It was a beautiful warm sunny day -- well, hot actually -- though the stiff on-shore breeze blowing up from the south made the heat tolerable. Otherwise, it was a perfect day for sailing.
I sat at the wheel of my sailboat, named Felicity, which my wife, Karen, always insisted on calling a "yacht" because it was just over thirty feet in length. Karen wasn't on board with me.
At the last minute on Friday, her boss had asked Karen to fly to Boston for a crucial project and he needed Karen to meet with the proposal team early Sunday -- today -- so she'd flown out last evening. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have considered going out for a sail without Karen as my crew, but, over a week ago she had promised her favorite niece, Samantha, that Sam could come sailing with us this week end. Sam had been begging Karen all summer to go out on the boat with us.
Before Karen left for Boston she reminded me about taking Sam out sailing.
"Dear, just call Sam and tell her she can come out with us next week end." I suggested to Karen.
"No good. My brother and Sara are driving her up for freshman orientation Thursday. Sam's been after me all summer to go out and since last Wednesday was Sam's eighteenth birthday, I promised her as a birthday present that she absolutely could come with us this week end. So, you'll have to take her out yourself."
Sam was not only Karen's favorite niece, she was more like our third daughter since she'd spent so much time at our house before our girls flew the coop, so to speak. I liked Sam a lot, but I knew she would be pretty useless on the boat. She had often come out sailing with our family in the past whenever our girls would go sailing with Karen and I. But Sam had never shown one bit of interest in helping out operating the sailboat or learning how to sail; she and my daughters had been more inclined to sunbath, listen to rap music and giggle with each other over whatever whispered secrets they shared. Typical teenagers I supposed.
So, it meant I'd be without a crew, that is to say, Karen. I would, in essence, be sailing Felicity by myself.
"Damn. Well, alright ... if you promised."
"Sara said she'll drop Sam here Sunday morning by nine."
So there I was, on Sunday, motoring out of the marina, and I needed to get the sails up. I yelled down to Sam, who was below in the cabin changing. I asked if she could come up on deck and give me a hand. If she could take the wheel while we were still motoring, I could get the sails up in just a few minutes, then take the wheel again and Sam could sunbath; which was about all I was expecting of her during our sail.
"I'll be right up, Uncle John, I'm just getting changed."
A moment later she popped up through the companion way in a rather skimpy bikini -- fairly typical of what she and my girls had usually worn when on the boat. Sam's build was just about perfect for a bikini. I guessed her to be about five six since she was about the same height as my youngest and Sam was probably not more than a hundred and twenty pounds. Nicely proportioned, with ample, but not overly large boobs. I caught myself looking at her for the first time, not as my daughters' almost constant companion, but as a mature young woman -- and not at all bad looking, at that. When I felt an inappropriate stirring in my groin I forced myself to look away.
"Sam, I need you to take the wheel while I hoist the sails."
"Oh geez, Uncle John, I don't know what to do ... I never ..."
"Don't worry; it's a piece of cake. Come around behind the wheel and just steer it like a car." I said as she came around to stand behind the binnacle on which the boat's steering wheel was mounted.
"Just keep the bow aimed at that buoy." I said as I pointed to the red navigational aid several miles dead ahead.
"Bow?" Sam asked.
"The pointy end of the boat." I answered, with exasperation.
"Oh, OK. But don't be too long ... this makes me nervous, Uncle John."
"Sam. You're an adult now ... just call me John ... Uncle makes me sound ... I don't know ... old, I guess." And I gave Sam a smile.
As I was retrieving the wench handle that I always stowed in the lazarette located just behind the steering station, when I noticed the back of Sam's bikini for the first time. I was a bit shocked to discover that it was a thong bikini - a mere string running down into the crack between her very alluring cheeks. Sam had never worn such a thing when she was younger and she had sailed with us. It made me realize that she really was an adult -- a child no longer. It also re-energized the stirrings I had suppressed a few moments before.
I quickly went up and hoisted the mainsail, unfurled the jib, and got all the lines squared away; all the while, making sure I keep my back to Sam to hide my hard-on that was diminishing, albeit, rather slowly.
"Uncle John! I mean John ... there's a boat coming! What do I do?" Sam yelled from behind the wheel.
I looked back at her and saw her pointing to starboard where another sloop was indeed headed in our general direction. In a few seconds, I determined we were not on a collision course.
"It's OK. Just hold your course. -- point her at the buoy." I yelled over the sound of the waves slapping the hull and the wind singing through the rigging. I headed aft and took the wheel back from Sam.
"Good job Sam." I told her. "I couldn't have gotten the sails up without you." I lied; though it did make it easier having someone at the helm while I hoisted sail.
Sam had a big grin on her face as she sat down with her back against the deck house. She wrapped her left arm around the leeward jib wench. The boat heeled nicely in the stiff breeze; Sam was on the low side and casually dipped her fingers in the warm salt water as we bounced over the waves.
"That was sort of fun, Unc ... I mean, John." She said. "I almost wish I'd paid more attention when I used to come sailing with you guys; you know, when Jenny and Amy were still at home."
"Well Sam, if you like, maybe you can take the wheel again in a little bit and see what it's like sailing her with the sails up."
"Oh could I? That would be awesome!" She said.
"Sure, but let's wait till we get a few miles offshore where there's less traffic. OK?" On week ends everyone in the area came out to sail, or motor, if the weather was good. And that Sunday was no exception.
"OK. I'm going to put some sunscreen on before the sun gets too high." With that, she went below and popped back up a moment later with her lotion.
