Saling to The Bottom

Leslie's whoring days were also on hold courtesy of a long scar from her breastbone to her abdomen. In time, that would heal to be nearly invisible, and I knew she planned a sexy tattoo to hide it entirely. In the interim, she had taken up financial consulting and was making a pretty penny at that. My time was taken up taking care of my daughter. I would have to consider going back to work soon, but I was dreading a return to the legal profession.

Bobby Benson invited us down to St Lucia for the fourth of July. "I'm taking the month of July off. My first real vacation in a decade, and I could use a guide to the place. I think you owe me, buddy. So, what do you say?"

I said maybe, but Leslie and Kat were a definite yes. They wanted to see not just the island, but Orian and Diane again. Leslie planned a reunion for our first night on St. Lucia.

"You sure all this is necessary?" I asked as the bags were loaded into a cab to the airport.

"You never know we might decide to stay a while," Leslie said as a sly smile passed between my wife and my daughter.

The plane trip down was uneventful, and a mild storm season was predicted due to the El Nino effect.

We walked into Adele's bar/restaurant to find Diane already making the moves on a tourist couple.

"The waves were fifty feet and the wind two hundred miles an hour. Never been a storm like it, but I sailed the sloop, Annabelle, through," she said spinning the tale to incredible heights for her audience.

"Really," I said from behind her. She turned and jumped up embracing me. "The man himself," she exclaimed, "Captain of the Annabelle," as she said this those in the bar turned our way, and there was applause.

Orian and Adele made their appearance, and we were seated around a large table with Bobby and his friends. Everyone seemed to want to hear the story of hurricane Maria. Orian let me begin, but my version was not up to the standards that the story had achieved in my absence. Orian's waves stretched to a hundred feet, and the wind knew no bounds. It was clear that our encounter with Maria had taken on the position of Island legend. It was a pleasant evening with old friends and new. We agreed to meet Bobby at his cottage at Marigot Bay the following morning at 10:00 a.m.

"Now don't be late," he told me, "I'll have company, and they'll be expecting to meet you."

Bobby met us at his house and walked us down toward the dock. A small crowd seemed to have gathered.

"Is that the governor general," I asked Bobby.

"Yep and a few of the other local pols," he replied

Just then the crowd parted, and I caught sight of Diane standing on the bow of a sloop with Buster. I froze unable to move. "I'd swear that was Annabelle," I said.

"You'd be right," Orian said appearing at my side.

"But HOW!"

"Your lady. She called me from the airport the day you left and told me that no matter the cost, I was to see Annabelle put right."

I looked, but I could not find Kat or Leslie; they had faded back. There was a little ceremony everyone was very proud of the little boat that had fought the great storm. There was a plaque for her bow and a speech from the Governor. The politician's words were subtle but clear. The U.S. Government had failed to make Puerto Rico right, but the spirit of the Caribbean people would prevail just as Annabelle her courageous captain and crew had prevailed. The Islands would recover and be put right just as Annabelle had been. "The Sloop Annabelle is a testament to the courage and endurance of the people of the Caribbean. "

At this point, Diane broke a bottle of Champagne over the bow, and a general cheer went up.

That night we, my family and crew slept aboard Annabelle thirty feet from the shore, a short but sometimes trying distance.