Against the Wind

"I think I'd rather keep the helm... and what about the mainsail?"

"Okay. This is what's going to happen. When you're ready, you're going to turn slowly to starboard and you'll warn me that we're coming about. When we're directly upwind, the sails are going to be without force and the boat will keep turning on its own momentum. The mainsail will smoothly cross by itself. I will slacken the port sheet of the Genoa and pick up the starboard sheet and tighten it as the sail crosses. While all this happens, you cross over to the other side and stop the turn. Try to keep us on a close reach allure, OK? So... when you're ready..."

"I decide?"

"You are the one at the helm. You're the skipper."

"Okay then..." She slowly, anxiously, pushed the rudder. "Coming about!" In less than a minute it was all over, without a hitch. While Noel was trimming the Genoa, Christina screamed "Wahoo! That was great!"

"I knew you would be a natural. YOU are an amazing skipper... you're sure you don't want to run away to Florida with me? It's that way..." Noel could not see her gaze but he did see a twitch in her smile and noticed she did not know what to respond. "I see you have things under control here, I'll go down fix us some sandwiches. Yell for help in case of trouble..."

"Noeeeel!!!"

"What?" He had run up the small stairwell and propped his head outside, scanning furiously.

"Just checking... hi hi!" Christina was giggling like a mischievous schoolgirl and Noel almost ran back inside to hide just how much she was melting his heart into jelly. He was infatuated head over heels and was completely dumbfounded about what to do with his feelings, not to mention his erection. Concentrating on cold cuts and sandwich assembly in a moving boat proved a much appreciated distraction.

"There you go milady: smoked turkey BLT with cheese-mustard-mayo - the house specialty - with Pringles. Another light beer with that?"

"Please. And thank you. This is lovely. Is it always like this?"

"Well, today is an exceptionally good sailing day but, yes, it's pretty much like that... of course things go even slower when the wind is calm and get more tense when the weather is rough, but this is the week-end sailing way of life and rhythm. Common wisdom has us tacking into the wind on the first day so you get an easier return, downwind, on Sundays."

"And that's how you travel?"

"Against the wind, you mean? Yes. You just keep on tacking; eventually you get where you want to go." Noel was thankful for the sunglasses; he did not want her to see how wistful he was, thinking about that phrase in another meaning entirely.

"Is she a good boat? Performance-wise, I mean?"

"All early Endeavour sailboats are built to be ideal for Florida and the Bahamas. They have shallow draft and high cruising comfort. This one is an Endeavour 32 tall rig model. Dad use to brag HE was the one that convinced Ted Irwin to adapt his design, but that is a beer-enhanced tale in which I hold little faith. In any case, she is ideal for the myriad of bays of Lake Champlain and she has not been ageing a day since her launch... she turns 40 this year. Dad always dreamed of winning one of the summer regattas but I don't see sailing that way. And just wait when we have finished rounding Valcour Island, over there... then we will pass on a broad reach allure and she will be so stable I'll let you go sun tanning at the bow."

"Wow, 40. She really still looks brand new. You must have really spent a lot of time and energy on upkeep." Noel didn't respond, as he was reliving, in a blur, all those fall, winter and spring week-ends of upkeep, winterizing, modifications, oiling, waxing, painting and, of course, cleaning. "So, now that I understand the Frenchie, what about the Appeal? Is there a hidden meaning in that?"

"When Dad got into City Council, he truly didn't care for the Mayor's seat. He only wished for Plattsburgh to recover from the base closure and he got the assignments he coveted: the Planning Board and the Zoning Board of Appeals. That's where I got the idea."

"Wow... this is a great name honoring the two lives of a great man. You were very thoughtful, Noel."

"Thank you." Noel felt his face; he knew he was blushing. "How about handing me the helm a bit? You can't hog all the fun for yourself!"

"All right... here, give me your plate; I will take them downstairs in the galley. Can I have another beer please?"

"Atta girl!!! It's great you're making yourself home! One light beer, coming right up!" He was still nursing his second. Well, his did have alcohol. After she came back up, she caressed his shoulder to take her beer. He felt more of a jolt than a shiver but managed to keep it to himself. He saw she was looking at the lake with envy. "Do you wish for a swim?"

