The one thing that keeps me sane during our COVID-enforced social distancing is the boat. It's not much-a 21-foot motorboat with bench seats and a beefy 125 horse motor. What it represents, though, is sanity. Escape from the problems of shore, immersion in an aquatic world that knows nothing about masks or nasal swabs or stupid political decisions. On the water, more basic elements of survival are at play-sun and wind, currents and waves are the dominant concerns. Below that, the fish migrations have begun and every week brings a new challenge for devoted amateurs like me.
When I can, I convince my wife or kids to come with me. They have homework and social considerations, though, and my wife does not like being on the water unless it's mirror-smooth. In practical terms, that means 3 out of 4 trips find me off on my own. I love my family, but after almost 2 months at home, three hours by myself is a luxury I take advantage of shamelessly.
Yesterday afternoon was sunny and calm; high tide was just after 3 pm. Work was done for the day, but everyone was in lounging mode when I asked about going out on the boat. The most I got was a "Have fun!" from my wife, accompanied by a languid wave. Chuckling ruefully, I threw water, snacks, bait, and a towel into the boat bag and headed for my car. I was already wearing sunscreen, and my shorts were actually a quick-dry bathing suit, so I was ready for anything.
Not surprisingly, the town marina was full of cars. Most, however, were not boat owners. People go there in droves to sit on the breakwater or walk along the marsh edge that stretches away to the east. On colder days, people sit in their cars at all times of day and watch the water. On that afternoon, though, they were everywhere, and only a few were wearing masks-everyone's pet peeve these days!
Parking in one of the reserved spots, I waited for some pedestrians to pass and then made my way to the gate. It took only a few minutes to switch on the batteries, lower the engine, and cast off the lines. To keep the sun off, I pulled up the dark-blue bimini top and settled my cell phone and water bottle into the cup holders on the console. Time to go!
In case you don't know, the speed limit inside a marina is "dead slow"-no one wants a passing boat's wake rocking everything unnecessarily. I putt-putted along at just under 2 knots, easing around the finger docks and the enormous power cruisers on the outside ends. I collected a couple of friendly waves as I passed by people I knew, and nods from other captains I didn't. All in all, it was a nice, normal day to be out on the water.
Things changed, however, when I eased past the town boat launch at the mouth of the river. As usual, it was crowded, and although people were polite, it was amateur hour for sure. I should be nice about it, though-it's not easy to back a trailer down a ramp or pull a boat onto a submerged trailer when everyone around you is watching or waiting! I've been there myself and know how self-conscious it can make me. However, the waiting boats usually create a traffic jam of aimless circling hazards to navigation, and it's sometimes an exercise in patience to get past safely. That day was no exception. I slowed to idle speed, waiting for an opening in the channel and looking around.
One of the best parts about nice weather is that it means fewer clothes. Every guy knows that instinctively, and it was true that afternoon. The pedestrians I had passed, the people sitting on the rocks along the marina, and especially the women on the other boats wore shorts and bikini tops and filmy cover-ups. It was a voyeur's dream, and I let my eyes roam freely behind my sunglasses while I waited for a chance to get out.
One group of teenagers drew my eye right away. Two boys and two girls, clearly out on someone's parents' boat for an afternoon, were attempting to tie up and disembark at the dock beside the boat launch. They missed catching the cleat on their first attempt and had to back and fill as the tide swung them past their spot. One boy was leaning far out with a loop of mooring line trying to lasso the post, but it was not working.
As amusing as their rope-fumbling was, I had a better time watching the two girls as they tried to help. Both wore brightly fluorescent bikinis that revealed a lot of beautiful skin barely touched by the sun. The one in the green bikini was paler and had straight, dark hair that was pulled back into a long ponytail. Her legs were slender, her belly was tight and smooth, and her small breasts barely filled the cups of her bathing suit. When she turned, though, I was immediately drawn by the tight little bubble of her ass. Half of each cheek was outside the line of her suit, and those pale crescents looked amazingly firm and inviting, twitching and bunching as she stepped up onto the seat and tried to balance.
The other girl was less slender, but had fuller curves. Her breasts strained against the shiny blue fabric, and my eyes locking onto the pale skin beside and below her top. It was a voyeur's dream-underboob and side-boob framed a luscious pair of breasts with an inviting swell of cleavage between them. Her belly was not as flat as her friend's, but her hips were wider and her suit was cut a little lower, drawing my eye down the seductive curve between her hip and thigh. A quick glance at the tiny swell of her mound made one thing clear-here was a girl who kept herself smoothly shaven! There was nothing blocking the line of shadow created by the cleft of her pussy as it curved up from below. God, I love younger women for that! Her ass, by the way, was luscious and full as well, and it jiggled delightfully as she moved to the stern to try and catch hold of the dock. At one point, both girls were leaned over, clinging to the edge board. I almost strained my eyeballs trying to admire those two sweet asses without appearing to stare!
Sadly, the line of boats cleared for a moment and I had to putt-putt away from the girls at last. Smiling ruefully to myself at how much I had enjoyed their youthful beauty, I tapped the throttle forward. Happily, I saw another woman standing at the middle of the dock on the opposite side, looking out at the water. She was clearly not as young as the other two, but her figure was lean and her skin was lightly tanned. I couldn't see as much because she was wearing denim shorts, a button down shirt tucked up and knotted around her waist, and a floppy hat with small, stylish sunglasses. A big straw bag hung over her near shoulder, obscuring some of my view. Light brown hair was caught up in a low ponytail behind the nape of her neck. Most importantly, a small, brightly colored mask covered the lower part of her face. My kind of woman!
Not wanting to get caught peeking at her, I turned my head openly, ready to nod at her as I went by. She turned toward me at that moment, though, and saw me looking right at her. She tipped her head back for a moment as a greeting.
"Looks nice out there!" she called in a clear voice.
"Perfect day to be out," I said agreeably. That was it. Nothing suggestive, just a friendly guy trying not to stare as he passed by. From what I could see of her face and her skin, she was probably close to my age. Her smile was relaxed and genuine.
My head started to turn back toward the channel markers and I checked for other boats. Suddenly, I heard that clear voice again off to my left.
"Take me with you!"
Looking back, I have no idea what came over me. I simply nosed the boat to port and backed the engine a little, coming alongside the dock just at the end. I kept enough speed on to hold her there against the tide and looked over my shoulder.
"Are you serious?" I asked simply.
She came toward me with quick steps. "Will you take me?" she asked, her hands on her hips.
Maybe it was the challenge of her posture. Maybe it was the firm line of her thighs as she stood balancing on the dock. Maybe it was the boldness of her manner-not begging, but clearly asking for what she wanted. Whatever it was, I couldn't resist it.
"Jump on," I told her, nodding toward the seat next to the console.
With a long, graceful step, my mystery woman went from dock to rail to deck, one hand resting lightly on the brace for the bimini. She dropped her bag on the seat and came to stand beside me, switching her grip to the rail around the console. I headed away from the dock bemusedly and entered the channel. My hand automatically bumped the throttle forward to gain speed.
"I'm Kate," she said simply. The mask muffled her voice only slightly.
"I'm Steve," I told her in return.
"Where are we going?" she asked, looking directly at me with a smile in her eyes.
"Well, I was going to go out fishing on Chatham Reef..." I told her.
"Don't stop on my account," she said happily. "I love fishing!"
