I was stumped as to which category to post this under. Eventually, I chose incest but it also includes group sex and romance. But ultimately it is a story about care and love. The story is centred around ocean sailing, a subject I confess to having no experience. Given that my knowledge has come from the internet, I'm sure I've made some howlers but hope they don't detract from reader's enjoyment.
Those who read my story 'Le Canal du Midi' will recognise Kelly and Liam. I enjoyed creating those characters so they reappear part way through this story.
xxxxx
My name is Jessica (or Jess but never Jessie) and my childhood was anything but normal. Before I was born, my father, Duncan, who was an airline pilot, inherited, along with his brother, my great-grandmother's farm and land. She had been born there in 1919. Of course, at that time northeast Kent was mostly farmland and villages. By 2004, it was effectively part of London. The 180 acres was sold to a property developer for £48m, roughly $61m, splitting the proceeds between them.
Down my father's family line, there was a history of infertility. Low sperm counts were common. I suppose that's the reason that there is nineteen years between the ages of my father and Uncle Tony. One odd consequence of this is that Tony, despite being my uncle, is only five years older than me.
With his share, my father bought a bunch of large houses in the Surrey commuter belt near London to rent out and a 52ft ketch called Liberty. Tony's money went into a trust fund which he was able to access when he was twenty-one. Then, he used it to buy the roofing company he worked for. For the next nineteen years, I sailed the world with my parents. In fact, I was born on the boat. Idyllic? You'd think so but seventeen years with no friends, no school and never staying in the same place for more than two weeks? That was my father's rule - keep going. It was made even worse by being an only child.
At least enough sperm penetrated my mother to produce me. Tony and my Aunt Sarah had been less lucky, though they'd been trying since their marriage four years ago. Tony had zero sperm.
Our lifestyle ended abruptly, just before my eighteenth birthday, when my mother was diagnosed with cervical cancer. Luckily they caught it in time but we had to fly back to England. Whilst she was undergoing treatment I stayed with Uncle Tony and Aunt Sarah. I found life ashore difficult but got a job in a café. Whilst travelling I'd avoided relationships. What was the point as we'd be moving on soon?
At the café things were different; I was different. I had no idea about fashion or make-up so stood out with my tan, sun-bleached hair and shorts. When your diet is at least 50% fish and you're working lines and rigging all day you tend to develop a good body. Though petite, mine was lean and tight and in the café I was hit on at least a dozen times a day.
One Sunday, Tony and Sarah hosted a family gathering. It was evident from the conversations that my mother's illness had scared her and she didn't want to travel for the foreseeable future. That presented a problem as the yacht was in Auckland, New Zealand. My father didn't want to leave my mother and the harbour fees were stacking up. Neither did he want to sell it.
"I'll bring it back," said Tony. Everyone laughed, he knew nothing about boats. "Well not on my own obviously, but how difficult can a few knots and sails be?"
"And your roofing business?" said Aunt Sarah.
He shrugged, "You know that Gary as General Manager pretty much runs things."
"I'll go with you," I said. They all looked at me. I shrugged, "Up around Oz, Indonesia, Thailand, India, Red Sea, Suez Canal, Med, Gibraltar and home. Four months, maybe five, easy peasy. Maybe add another month for local sailing down there so I can teach Uncle Tony."
"And university in September?" my mother said.
I knew that would come up. No, I'd never been to school, but via correspondence and the internet I'd followed the English national curriculum and most large cities, especially capitals, had an English school where I could get help from tutors and sit exams. Last year, a year ahead of my peers, I'd passed four A-levels, all grade A, at the International School in Manila. "I've told you, Mum, I'm not ready," I said, "I don't have the social skills or confidence. This would help both, help me to stand on my own two feet. I'll do all the planning, flights, paperwork, visas. It'll be good for me. Don't forget I sailed us alone, on the way from Tahiti to Honolulu, aged fourteen, when you both ate that bad frozen shellfish and had the squits for three days."
Mum winced at both my terminology and the memory.
Dad nodded, looked at my mother and said, "Grace, Jess has more sailing experience than most sailors gain in a lifetime. She has all the qualifications she'll need."
That was it, decision made.
.....
At the port entrance it took fifteen minutes or so to have our passports and paperwork checked before we were issued with passes for ourselves and the rental car. Next stop was the harbour master, George. "Jess!" he cried, rushing from behind the worn counter and giving me a hug. There were only so many ports in the world and we'd called in at Auckland many times. "How's your mother?"
"Doing well thanks but dad didn't want to leave her. This is my Uncle Tony."
They shook hands then George said, "Well, we've kept her clean and turned the engine over once a week and we lifted her out last month and scraped the hull and keel. You'll need to give her a good check though. Your father said you're staying a month?"
"Provision and shake down for a week then some sailing. Maybe down to Wellington and back. Is Max still running the chandlers?"
"Uh-huh. If he hasn't got what you need he'll get it."
"Do we need to settle any outstanding account?"
"No, your father's covered it. I'll email him a final invoice when you leave."
"Okay thanks."
Liberty was at the end of a Jetty 14, so we parked the car and left our bags for later. I gave Tony a tour of the boat, allocating him my parent's berth, then I ran through some basic rules of life on board. We'd get into the details in the coming days. In the tiny lounge cum dining area cum galley we sat and opened a couple of cold beers kindly provided by George. "We'll unload the car then do a quick supermarket run," I said, "Maybe get some frozen pizzas. Tomorrow we'll do a proper tour of the boat; names of things and stuff. What are you like at knots?"
"Pretty good, I was in the scouts."