"You read my mind. This day is stupendous."

He took a look at Valcour Island, slowly approaching, and quickly made up his mind. "Teel you what, I will fix you the next best thing. Why don't you go to the starboard lifeline door, sit down and hold on tight to the door handlebars. Tell me when you're all set."

"Ooookaayyy..." She did as suggested and moved about as she was taught. "Readdyyy!" She was sitting down on the side, with her legs on the hull, and looking down towards the water, guessing what was about to happen.

Noel took the boat to starboard, on a beam reach. But he kept the sails very tight. With the wind blowing sideways on such a trimming, the list increased and soon Christina was calf-deep in the water, running at more than 5 knots, with plenty of splashes on her derriere and even her chest. She was shrieking in pure delight - the water was at 72 degrees - and Noel now knew there were such things as sirens, because he would follow that perfect musical sound absolutely anywhere. He let her enjoy the lake for several minutes, as long as he could until he felt he needed a better trim to avoid drifting too close to the island.

When she walked back aft to finish her beer, she pecked him on the cheek and he could see her heart still racing. "Noel THAT was so much fun and so refreshing!!! Thank you. For this entire magnificent day, in fact. Now I believe I will help myself to some more Pringles. Want some?"

Just like that, they had naturally become sailing partners; they chatted idly about life and seamanship. About 30 minutes later, when Frenchie's Appeal started rounding the southern tip of Valcour Island, Noel asked Christina to slack both sails, turned starboard and set the boat on a broad reach allure, with the wind coming from midway between port and aft. For show, he made the point of holding the rudder only with his index finger.

"My offer stands. I see you are very careful moving about so, until we reach Plattsburgh again, you can move up to the bow, take off your life jacket and soak in the Sun, if you wish. You can even bring a cushion with you for comfort."

"I will take you up on that offer, skipper." This time, she caressed her face before picking up her cushion.

(Is she aware of how she affects me?!? Doesn't she know how beautiful she is?)

But, all infatuation put aside, Noel soon regretted being left alone at the helm. It was his first time in years so close to the runway. He could guess its location, over there, just beyond the New-York shoreline. He could see the sights and hear the sounds: the KC-135 tankers and the FB-111 bombers taking off in constant succession, during an Operational Readiness Inspection. He could glimpse at his father waving him at the control of his KC-135, the type he flew for almost 20 years. He had the reflex to protect his ears from the deafening fury of the multiple jet engines, each one mellowed by Doppler effects and replaced by black trails of exhaust. While still deep in this reverie, he remembered he was born after the base was closed.

That was one ghost too many. He sobbed, his head shaking and his mind mad with grief. Suddenly feeling the signal from his lungs he needed to breathe, he filled them to capacity and expelled all air in a lament he was sure would be heard right up to boat basin, still miles ahead.

(Stop it! You spineless sap! You'll ruin it all for her! STOP! IT!)

He was choking up, swallowing hard, sniffing, wiping away tears and making sure they kept their heading. It was then that he heard the voice of his siren passenger, having returned aft. "Noel?"

"Yes, Christina? Everything alright?" He was ready to apologize.

"Actually, yes... a little too much alright. I'm really embarrassed and please don't laugh or tease. It's about option number one. Since we are closing in on the Boat Basin and it is still relatively early for a June day, if we return to port right away, then I go home packing, you go for supplies, I invite myself and we turn this into a week-end... could we have time to head back in one of these bays, before dark, for supper?"

Noel's heart and soul literally contorted like the buildings in some special effect movie. He would have never conceived possible to flip from despair to jubilation in a mere instant. Christmas trees do not light up as much as his face must have. "Your wish is my command! We'll get on the new plan right away! Please take the helm so I can squeeze a knot or two from the old girl." He motioned her to turn the boat to port, closer to a faster beam reach allure, and trimmed the sails with attention to minute details. When the odometer clocked 7.0 knots, he sat down, satisfied. "There we go! Not bad for an old maid of 40!!!"

"Isn't this over the hull speed? Is it dangerous?"

"Not this little much, no. It does mean that the stress distribution along the waterline is no longer ideal. This has an effect on comfort and, in the extreme, the risk of capsizing, but you tell me, you're the skipper: how does she feel?"

