Read Online Blue Water by A. Manette Ansay - Free Book Online

T-shirt. This I carried out onto the bowsprit, waving it like a flag.
    â€œAre you trying to surrender?” Rex asked.
    I ignored him.
    â€œEven if they’re looking our way, they won’t be able to see you. They’re too far off.”
    â€œSo let’s motor after them.”
    When Rex shook his head, I wanted to throttle him. Here, less than a mile away, were real, live human beings, people other than ourselves. Maybe he didn’t care, but I certainly did. I was sick to death of talking about Bullwinkle.
    â€œC’mon, how much fuel can it take?”
    â€œIt isn’t only that, Meg. What if they don’t want company?”
    â€œWho wouldn’t want company in the middle of the Atlantic?”
    â€œWe’re not in the middle,” Rex said, and there was a weary edge to his voice. “Nowhere near the middle, believe me.”
    With that, our VHF began to crackle, and Chelone ’s cockpit reverberated with the cartoon voice of Popeye the Sailor:
    â€œChelone, Chelone, that’s one helluva name, hope I’m sayin’ it right. This is sailing vessel Rubicon, Rubicon. Come back, Chelone.”
    To my surprise, Rex lunged for the microphone, sore shoulder and all, and I realized he’d been just as eager as I was for contact.
    â€œGotcha, Rubicon . You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
    â€œAin’t that the truth. How you doin’ on freshwater?”
    â€œFine. You in trouble?”
    â€œJust a minute.” There came that high-pitched barking sound, followed by a series of squeals, then the shush of a woman’s voice. “Sorry, our little guy gets excited. The membrane on our water maker’s fouled.”
    â€œCan’t you clean it?” Rex asked.
    Rough laughter filled the frequency. “Problem is, you need the cleaning solution to do it. Wife tidied up a few weeks ago, and now we can’t find a goddamn thing.”
    There was a mild scuffling, followed by a woman’s good-naturedvoice. “Not that we could find anything before. I don’t suppose you have a water maker?”
    â€œPlenty of cleaner, too, I believe.” Rex glanced at me to confirm this; I nodded. “Love to help you out.”
    â€œI’ll tell you what, Chelone .” Popeye was back on the air. “We’ve got two pounds of ground chuck we’ve been saving for a special occasion. Come aboard with that solution, and we’ll cook you up the best damn burgers you’ve ever tasted.”
    Meat that did not come out of a can! Even now, I can’t recall another invitation I’ve accepted with such eagerness, such gratitude. While Rex and Popeye (whose name, it turned out, was Eli Hale) worked out the logistics of rafting our boats together, I dug Chelone ’s fenders out of stowage, and by the time I’d dragged them onto deck, Rubicon was already closing in. There’d be no time, I realized, to clean myself up, to change out of the filthy shirt I was wearing and into the less-filthy shirt I’d been saving. Dark crescents of dirt frowned beneath my nails. I glanced back at Rex, who was at the helm. He was bare-chested. The waistband of his shorts had rotted through, revealing a gray strip of elastic.
    We’re the ones, I thought, who look like a plague ship.
    But my first glimpse of the Hales put me at ease. Like Rex, Eli was standing at the helm, bare-chested. Like Rex, the shorts he wore had seen happier days. Unlike Rex, however, he was short, heavyset, with dirty blond hair twisted into a thicket of tattered dreads. His belly was spangled with tattoos. Moments later, his wife burst onto the deck in cutoffs and what looked like an old brassier. She was full-chested, freckled, with long red hair pulled back into braids. I liked her instantly. A tangle of fenders fanned out behind her; she flashed me a grin before working them free, expertly tying them along Rubicon ’s hull.
    â€œThat should do,