Romancing a Fisherwoman

"Rightly or wrongly, I went it alone, not wanting to use my parents as leverage, but none of the cray-fishing outfits in this area where I had chosen to settle, would sign on a female. By this time, I had become friends with Tony Finch's wife Mary-Anne at a book club and she told me the interests in Lady Rigby were seeking a replacement deckhand without much success. I went aboard and was interviewed and here I am, requiring your endorsement if I'm to sail on Monday."

Henrietta said, "You are overly qualified to be the deckhand on Lady Rigby, Linda. However, I'm grateful that you've come to us in our hour of need. You're approved, darling, and sign on at our accountant's office before you sail. Your conditions of employment are Henri's responsibility because he has to sail relying on you. Congratulation."

"May I kiss you?"

"Whatever for, I'm just an old battle-axe locked in her past."

"It's because I'm excited to be approved and excited about getting back to sea again and I'm already becoming pretty keen on your son."

"Well, I never. Yes, kiss my cheek dear. You are an admirable personality and I love that you believe that you are becoming keen on my son. You see, I believe he needs to drink less and love more to be a real man. Those are old values, I must say."

Chapter 4

On Monday, still the best part of an hour before dawn, Linda dressed in black mid-calf 33 cm high rubber sea boots, jeans and a roller neck jersey of coarse wool and with her hair under a solid beanie, cast off the final line holding the Lady Rigby to the wharf.

"Fully cast-off skipper and all clear," she yelled.

"Come make us coffee and toast," Henri called through the hooked open door of the wheelhouse.

In the wheelhouse, Linda glanced at the radar screen and automatically said, large vessel entering port to our starboard."

"Thanks, I already have its lights and those of the two tugs under visual surveillance.

She blushed heavily, realizing she wasn't the skipper on a larger fishing boat alerting the helmsman.

"Thanks for that alert, Linda. Keep on doing it. I could miss a first sighting being busy picking my nose."

She thought Henri was so sweet for not mauling her verbally over that indiscretion but he'd indicated it was okay and he wanted her to keep providing feedback.

The sound system had finished playing the boat's sail-away signature tune, 'Eleanor Rigby' by the Beatles and next up with a rowdy noise, leaving Linda to think that two drum sets were in action involving drummers who's yet to find their feet, musically.

She patted the skipper on the butt as she turned to the minute galley and regarded his response as cute.

"The zip is on the other side of me," he quipped.

Linda laughed and wondered where the word 'cute' had come from. She believed she'd never used it in her life until now.

Was that amazing, or silly? She was unable to decide but as she dropped two slices of bread into the toaster with the coffee maker already doing its job, Linda realized she and the skipper had just exchanged their first truly intimate moment and yes, even far more reaching than that moment in that moment when she caught the look in Henri's eyes when he saw her wearing for the first viewing of that dress he'd urged her to acquire. Until then, his reaction to her had been more or less predictable.

She thought wow, she was falling for him. Until now, she'd doubted that it would happen, as she'd believed she was off males for good.

"You lovely man," she called.

"What was that? Couldn't hear over the noise of the engine," he claimed.

She smiled and checked the progress of the toasting bread. He would have heard her; Henri appeared to have better than average vision and hearing and she was finding he could tease rather artfully. She also had well-tuned hearing and vision. She recalled her father saying that was quite common among people who spent a significant portion of their time working amid nature and she believe that even in their environment, it applied even though they worked and lived amid a noisy boat engine.

She would have said something like, "How is that dad?" as she remembered him saying that that thumping sound of the diesel engine down below probably made fisherman listen harder to hear the scavenging gulls circling above them as well as for vocal intercommunication between people aboard, sometimes working quite a distance from one another and in calling to crew aboard close-passing boats.

Cray-fishing was conducted in inshore waters reasonably close to land, and so cell phones could be used for communication aboard a fishing boat. But a phone could be a pain for anyone with layers of clothing and wearing protective gloves.

When buttering the toast, Linda had more romantic thoughts, wondering where would she be resting and/or sleeping later that day. The possibility of sharing a bed with the skipper began to dominate her thinking.

* * *

Henri didn't need to glance at the GPS screen or an electronic chart to know where his was. Just a glance at the clock and at a familiar landmark on the rugged coastline and he'd know from the time the distance they'd travelled on that sunny day and the post-dawn fairly flat sea how far they'd travelled with a cross-check with a prominent point he recognised on the landscape and he called, "We're forty minutes from you lowering the first pot in the area in which we are licensed to harvest crays."

"Aye, aye skipper. Had a good idea of our position when glancing at the navigation screen."

"Of course, no flies on you (one meaning of that meaning animals/humans moving actively don't allow flies to settle on them)," he said easily and drew an appreciative laugh.

He looked in her direction.

Linda was still in her summer dress, not yet changed into work clothes. She leaned over to pour coffee and he almost gasped, and thought great butt. Looking forward again he checked the more than 180-degree view and from the distant land to the sea horizon to the port, it was all clear ahead.

Sitting on the swivel helmsman's chair, Henri wondered when he would get his hands on that body. Perhaps tonight?

