No Tan Lines

"Don't you worry about it." He smiled. "Not like I'm in a rush. There's not much to do around here except work on my boat and fish. Got all the time in the world."

I almost smiled. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure, Jenny. You get your breath back, and tell me when you need a rest. Don't push yourself."

"I'm okay, let's go now, I got my breath back."

"You here for Christmas?" he asked as we walked.

Slower this time, much slower, and he was watching me. No reason for him to care. Guess he was just a nice guy or something. I did hope he wasn't gonna hit on me. It'd be nice to talk to someone, as long as he didn't hit on me. Didn't think I could deal with that. No think about it, really. I couldn't deal with that. Couldn't deal with anything much, really.

"Staying from now right through to summer," I said, although I wasn't sure, but it was easier just to say it. "Mom and Dad sent me down to recover, and I thought it was gonna be more fun that it has been. Haven't met anyone my age since I arrived. My Aunt didn't tell me this was one of those towns seniors come to die or something."

"There's a few of us who aren't seniors here," he said. "I sure didn't come here to die."

"Yeah, but it's mostly people that live here or retired here, and there must be someone my own age around, but it's not like I've met any of them. They're all working in the marinas or on boats I guess."

He chuckled, but I didn't think it was that funny.

"What do you do, anyhow?" he asked. "College?"

Now that was funny. "Yeah, right," I said. "High School, or I was anyhow. Finished eleventh grade, and I missed all summer and the start of twelfth grade coz I was in hospital, and I'm not supposed to do anything for another two or three months, so I got to repeat twelfth before I get to go to College."

"Right," Dave said, eyeing me. "Could 've sworn you looked older than that."

"My birthday's January first," I said. "I missed the cutoff by four hours. Oldest in the class, every time, and I'll be nineteen in a few weeks." Okay, having a birthday in January sucked. The boys in my class when I started twelfth grade were all juvenile retards, and younger than me, and redoing twelfth with everyone another year younger, and no friends, that was gonna suck. I was going to have to do it, but just the thought depressed me.

Lots of things depressed me these days, and it was better to not think about them, because when I did, I just lay there and looked at the ceiling blankly, replaying that crap again and again in my mind.

"That sucks," he said. "Here's the entrance."

Emerald River Marina, the sign said, and I hadn't known that. This wasn't main street, it was down a couple, a lot closer to the river. Never been down this far before. There were two other marinas were further up the road, up the river. I'd never walked that far, but I knew they were there. Saw them when we drove in from Miami. Aunt Suzy'd pointed them out.

Dave swiped us through the gate, waved to the security guard in his gatehouse. "Hey Zed, bringing in a guest."

Zed looked, grinned, nodded, waved me through, and I followed Dave. Inside, yeah, the marina was way bigger than I'd thought from looking through the fence from the far end. Couple of huge workshop buildings with boats inside and guys working on them. Lines of boats on stands and blocks outside, some covered in tarps, but they all looked like they were being worked on too, and there were trucks or cars alongside them. Couple of big boat ramps and some boat trailers. A big showroom with expensive looking boats, and more outside, jacked up on stands, sitting on trailers, looking shiny and expensive.

Further down, and there was a restaurant and bar, big washrooms, a self-serve laundry, a marine parts shop and another shop that looked like it was all about fishing. Wide causeways built out into the water, or maybe it was sort of canals dug into the land? Cars and trucks parked by the docks. Rows and rows of docks, most with boats tied up. Ones with masts and ones without. Some boats with people on them. Some empty spaces here and there, sort of brown-green water, muddy looking. Not the sort of water you swam in, and that wasn't even mentioning alligators and things.

"That one's really big," I said as we walked past it, and I was eyeing this huge thing that looked like a floating shoebox sitting on a boat hull. All tinted glass and glossy white paint, towering above the dock.

"That?" Dave said. "That's an old Viking 65, thing only goes out when it's dead calm. Owned by some banker from New York, he flies down with his wife and kids and uses it half a dozen weekends a year, never takes it out. It's a floating condo. Rest of the time it just sits there empty. Marina does all the maintenance on it and cleans it for him. Take that out in a three foot swell and it rolls like a drunk at midnight, and that's with those fancy Naiad stabilizers. I'd be shit-scared it was gonna roll over and take me with it to be honest."

"Really?" I said, looking at it. It did seem a bit high in the water.