"She feels responsive... the rudder is pulling just a tad more than when we were at closed reach earlier. And the list feels fine."

"Then take us home, skipper!"

The new plan worked out as if it was meant to happen that way from the very beginning. This time, for berthing, Christina took the lines. Despite coaching her not to jump on the dock from afar, Noel's heart skipped a beat when she disappeared from sight, until he heard the thud of her landing. When they said their goodbyes for the next hour, she cupped his face again. She pecked his cheek again. She twirled his heart around her little finger again. Noel pondered his feelings on the way to the grocery store. He was ecstatic at confirming the presence in his life of the one caring friend he thought he had, but was also in turmoil due to his ever-increasing desire of her. In any case, since tonight he would be nothing but a gracious host and trusted friend, he set that inner debate aside. When he returned, she was already waiting at the helm, clad in a light sweater. They anchored in Smuggler Harbor, a small and sheltered bay in Valcour Island, before dark.

Curiously, on the way, while Christina had dressed up for the evening, Noel chose to strip to his beach boxers without a second thought. When Christina looked at him funny, he felt self-conscious and the sudden need to explain. "My skin doesn't tan, it burns red. And today was my first big day out. I call this incremental burning; in about two weeks, my skin will be darkened enough for me to be more care-free about the sun." Little did Noel know that, although Christina readily accepted his explanation, her reaction had, in fact, been much more visceral.

(YUM-MY!)

And it troubled her. A lot. She turned her head, looking back at the Boat Basin, as if to grasp the fact there was no turning back, and sighed.

After anchoring, Noel just sat there, at the helm, and gave the impression of someone trying to achieve drunkenness by breathing excess oxygen. Christina sat opposite him and examined closely his gaze, as they had both taken off their sunglasses. She saw an elated fatigue. She then realized that she could not remember when, or even if, she had been immersed in such peace and quiet, despite the number of anchored boats sharing the bay with them. "It's something else, isn't it, Christina? The great air can be tiring, though... do you want to take a nap while I cook supper?"

"Couldn't I help instead? What are we having?"

"I'm about to barbecue some chicken breasts and potatoes. If you want, you could peel and ready the vegetables, maybe make a salad, that would be great... but I must warn you that the galley is no household kitchen."

"Stop being such a mother-hen... I'll manage! And get cooking, Mister... it seems the great air makes me hungry!" She jokingly punched his arm and made her way downstairs. He chuckled and set the portable barbecue on the stern rail, listening to his inside voice. He was happy.

When he went down to set the table, they bumped themselves in the restricted space and Christina shooed him away from "her" area. He sat on the stairs, bemused and amazed at such a relaxed complicity. He wondered if it was the same between his parents when they were aboard. He announced supper was ready and uncorked a white wine, waiting to be invited at the table.

The meal was dreamy. Conversation pleasant and care-free. Noel just let his inside voice repeat how happy he was, to his heart's content. The great air had indeed made Christina hungry. "I must say, Christina, this is as amazing a gift as it was unexpected. You have made me extremely happy tonight. Not just tonight, in fact... I can't thank you enough for agreeing to be here. You saved my life today. I will be forever in your debt."

"Don't be silly! I should be thanking you! You have done nothing but treat me like the Empress of the Lake today... and I am very fond of your company, Noel, so don't make it so melodramatic, please."

"As you wish, but I meant what I said. Maybe, just this once, you have no idea..." his insistence and earnestness worried her.

"Are you doing alright, Noel?"

"Physically, you know I am; mentally, I have really come about today, and I reiterate it is largely thanks to you; materially, I was never in worry - in a sad way, mom's death paid for the boat, dad paid for college and dad's death paid for the house. Even if extended sick-leave doesn't pay much, it's more than enough under these morbid circumstances. And you, my lovely Christina, are YOU doing alright? I do apologize, all day today I was so caught up with sailing and with myself that I forgot to mention how stunningly beautiful you look... not that you need my opinion to know that."

Christina was unsettled, yet unafraid. "That will be enough flirting, young man, thank you very much! I have not been offered dessert yet."

"Haaa... then please follow me outside." And they cooked marshmallows over the barbecue embers while looking at the star-filled sky. Christina was in heaven, and she tasted it just a tad longer before setting herself to perform the one task she dreaded. She took a sip of wine, a deep breath and got ready for the worst.