They had agreed not to push it but, for fuck sake, how long was 'soon'. He was now in favour of rushing it, and wondered if Linda even thought of wanting him to tail her, err to have sex with her.

Yeah, the old scenario, 'Me Tarzan, you Jane' currently was having a most favourable in his front of mind. But what if she was next to hopeless at it?

The groan, "No don't" escaped his lips.

"What was that?" she called but was ignored. He turned up the radio station broadcast and was pleased that Madonna woman was belting out a great song ... oh fuck, it was about unreturned love.

Then Linda came to the rescue.

"Our snack is ready. Do you want yours there, or will you switch to auto and come to the table?"

"I'll come to the table so I can look at you."

He'd said that deliberately and hopefully.

"Oh, you poor man. You are without Tony to chat about weekend sport."

"And cars and women," she said in a neutral tone, "And 'women' is code for having sex?"

"Yeah, he replied. "Sorry,"

"Don't apologize, Henri. Women think about sex too, though nowhere as much as men do."

"Did I know that?" he said, walking to the table.

"I would think so," she laughed invitingly."

"You look great, rather beautiful,"

She smiled very openly and then switched off by saying, "This time must be used by you explaining this morning's duty of your crew person in complete detail so that I don't fuck up."

"Sure," he said sadly biting into his piece of toast and thinking his crew person was eyeing him sympathetically.

"May I sneak a kiss?"

She smiled and said sweetly, "Not now, let's operate professionally but that should only apply until we have finished our chores for the day and are heading to your selected anchorage for the night."

"Should I work on the deck this first day for you, and you can operate as relief skipper."

"No way, buster, and if you insist then expect a full-blown mutiny."

He waved what was left of his piece of toast in capitulation and was rewarded by receiving and gentle stroke down his cheek, that reverberated sensual waves the culminated at his groin.

"Delicious," he smirked but Linda misinterpreted.

"Christ, it's only fresh buttered toast, the bread I picked up from the bakery on our way to the boat."

He blew her a kiss and she coloured.

Wow, was he almost on a good thing or what?

Chapter 5

They worked leisurely, actually with Linda doing most of the work, lowering their 40 pots of the 56 pots on board baited mainly with fresh oily fish heads. They were in no hurry because crayfish are nocturnal wandering and feeders, as detect food by smell.

Next morning, the skipper would move into position of each pot with it's unique number by moving the boat alongside each numbered float (two 8-inch surface floats per line locatable by GPS but more often that not locatable by eye in memory of where they were set not far off-shore.

Henri was impressed by the speed and efficiency of his new deckhand as the 40 pots were lowered and release inside the time that Tony and other guys before him took on average to lay the pots. Still, it could be assumed that Miss Galloway would be out to impress, figuring her skipper could be a difficult bugger to please.

They drifted with the engine off and had late lunch, drinking only plain water.

"You did good."

"I assume you mean I did well."

He shrugged and said she was advised not to assume too much about her new skipper.

"Thanks," Henri. "Please don't punish me by handing out extra work as a penalty for me working efficiently."

She saw the grin and was satisfied he'd heard that message.

He'd prepared lunch of cold sliced lamb shoulder, two types of commercially prepared lettuce salad mixed with cold slaw, crated carrot and freshly sliced tomato, cucumber and pickles while Linda had been making everything on the aft deck ship shake and finishing by pressure hosing the decking.

"You'll probably get sick of cold meat and salad but in colder weather I serve hot food, usually a rice or pasta dish."

"Salad is good for my figure."

He chuckled and said he'd see it soon enough.

He turned to look skywards to hide his embarrassment, as he'd not intended to unleash sexist comment.

"I bet you never used to comment to your male crewman like that."

He cringed.

"Sorry."

He said forget it; he'd started it.

After fifteen minutes of chatting after lunch, Henri started the engine and headed to his favourite overnight anchorage on this part of the coast.

They were running with a following swell and Linda, coming over from reading on the sofa when hearing the revs of the engine drop substantially looked ahead and said nervously, "Have you been through that narrow entrance before?"

"Aye, many times but it's a bitch to exit from is a big easterly is blowing."

"Is one expected?"

"Not soon, we're in a nor-easterly set that may last for several days, even weeks, until the high-pressure system weakens allowing some shit to blow up from the south."

"Will other craft be in there?"

"Not usually mid-week. Probably at weekends though with families camping on the beach."

"Beach?"

"Yeah, the inlet is called Secret Cove as it's secret attraction is hidden to marine passers-by. I'm probably it's most regular user, but who knows?"

"Thanks for bringing me here as I know by the tone of your voice that you practically revere coming here."

"Good guess, but you are my crew so your arrival at Secret Cove was inevitable."

"True, but I still feel privilege, Henri. I adore being treated special and being given surprises. We both are aware that nature is full of surprises while is also has a darker side."

They passed through the entrance with towering cliffs on both sides and Henri turned to starboard where the longer stretch of the cove with its short sandy beach flanked by rocky shorelines gave the most sheltered anchorages. No other craft were in the cove and there was no sign of campers on the beach."

"Is access only by sea?"

