in, a quart bottle?"

"No, carry-ons," said Gail. "We like to dress up."

"In Grand Case?" I asked.

"Well, maybe not Grand Case," said Gail. The waitress arrived and we ordered beers.

"Get any photos?" asked Christy. "Can I see?"

I turned on my camera, pressed the preview button, and passed it to her. She took the camera, switched off the preview, and stepped back to take a photo of us all.

"You know cameras," I said.

"Yup. I have a micro four-thirds, too. Like yours, but a Panasonic. More of a rangefinder style. I'll let you try my fisheye. Great for shots on the boat."

Wendy and Gail were looking at us strangely.

"Sorry," I said. "Christy and I were geeking."

"Sounds sexy," said Wendy. "I'm getting wet just listening."

The beers arrived. Christy took one and pretended to pour it on Wendy, who jumped off of her chair.

"Just trying to cover up your wetness, darling," said Christy. It looked like the girls were starting to really relax and behave like, well, girls behave when no guy's around. I felt strangely out of place and very much included at the same time.

We kept up the joking through two more rounds, and then Wendy looked at her watch and shrieked. "It's 6:10!"

I paid the whole bill, all three rounds and the snacks with a couple of American tens, which I hoped would be OK, and we ran out of the bar towards to dock. Fortunately, Dominique was still loading supplies. We helped with the last couple of boxes and then climbed down into the dinghy, sitting where we could among the cargo.

Back on the boat, we brought up the boxes and handed them down to Dominique, who had opened a hatch in the stern and lowered herself into some sort of storeroom. The double-hulled boat was full of all sorts of hidden spaces like that.

Then Dominique fixed us another pitcher of something green, which Wendy identified as a Leprechaun. We'd already had multiple beers, but, on a boat, there's always room for more! There was also a plate of really tasty appetizers, with shrimp and sausages. I couldn't figure out when Dominique had done all that, but we were so glad she had.

We talked, laughed, joked, and teased through cocktail hour and dinner, and then some more over the remainder of the Irish whiskey from last night, and another bottle of gin from the same cabinet. I couldn't tell if I was becoming great friends with girls, or if it was just a boat thing. Who cares?

We got off to bed around one, and I slept like a baby.

* * *

I was awakened by footsteps on the ceiling. That turned out to be Gail, who was making her way to the trampoline with her morning coffee. Two more sets of footsteps followed. I wondered how the girls were able to synchronize things so well. I thought I'd better sync up, too, so I washed up a little, put on my bathing suit, skipping my shirt, and climbed up to the saloon. I filled a cup with coffee and went to join the girls.

"Good morning, Taylor," they said, more-or-less in unison.

"Morning, girls. Another fine day!"

"Is it your birthday?" asked Wendy.

Strange question, but I was getting used to their silliness. "No, not today," I responded.

"Christmas?"

"No. A few hundred more shopping days."

"Well, then why did we get you a present?" asked Christy.

"No idea," I said. "Did you? Why did you?"

"We were confused," said Gail. "Should we give it to him anyway?"

Christy and Wendy both nodded, so Gail gave me the package, somewhat sloppily wrapped in a paper bag. "Don't open it yet," she said. "It something to wear after breakfast."

"We wanted you to feel more comfortable hanging out with us," said Gail. "We're half nude, and you're wearing regular man clothes, so we were thinking you felt out of place. We found this on our shopping trip. Don't open it!"

"OK, OK, I won't open it," I said. "After breakfast, right?"

"Yeah, after breakfast. Then put it on, and meet us on the trampoline."

I knew what it was already. "It's a stupid T-shirt, right?"

"Why would we want you in a T-shirt?" asked Wendy. "It's not. And it's not furry socks, either. Stop guessing! Just put it on after breakfast."

She sounded really insistent. I tucked the gift along the side and went back to my coffee, but just then Dominique called, so we all went back to the stern, me carrying my gift.

Breakfast over, I asked, "Should I open my present?"

"Yeah, go ahead," said Christy.

I ripped the bag open and took out some sort of elastic strap, with some stretchy cloth attached. I had no idea what it was. I unfolded the cloth, and then I knew. I looked at the girls, who were trying to hold back giggles. "I don't know what you call it," I said, "but it some sort of male g-string thing."