"His name was Brian."

"The one who treated you so badly, you won't date and started to take karate lessons?"

"Quite the opposite, Noel. He loved me with all his heart."

"What happened? Were you married?"

"We were not. I happened, Noel..." she could not bring herself to watch him anymore and lowered her head.

"I'm not following you."

"I was still Christopher Thomas at the time. We were a gay couple, Noel. He thought it was set in stone. We loved each other and lived together. I had made my coming out and broke my parents' hearts, but they loved me enough not to shun me. However, I still wasn't truly myself and, in the end, that life wasn't enough. Brian supported me during my transition and being an RN in a plastic surgery department helped, obviously... I had access to the best of care and, well, I do take care of myself... so you see... the result. But I didn't turn HIM on... I wasn't Christopher anymore. Everyone was supportive at work but I felt it like pity. So, with nothing but sorrow for me in New-Jersey, I left at the first career opportunity, which was here. The need for karate came afterwards, when I tried dating again. I'll spare you the gruesome details. I just wanted to be myself, Noel, and it cost me everything."

"What can I do for you?" During those few minutes, as he would conclude while replaying the scene in his head instead of sleeping, Noel was on autopilot... truth be told, he was completely floored by her revelation.

"What?" Her voice was quivering.

"Christina, we're in the bottom of a bay on a lake... I know you can handle yourself but, right now, you probably feel vulnerable, or at least very much alone. I want to be a friend... no, scratch that: I AM your friend, but this situation is rather extreme even on the friendship scale, and I don't want to act like a jerk. I don't know why you felt you had to tell me this now, but I want to be worthy of this... worthy of YOU. So please, tell me what can I do for you... anything... just ask."

She could not equate such words with such a young man. But HE had that karma... she rose her head slowly and barely squeaked "...a hug would be nice." As soon as it was said, she felt the warm embrace of his arms around her and his shoulder nestled under her chin to support her. Then, as she let herself go and surrendered to him, she felt silent caresses on her back, her hair and her neck. In the silence of their closeness and in the hush of the bay in the evening, Christina could hear each one of her muffled sobs like it was a blaring horn. She could also hear her own inside voice, telling her she was being loved.

(Take care of him... don't hurt him... be GOOD to him)

She let go of the hug, this time looking Noel straight in the eyes and seeing nothing but benevolence and caring in his gaze, and she whispered "thank you, Noel" just before a kiss that was as soft as it was quick.

"You're very welcome... do you need anything else?" In the absence of a response, he carried on. "Then, I have to improvise something... hmmm... Ha! I know! I will make you lose money!"

"Say what?" This conversation was suddenly surreal.

"WE will play backgammon, as it has been since time immemorial in this boat during evenings, and tonight WE will christen the doubling cube. I suppose a quarter a point is a good wager. Please follow me down and I will set up the game."

She followed him... and she noticed, amazed, that her smile was back. For a couple of hours, only the sound of dice throws and laughter could be heard in the cabin. And poor Noel realized he bit more than he could chew from the very first time he offered Christina a doubling. "Do you accept or forfeit?"

"Beaver."

"Beaver?"

"I accept your offer and redouble the ante."

"That's allowed?"

"Indeed..." Christina replied in a purposefully sadistic tone, before erupting in a warm, roaring laughter, just as she was rolling a double 5 and started turning the game around and thus relieved Noel of the first of many dollars for the night. It took a yawn from Christina to signal the end of this ritual sacrifice.

"Well, my dear Christina, tomorrow, I will gladly hear all about your past as a backgammon hustler. Let me set up the main cabin bed so you can discover the secret reason we all crave the lake: sleep!"

"Where will you sleep?"

"I always sleep in the aft cabin. Do you remember how to operate the lavatory and toilet? You go first while I make the beds, OK?" She proceeded as asked, silently. Once again, she felt a little off-balance, as her heart kept oscillating between relief and disappointment since the announcement of the sleeping arrangements.

When she came out, wearing pink satin pajamas she had not worn in ages, she saw Noel lose his breath. "Christina, much as I am happy and proud that you honor my vessel with your presence, I must say you should be walking a Victoria's Secret runway instead."