that most yacht-owners cherished because it wasn't worth the maintenance time. Springer was a workboat, or was supposed to be.
Kelly and his guest alighted from the car. He opened the cargo door and started carrying the cartons aboard. The young lady, he saw, had the good sense to stay out of the way.
'Yo, Kelly!' a voice called from the flying bridge.
'Yeah, Ed, what was it?'
'Bad gauge. The generator brushes were a little worn, and I replaced them, but I think it was the gauge. Replaced that, too.' Ed Murdock, the yard's chief mechanic, started down, and spotted the girl as he began to step off the ladder. Murdock tripped on the last step and nearly landed flat on his face in surprise. The mechanic's face evaluated the girl quickly and approvingly.
'Anything else?' Kelly asked pointedly.
'Topped off the tanks. The engines are warm,' Murdock said, turning back to his customer. 'It's all on your bill.'
'Okay, thanks, Ed.'
'Oh, Chip told me to tell you, somebody else made an offer in case you ever want to sell -'
Kelly cut him off. 'No chance, Ed.'
'She's a jewel, Kelly,' Murdock said as he gathered his tools and walked away smiling, pleased with himself for the double entendre.
It took several seconds for Kelly to catch that one. It evoked a belated grunt of semi-amusement as he loaded the last of the groceries into the salon.
'What do I do?' the girl asked. She'd just been standing there, and Kelly had the impression that she was trembling a little and trying to hide it.
'Just take a seat topside,' Kelly said, pointing to the flying bridge. 'It'll take me a few minutes to get things started.'
'Okay.' She beamed a smile at him guaranteed to melt ice, as though she knew exactly what one of his needs was.
Kelly walked aft to his cabin, pleased at least that he kept his boat tidy. The master-cabin head was also neat, and he found himself staring into the mirror and asking, 'Okay, now what the fuck are you going to do?'
There was no immediate answer, but common decency told him to wash up. Two minutes later he entered the salon. He checked to see that the grocery cartons were secure, then went topside.
'I, uh, forgot to ask you something -' he began.
'Pam,' she said, extending her hand. 'What's yours?'
'Kelly,' he replied, nonplussed yet again.
'Where we going, Mr Kelly?'
'Just Kelly,' he corrected her, keeping his distance for the moment. Pam just nodded and smiled again.
'Okay, Kelly, where to?'
'I own a little island about thirty -'
'You own an island?' Her eyes went wide.
'That's right.' Actually, he just leased it, and that had been a fact long enough that Kelly didn't find it the least bit remarkable.
'Let' go!' she said with enthusiasm, looking back at the shore.
Kelly laughed out loud. 'Okay, let's do that!'
He flipped on the bilge blowers. Springer had diesel engines, and he didn't really have to worry about fumes building up, but for all his recently acquired slovenliness, Kelly was a seaman, and his life on the water followed a strict routine, which meant observing all the safety rules that had been written in the blood of less careful men. After the prescribed two minutes, he punched the button to start the port-side, then the starboard-side diesel. Both of the big Detroit Diesel engines caught at once, rumbling to impressive life as Kelly checked the gauges. Everything looked fine.
He left the flying bridge to slip his mooring lines, then came back and eased the throttles forward to take his boat out of the slip, checking tide and wind - there was not much of either at the moment - and looking for other boats. Kelly advanced the port throttle a notch farther as he turned the wheel, allowing Springer to pivot all the more quickly in the narrow channel, and then he was pointed straight out. He advanced the starboard throttle next, bringing his cruiser to a mannerly five knots as he headed past the ranks of motor and sail yachts. Pam was looking around at the boats, too, mainly aft, and her
Kelly and his guest alighted from the car. He opened the cargo door and started carrying the cartons aboard. The young lady, he saw, had the good sense to stay out of the way.
'Yo, Kelly!' a voice called from the flying bridge.
'Yeah, Ed, what was it?'
'Bad gauge. The generator brushes were a little worn, and I replaced them, but I think it was the gauge. Replaced that, too.' Ed Murdock, the yard's chief mechanic, started down, and spotted the girl as he began to step off the ladder. Murdock tripped on the last step and nearly landed flat on his face in surprise. The mechanic's face evaluated the girl quickly and approvingly.
'Anything else?' Kelly asked pointedly.
'Topped off the tanks. The engines are warm,' Murdock said, turning back to his customer. 'It's all on your bill.'
'Okay, thanks, Ed.'
'Oh, Chip told me to tell you, somebody else made an offer in case you ever want to sell -'
Kelly cut him off. 'No chance, Ed.'
'She's a jewel, Kelly,' Murdock said as he gathered his tools and walked away smiling, pleased with himself for the double entendre.
It took several seconds for Kelly to catch that one. It evoked a belated grunt of semi-amusement as he loaded the last of the groceries into the salon.
'What do I do?' the girl asked. She'd just been standing there, and Kelly had the impression that she was trembling a little and trying to hide it.
'Just take a seat topside,' Kelly said, pointing to the flying bridge. 'It'll take me a few minutes to get things started.'
'Okay.' She beamed a smile at him guaranteed to melt ice, as though she knew exactly what one of his needs was.
Kelly walked aft to his cabin, pleased at least that he kept his boat tidy. The master-cabin head was also neat, and he found himself staring into the mirror and asking, 'Okay, now what the fuck are you going to do?'
There was no immediate answer, but common decency told him to wash up. Two minutes later he entered the salon. He checked to see that the grocery cartons were secure, then went topside.
'I, uh, forgot to ask you something -' he began.
'Pam,' she said, extending her hand. 'What's yours?'
'Kelly,' he replied, nonplussed yet again.
'Where we going, Mr Kelly?'
'Just Kelly,' he corrected her, keeping his distance for the moment. Pam just nodded and smiled again.
'Okay, Kelly, where to?'
'I own a little island about thirty -'
'You own an island?' Her eyes went wide.
'That's right.' Actually, he just leased it, and that had been a fact long enough that Kelly didn't find it the least bit remarkable.
'Let' go!' she said with enthusiasm, looking back at the shore.
Kelly laughed out loud. 'Okay, let's do that!'
He flipped on the bilge blowers. Springer had diesel engines, and he didn't really have to worry about fumes building up, but for all his recently acquired slovenliness, Kelly was a seaman, and his life on the water followed a strict routine, which meant observing all the safety rules that had been written in the blood of less careful men. After the prescribed two minutes, he punched the button to start the port-side, then the starboard-side diesel. Both of the big Detroit Diesel engines caught at once, rumbling to impressive life as Kelly checked the gauges. Everything looked fine.
He left the flying bridge to slip his mooring lines, then came back and eased the throttles forward to take his boat out of the slip, checking tide and wind - there was not much of either at the moment - and looking for other boats. Kelly advanced the port throttle a notch farther as he turned the wheel, allowing Springer to pivot all the more quickly in the narrow channel, and then he was pointed straight out. He advanced the starboard throttle next, bringing his cruiser to a mannerly five knots as he headed past the ranks of motor and sail yachts. Pam was looking around at the boats, too, mainly aft, and her
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