Ch. 41: Carol Gets Her Turn

Chapter 41: Carol Gets Her Turn

When I returned to the boat after scoring weed from Timmy, I poured a tumbler of scotch and took some shrimp out of the freezer for dinner. As it thawed, I sat in the cockpit, sipping my scotch and watching the pretty sunset. I climbed back down below to make some shrimp alfredo. I figured that some shrimp and fettucine in a nice creamy alfredo sauce would pair well with the scotch. Maybe a side salad, too. As I worked at putting dinner together, my mind began the checklist of things to do to be ready to cast off in the morning.

As I ate my dinner, I continued to inhale scotch. My mind was torturing itself with thoughts of what I was leaving. The plethora of sex, multiple partners, sex accepted, even expected, anywhere, anytime, with anybody. I was getting really drunk, allowing the booze to numb my brain, to stop it from exploding.

After dinner, I fired up a joint. I decided, in my drunken stupor, to look over the nautical charts again. I needed to decide if I was heading north or south. As I sucked in the pungent smoke, it dawned on me that I should head south. Maybe escape to the Bahamas or the Caribbean. Hurricane season wasn’t arriving for a few more months; I’d be safe till then.

A loud crack of thunder startled me awake. I slowly realized that I had passed out sitting at the nav station the night before. The boat was rocking around like a bucking bronco and the wind had kicked up. A storm front was upon me. My head was aching from the copious amount of scotch the night before. I started reacting, more from muscle memory than anything else. My brain certainly was not working clearly.

I stuck my head above deck and saw the line of dark clouds. They were headed my way and moving fast. The water was roiled up, two-foot waves cresting in whitecaps. The wind was howling, easily 25-30 knots. I stumbled back down below and closed all the hatches. Then I returned topside and secured everything that could blow away. I surveyed the neighboring boats; they all seemed to be solidly anchored.

I checked the weather on the radar. Sure enough, there was a cold front about to crash into me. It appeared to be a narrow front, one that might pass in just a few hours. My head was still numb from my hangover. I decided to make coffee and hunker down. I put my stove into gimble mode and secured the coffee pot to the grate over the burner. The boat was really rocking now, being tossed to and fro like a rag doll. Shit. Just what I needed. No chance that I was leaving today. I could just hope and pray that the authorities weren’t planning their raid today. After all, it was Friday, the day of the raffle.

Then the rain started. It’s as if the sky just opened up, sending down torrents of rain. My only real worry was that another boat would break free and drift into me. The howling wind was driving the rain nearly sideways. At least the deck would get rinsed off, that’s for sure. All that I could do was hunker down, sip my coffee and wait until the storm passed.