Our course was roughly 135 degrees with a long haul out of sight of land from the water's surface. If someone went up the mast then maybe they would see the mainland for much longer. But sending someone up the mast on a Bosons' chair was not easy out at sea and certainly not pleasant.
The boat had lots of wizardry on board, GPS twice, Electronic charts and Autopilot. It had a super 4 cylinder diesel engine and a smaller but adequate diesel generator, enough to make cooking and lighting easy and comfortable. It ran a large chest freezer and a fridge and also a small but very useful fresh water maker. This turned sea water into fresh water, enough to use for drinking but not for any other purpose.
The first day at sea went well enough with Guy making a shrimp and crab salad for lunch. He told me he was doing the perishables first while they were nice and fresh and then the more boring stuff later. I suggested that we tidy the whole boat, it wasn't filthy but it wasn't in tip-top condition and I wanted to sail into Hamilton Harbour gleaming and pristine.
About 2 in the afternoon the satellite phone rang and I went into the chart position to take the call.
"Hi Sir Frank, yes ....., yes....., yes all's fine here maybe another 2.5 days for Bermuda."
He was checking that we had actually started and wanted some idea of our progress. He made it clear to me that he really wasn't checking up on me, it was just that he liked to keep up to speed with what was happening.
"Ok, yes .... no problem. Thank you for asking, ..... I will, bye bye."
I put the phone carefully back on its charging station, which had a spring clip to hold it firm while the boat rolled and twisted.
"Ok listen up, Sir Frank sends his best wishes to us all and his message is 'be careful' as he always says."
The message was met with smiles and Sheila seemed to get a new lease of life scrubbing away at the fore deck. She was trying to get something off the deck and I went forward to take a look.
"That's a natural stain in the Teak plank, " I said as she started to scrub even harder "leave it and treat it with that rubbing oil when it dries out."
"Ok" she replied and gave me a cheery smile.
The others were all busy with Dave at the helm and Lisa polishing the stanchions. I went down to the chart table and got out the ships logbook. I filled out the morning entry with all the usual stuff, course, sea state, wind and anything noted as I saw it. I didn't like the "chatty" style of Logbook, I liked the simple straight workmanlike style. I was fiddling with the seat height twisting and spinning it until suddenly the seat dropped about a foot and I fell backwards onto the companionway.
I picked myself up, feeling foolish and stupid all at the same time. The seat was a single pedestal type and the rise and fall lever was stiff and unused. I searched in the chart table cupboard for some light machine oil but couldn't find any.
"Interesting position," said Guy cheekily " Can I give you a hand?"
"Erm, no thanks. Have you seen a small squeezy can of oil?"
"I have one in my toilet bag." he answered.
"Guy, I am talking machine oil, not baby oil!"
"Sorry," he responded "there's one in the tool rack near the engine though, shall I get it for you?"
"Yes please."
He came back and handed me the oil and I lubricated the handle and I looked whether or not I should also do the seat stem while I was here, 'Oh why not!' I said to myself and squirted some on the stem.
I moved the lever and the seat pulled up higher. I swung the seat round and sat on it with my feet on the step ring, it almost immediately sunk to the very bottom of its travel. I pulled the lever again and stood up and the seat rose to its full height. Sitting down again the seat sunk to the lowest position.
"Damn, damn, damn," I said " I shouldn't have oiled the stem."
"Nope you shouldnt," said Guy " just the lever."
"Ok ok. " I said, waving my hand at him to go away.
It was a silly mistake and now I would have to take the stem apart to take all the oil off, clean it and re-assemble it. I got a selection of tools from the engine space and started to take the thing apart.
An hour and a half later with the whole thing in 50 parts I started to clean the rubber O rings and the stem with detergent and I soaked the O rings in the detergent solution. I reassembled it and set the lever and the seat rose higher and I sat on it to test it out. It immediately started to slowly sink back down again.
"Damn and more damn." I said
"Do you want an ice cold drink?" Guy said.
"Yes please, orange or something like that please."
Guy returned shortly with a heavy glass full of ice and orange, delicious.
I decided that perhaps I should ring ahead to Hamilton and ask a marine engineer what the best way of fixing it should be. 20 Minutes on the phone gave me an answer I hadn't expected. Oiling the stem had ruined the O rings and the engineer had taken the make, model and serial number of the seat and would have a new set of parts waiting for me when we arrived.
This would teach me a lesson to be more careful.
Guy was in his ultra small shorts, more like swimming shorts, no T shirt and for the first time I could see the muscles rippling on his back as he moved about the cabin. The whole boat interior shone and sparkled as though it were just out of the factory. I packed the tools away into the cantilever box and lugged it into the engine space. I put the rags and other bits and pieces into the bottom of the chart cupboard and felt totally deflated by what had been a thoroughly wasted 2.5 hours. I sat on the seat and as it slowly descended downwards I chuckled to myself.
"I know what you are laughing at," said Guy" your wasted efforts eh?"
"Too true." I answered.
Guy stepped towards me and put his arm round my shoulders. The heat of his body surprised me as he pulled me close into him, our bare body's slipping together with the sweat. I felt good and I didn't pull away. His right hand was stroking my right thigh and it moved higher up my leg and onto my shorts to get a feel of my semi hard cock. He squeezed it and gently massaged it through the thin cotton cloth. I was aware that we were being watched by Lisa who was on the stern rail polishing away. Guy had a good grip of my now ever increasing cock and flicked it upright through the material. His hand released it and slipped, as if by magic, under my waistband and down through the thin line of pubic hair and took a firm hold on it again.
He tugged and stretched the tight skin up and down and slipped my foreskin up and down over the ever hardening mushroom head.