"Absolutely," Henri said. "I'd said those surrounding cliffs are virtually unscaleable to every-one by expert cliff-climbers. Notice how the beach is fairly short?"

"Yes," said Linda. "The incoming ocean swells bring in sand and the outgoing tide may take a portion of that back out to sea and the geographical formations limiting the size of the beach prevent littoral drift disturbing sand to one or both sides of the natural beach."

"Ah yes, you did mention you had a degree in marine science."

She giggled and said, "Well picked up, Mr Sharp Eyes."

"Ah yes, I could stay here for a hundred years, Henri, or until I get the urge to go shopping, whichever comes first."

Henri said, "That's very cute. I never envisaged that I would find a female crew member at all appealing."

Linda said nothing, probably lost in her thoughts.

Henri turned Eleanor Rigby around to face the direction of the incoming high tide and picked his accustomed possie to release the anchor.

Opening the other window at the front of the wheelhouse, Linda sniffed the incoming flow of air and sighed, "Wonderful, sea air mixed with the smells from primate vegetation."

"Well, we have that in common," said her skipper. "I'm off to shower and change. Please check over the next five minutes that our anchor is holding and then your work for the day will have finished."

"Would you like me to get dinner?"

"Not tonight, thanks Linda. I have a meat pie, potato salad and a peach sponge thawing and so serving us dinner will be a breeze."

Linda returned to the wheelhouse after her shower to find Henri reading a motor-vehicle magazine.

He looked up and said, his voice sounding tight, "Haven't you forgotten something?"

"You are only in shorts."

"And you are only in a bra."

"I wanted you to check if I do have a something down below of possible interest to you."

"Linda!"

"What?"

"Err, wasn't it you who said we should not rush into things?"

"I don't care to remember. Anyway, you would have learned many years ago that females are likely to change their mind."

"Yeah, so you have decided you'd like to fuck?"

"Well, I would have preferred that you had expressed that more eloquently, like, um, let me think. Um, that are you ready to be kissed and kissed and petted so beautifully that you'll suddenly feel the neglect of being a nubile female, physically unattended these days that you will cry, 'Take me, fill me until I feel so delicious fuzzy that I'll worry that I may burst asunder and squirt over everything in range'."

Henri looked aghast.

"What is it?"

"Dear Linda, it's impossible for me to say stuff like that because I just don't think like that."

"Please Henri, at least make an effort that will mark your verbal journey into romantic eloquence for my ears only."

"You really want me to try?"

"Ooh, yes please."

"Linda, you hot babe. Let's hit the beach and rip one off after a you jerk my dick and I suck your presumably gorgeous tits."

There was no immediate response.

"Oh shit, have I said something in my wooing that's a little bit off?"

Linda sighed and said, "One small step, one very small step at a time towards mind-blowing sweet talk is at least a positive step forward for you darling Henri."

He replied almost accusatively, "You just called me darling."

"Oh, did I? I must be more optimistic about this than I thought."

"Eh?"

"It doesn't matter, Henri. "Will you accept a small delay?"

"Yes, you'll need to pack nibbles, flask coffee and beer in a bag along with a rug, mosquito repellent and condoms..."

"Are you expecting anal?"

"What, on our first time together? Of course not."

"Then let's do it bareback."

"That requires mutual trust, Linda."

"Of course."

"And we both have to be confidence of our sexual health, too."

"I am," she said.

He replied me too.

Linda said, "Grab some warming clothing for yourself and launch the rubber ducky and I'll perform the woman's role by doing everything else."

He was on to her and said, "Please explain yourself."

"Eh?' she said artfully, and walked off to make coffee and pack food. Then she put on jeans and a top and grabbed a rug and a blanket and casual footwear and as torch.

* * *

Henri beached the rubber ducky and ran the anchor and line above high-water mark and returned and laid out the rug while Linda stood waiting. He looked up at her standing with her hands behind her back and rotating from the hips noticeably and she asked innocently, "What should we do now>"

Let's have our first moments of unrestrained ecstasy on the beach."

"Omigod, what a wonderful way to put it, Henri, assuming you know where to put it."

The naked leer on his face almost made her erupt without even being touched,

And erupt they did, several times over the next hour or so. They were lost in time.

Henri stood wiping sweat from his face on his beach towel, then his chest and then wiped his still erect dick.

"How was that?"

She replied, choosing her words carefully, "Overall, that was moving toward some of the best sexual encounters that I've ever enjoyed."

"How will I know when you believe we've hit the jackpot."

"We'll be continuing to burble sweet nothings and neither of us will be able to stand."

"Thanks, I now know where the jackpot will be attained."

She asked, "How did you find our first and foundation effort.

"My dick fitted you like a hand in a glove. You were quite tight, very mobile and you lubricated excessively which was wonderful. We were almost awash in pussy juice."

"Y-you actually like that. It makes me feel embarrassed."

"Yeah, I love it. The slapping of our wet groins coming together was music in my ears and I believe it got my dick to maximum thickness. But best of all, you were so soft and cuddly with heaps of beautiful sweet kisses."

"Oh darling, are you ready to go again," Linda cooed.

The End