"Yeah," Dave said, and he paused with me. "It's only got a draft of about six feet, hull semi-planes, in flat water, it can move, but it'll suck up the gas like you wouldn't believe, but see how high the sides are? You got the hull there, then this superstructure, and then that flybridge up there."

"Yeah," I said, looking up. And up.

"See," Dave said. "It's fifteen, maybe eighteen feet up to the top of the flybridge there, and all that superstructure acts like a big sail. Catches the wind, and when you get anything over three foot waves, she just rolls. Boats like this can capsize or sink real easily when the weather cuts up rough and they're outside. Okay here in the Marina, or in a dead calm along the inside, but that's about it."

"What about these ones?" I asked, pointing, and we walked down towards them.

"Those ones over there in a row that all look the same, those are Carvers, Bayliners, Searays, those three there are Silvertons, that's a Cruiser, that bright pink one's a Tiara, and that there's a Kady Krogen and an old deFever next to it, those two, they're what they call Trawler Yachts, slower, mostly run on diesel, not gas, and that one's an Albin. Going to sink one day, never seen anyone on it as long as I've been here and you can see how rundown it is. There's hundreds like these up and down the coast. Floating condos, that's all a lot of them are."

He laughed. "People buy 'em because boating appeals to them, and then they find it's a lot of work, and their wives don't like the boat because it's a bit cramped for space, and when the weathers rough it's no fun. They buy based on the glossy brochures and the online advertisements, and then when they want to sell, well, boats are a buyers' market."

"What about this one?" I had to stop and look at it. Glossy white, open deck at the back with big glass sliding doors into the cabin, a ladder up to the top of the cabin and then this tower thing that seemed to go waaaay up and jeez, looked like it was built to move and there was this rack of fishing rods along the back.

"That?" Dave grinned. "That's a 50 foot Egg Harbor Sports Fisherman, that seat at the back there's for fishing from. Not a Bertram, but not bad. The one next to it's an old Lancer, and that next one there's a Hatteras sports-fisher. Good boats, those Hatterai." He went on to tell me about the boats we were walking past, and he knew them all.

Fountain. Lagoon. Beneteau. Azimut. Silverton. Cruiser. Regal. Jeanneau. Grand Banks. Powercat. Sea Ray. Rampage. More. More name than I could possibly remember. He rattled off the names as we walked by, and he knew them all.

"These ones, they're sailing yachts," he said, pointing. "Some of them even sail, but a lot of them just sit there. People think they want to sail, buy one, and then they find out it's a lot of work, and the boats just sit there. There's a lot at the back of the marina down the far end where you can't see them that's full of old boats people have just walked away from. Boneyard boats. Pick 'em up for a song but then you spend a fortune bringing them back to life, even if you can do a lot of the work yourself. It's sad, it's really sad."

He shook his head.

"What about this one?" I said, looking at this old boat five minutes' walk further on. Not as glossy as the others, and it really did look older somehow, and there was a guy up on the roof of the cabin, working on something. It wasn't a sailing yacht, that was for sure, and it wasn't like the glossy new ones we'd walked by. Bigger. A lot bigger, but it looked good to me.

"That? That's an old late 1960's Hatteras motor yacht," he said. "Sixty five feet. Lots of space inside. Real comfortable to liveaboard. Guy that lives on this one bought it cheap, it was a project boat that the guy that owned it before him stripped down and then bailed on. Lot easier to strip it down than to rebuild it, and he found that out the hard way. Ant bought it for a song and he's been doing it up for a couple of years now, real hands-on sorta guy. He's been working on her longer than I've been here, and he's nowhere near finished. Probably still be working on it when he dies, but Ant won't mind that. He loves fixing it up. It's his life." He grinned, waved.

"Hey, Ant, how's it going, man? Got that engine working yet?"

"Still working on it, Dave," the old guy called back. "Seized solid, might have to get it hauled and rebuilt. God forbid I have to replace it. Christ knows what the bozo did to it, but he sure didn't maintain them. Half way through stripping it down but I needed a break, so I decided to work on the flybridge wiring instead." He glanced at me. "You and your friend want to come up and have a beer? I need a break, and I could sure do with a cold one."

Dave looked at me. "You want to come up?" he said. "Ant's a nice old guy, swears a bit, that's all, but he's got a heart of gold. He's got soft drinks too."

I shrugged. Before, I would've smiled. Now? I wasn't quite sure I knew how to smile anymore. "Why not, not like I've got anything else to do, is it?" My lips twitched like they were trying to smile but they'd really forgotten how. "And hey, I get to look at two boats for the price of one."

Not that there was a price, and I was enjoying looking, close up. This was actually interesting, and I wanted to look.

Dave laughed. "Guess you do," he said. "Come on, over here." He led the way, up some steps, and across onto the deck of the boat. "Mind the gap," he added, reaching out with one hand.

Yeah, well, I don't mind saying I took it. The water was a long way down, it wasn't that clean, and there was a gap. Not a big one, but big enough to swallow me and it didn't look shallow down there either, and I didn't feel like swimming.

"Hey Ant," he said, leading me up this ladder thing to the top of the cabin and jeez, big comfortable looking cushioned seats on both sides, and three single seats on these chromed stands across the front, and some beautiful wooden decking.

Looked immaculate except for what I guess was whatever you called the dash n a boat. It was opened up. Couple of tool boxes and wires and gauges and things all over, hanging out and an awning thing that kept the sun off. Florida! Jesus! Even in winter you needed to keep the sun off. I'd read it snowed in Florida in winter sometimes but so far, nope. Not even cold enough for a jacket. Cold? I was sweating.

"Yo, Dave," Ant said, opening a small fridge. "I got the fridge working anyhow. Have one." He tossed Dave a can of Bud. "What would you like, Miss? Got Bud, got Coke, got Sprite, got Iced Tea, got Red Bull, got..."

"Iced Tea please," I said. "I'm Jenny."

"Pleasetameetya, Jenny," he said, fishing me out an Iced Tea, and it was really cold. Beautifully cold, and it was already hot. Another sunny winter's morning in Florida and not a cloud in the sky. Under the shade that covered the cabin top or whatever it was, there was a soft breeze and it was really nice.

I sat down pretty quick, popped the top on that iced tea and drank, and god it was good. Dave eyed me, and I guess he took in how beat up I was from that walk, 'n him and Ant started talking about the boat, and whatever it was that Ant was doing to it. Me, I listened and yeah, it was interesting. Didn't have much idea what they were talking about though.

"Here, Jenny." Dave passed me a bottle of ice-cold water, and god, that was even better. Hadn't realized I was that thirsty. It was half gone before I put it down.

"You okay now?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, kind of grateful.

"You want to look her over inside, Jenny?" Ant asked.

"Sure," I said, actually interested, which was a change coz I hadn't been interested in much for a while now, but I wanted to see what it was like. I followed him down the ladder to that back deck, and the whole dashboard control and wheel thing was replicated down here.

"You can control her from down here inside, or up there on the flybridge," he said, pointing up. "I haven't actually ever taken her out though."

"How long have you had her?" I asked, looking around. The woodwork was beautiful. Gleaming polished wood, and chromed instruments and levers and dials and things, and I had no idea what any of it was for.

"Three years now," he said. "She was really rundown so I got her for a song. Old guy that owned her died, his wife just wanted to get rid of her, she just about gave her to me so she could stop paying the marina fees. Got her hauled and fixed up the hull and deck first, fiberglass had a few blisters and a couple of soft spots but that wasn't any big deal. Had her stripped and patched, and the gelcoat redone, then painted, put her back and started on everything else. Electricals were mostly okay, one engine's great after I overhauled it, but the other was seized up."

He grinned. "That was what I was working on this morning. Anyhow, come on down and have a look around. Just be careful where you put your feet."

"He led me in and through this door thing, and down some more steps and inside, where it was cool and dark until he flicked the lights on.

"Mind your step," he said. "There's crap everywhere and I've got some of the floor panels up. That's the seized-up engine down there."

"That's huge," I said, looking down, and there was all sorts of machinery looking stuff, and pipes, and wiring and tanks, all down there, crowded together, and I had no idea what any of it was except maybe the engines, coz that was obvious. Looking around up here, there was a beat up old couch off to one side, these brown wooden walls, big LCD, sound system, a bar. Some kinda wood that you knew would have looked really nice when it was new, but now it wasn't. Paneling and everything.

"This is the, guess you call it the salon or something fancy," Ant said. "Not to fancy now, but after it's fixed up, it'll look great. Down here and watch the steps. Here's the kitchen and that side's the dinette."

"The kitchen's big," I said. U-shaped, with a full-size fridge and big stove, coffee machine, counter top oven, tiled floor, polished wood countertop, lots of cupboards, all glossy wood and everything. Other side of the aisle, or whatever you called it, there was a big U-shaped dinette, like I'd seen on that RV we'd taken on holiday once except way bigger. Looked really nice.

"Galley and dinette. First things I fixed up after I repaired and painted the hull," Ant said. "Man's gotta eat."

"What's up front?" I asked, curious.

"Washroom in here," he said. "And a cabin this side, bunks, and I got a V-berth up in the bow." He showed me. "Teak planking on the walls there," he said. "Two bunks this side, one that side, hanging lockers, put some bookshelves in here, coz I gotta lotta books."

"Nice," I said, and it did look lovely. Old-fashioned lovely, all old polished wood, like something from fifty years ago, which I guess was about right. "Actually, no, it's beautiful."

"Won't show you my stateroom at the back," he said, grinning. "I'm still working on that. Get that done this year, along with that engine, and there's a guest cabin back there that's next. Gonna turn that into a home office setup."

"Hey, we better wander off, Ant," Dave called down. "Gonna show Jenny a real boat that works next." He chuckled. "Mine."

Me, I kind of smiled, and that surprised me. Couldn't remember when the last time I smiled was. I didn't remember what it felt like either, and it was strange.

"That was awesome, Mr. Ant," I said, following him back up and outside, onto the big deck at the back. "I really enjoyed that." I meant it, too. This morning was full of surprises. I really had kinda liked it, and I hadn't liked much for quite a while.

"Forget the Mister, Jenny. Just call me Ant, and come back anytime," he said.

"Would if they'd let me in," I said. "I'm gonna be here until summer."

"Jeez, you poor kid," he said. "This is an old folks town. You gotta go where there's beaches and stuff to find kids your age."

"Guess I'm shit outta luck," I said, almost smiling again. "Staying here with my Aunt and Uncle."

"Wayne and Suzy. You know, Golden Phoenix Chinese Buffet," Dave said, real helpfully.

"Oh man, that's your Uncle and Aunt? Love that buffet. Go there every Friday for lunch, don't we Dave?" He eyed Dave. "Why don't you talk to the office, get the kid a pass, Dave? Be more fun here than in town at least. You can always chill out up on the flybridge here. Heck, give me a hand if you're bored. Welcome the company."

"Thanks," I said, wondering if I was really gonna get that bored. Been here four days now and I figured maybe I would, and I did like his boat.

"Might just do that," Dave said. "See ya later, Ant. Let's go, Jenny."

Took us another ten minutes to walk along, real slowly, all the way to the far side of the marina, and then out on one of the docks. Out and out, and we must have passed about fifty boats, half way out to the end, and he turned down one of the little jetty's between the tied up boats, and there were some steps...

"Wow, is this yours?" I said, pausing and looking, coz there was only one boat it could be. Just looking. She was beautiful, Gleaming glossy white, dark tinted windows, streamlined and she looked like she was flying just sitting there in the water, tied to the dock.

Dave grinned. "Yeah, whaddaya think?"

"Wow." That was all I could say, looking at it. "Wow, what is it?"

"She. Always call a boat 'she'," he said.

"What is she?" I gasped.

"Bertram 61," he said. "Her name's 'No Tan Lines.' Want to look her over?"

"Of course, I do," I said, not even blushing. "Try and keep me off her, now that you've talked me into walking this far. She's beautiful."

He chuckled, taking my hand and helping me up, and I didn't take my hand away even when we were standing in the back. She was just, wow! Wow! Beautiful polished teak deck planking, a beautiful seat I figured must be for fishing, glossy white walls, a big padded couch up against the back wall of, I guess you called it the cabin or something. A frigging aquarium with a lid?

"That's the live bait tank," Dave said, grinning, and I guess he could see where I was looking. Then, looking at me. "Come inside, have a rest and I'll get you another cold drink. You look like you could use one before I show you over her."

"I'm beat," I said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go all exhausted on you. I really want to see her."

"Don't you worry about it," he said, leading me inside. "We're here now, you just put your feet up, have a cold drink and have a rest. I'll make lunch for us both."

"Lie down on the couch." He pointed, and I was so tired, I didn't even look around, although there was so much to look at, all this blue-covered furniture and tinted glass and gleaming wood and what looked like a kitchen to die for. I looked, but my eyes were just about closing as I sat down, put my feet up, and leaned back. That couch was amazingly comfortable in all the right places, and I leaned back and I closed my eyes...