Chapter 7: Aboard The 'Layla'
Bright and early the next morning, Gibbs found the Bravo docks easily enough and strode down to slip 23. He spotted the slip number and got his first sight of Emily McLaren's floating home. The 'Layla' was breathtaking. She was not just some dock-bound casual live-aboard. This was a serious ocean-going sailing yacht. And preparations had already begun for their journey today… He saw that the shore power had already been disconnected; the thick power wires and water supply hoses were all neatly coiled on the edge of the dock.
Before going any further, he stopped for a moment and admired the boat itself. All 45 gorgeous feet of her. She had elegant and graceful lines, a proud classic bow and plenty of freeboard. She was sleek, with a generous amount of teak deck boards, all of which were stained a deep chestnut color, and all the bright work gleamed and sparkled. Everything aboard was lashed down and stowed neatly… all the lines and extra rigging bundled, wrapped and pinned. He was impressed, this beautiful boat was very well taken care of.
A retractable bimini made of sturdy burgundy canvas covered the helm station at the far aft of the vessel, with clear zippered curtains that went all the way down and attached to the decking, making a nice cozy wheelhouse-style enclosure for either sunshade or foul weather protection. For today, all the side curtains had been rolled up and were firmly secured with small bungee cords. A large Danforth anchor hung snugged up below the bowsprit, attached to a good rode of sturdy anchor chain that disappeared into the remote controlled windlass mounted on the foredeck, making it easy to weigh anchor from the helm station with the push of a button… At least, that was how it was supposed to work, but this was reportedly the offending piece of equipment that was to be repaired today, down in Harper's Bay…
He shielded his eyes with one hand and looked up at the towering twin masts. The rigging lines softly whistled and twanged in the light breeze, and he could see auto-furling gear on both of the massive spires. He also spied a small Faruno radar pod high up on the forward main mast. He then noticed several small little bright orange ribbons attached to the rigging lines in various strategic locations, and watched them squiggling in the light breeze. He recognized them immediately, and couldn't keep a knowing grin from curling across his lips.
Tell-tales… He knew exactly what they were. Those tiny little ribbons were small, whisper-thin tendrils of light nylon fabric that both sailors and snipers were equally quite familiar with, and also very dependent upon. Designed to reveal every subtle nuance of Mother Nature's ever-changing air currents in real-time.
Gibbs recalled Emily saying that she had this boat rigged for single-hand sailing… and it was certainly evident. He had no doubt that she could do it, but with a vessel this size it could be rather challenging.
He was honored to have been invited along. He was definitely looking forward to getting out on the water and seeing what this beautiful vessel could do. It had been far too long since he had been out here, dancing with the wind, feeling the salty splash as the bow sliced through the sea… He could hardly contain himself at the prospect of what the day held in store.
Not to mention the fact that this amazing boat also had an equally beautiful Captain. He already admired and respected her. And he knew that there was definitely a powerful attraction…
Knock it off… he chided himself. This is not a date…
As if on cue, the companionway doors slid open and Emily stepped out onto the deck wearing beige deck shoes, crisp white shorts, and a pale blue button-down stay-dry shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her light auburn hair was pulled into a gentle ponytail, but several defiant strands had already let loose. An expensive looking pair of blue mirrored lens sunglasses was perched atop her head, keeping the loose tendrils of hair somewhat at bay for the moment. She laid a large chart book down on the deck table before she turned and noticed him standing there.
"Hey there. Good Morning," she said cheerfully. She was wearing a chunky silver wrist watch, definitely a men's style. It looked well-worn, and had a dark blue metallic face. She tilted her wrist and checked it, then looked back at him with a smile. "You're right on time."
Gibbs grinned. "Habit," he said warmly. "Permission to come aboard?"
Emily gave a light laugh. "Granted," she said, still smiling. "And from now on, you don't need to ask."
"She's quite a beautiful boat," Gibbs said appreciatively as he stepped aboard.
"Thanks," Emily replied. "She's my baby. Wherever she is, I'm home. C'mon. Let me show you around."
She gave him a quick tour around the top deck, showing him where things were stowed, all the gear and sail lockers, fenders and extra lines, ground tackle, flare gun, life jackets, and first aid kit. Then gave him a briefing on everything at the helm station: First going over the state-of-the-art GPS NAV system and the fully coupled hydraulic self-steering gear, and finishing with the full color radar scope. Gibbs quietly followed Emily around and absorbed everything, getting comfortable and familiar with the lovely Layla. They ended up back at the deck table.
"Here's where we're going," she said, pointing to a spot on the oversized waterproof chart. "South end of Harper's Bay. Winds today are gonna be out of the East at about 8 to 10 knots. Should make for an easy sail. I plan to run the main sheet, and hoist a Genny. Then balance the helm with a working sail on the aft mizzen. Nothing complicated. She only drafts 6 feet, so there'll be plenty of water under her keel the whole route. Figured we can have lunch on-board while the guys work on the windlass, then head back the same way. Depending on how long the repairs take, we should be back just before sunset."
"Sounds like a plan," Gibbs responded, smiling. He was absolutely chomping at the bit to get out on the water, but he was also really enjoying the full tour of the boat. Emily also seemed delighted to have someone so attentive and interested to show off her nautical home to.
"That takes care of everything topside," Emily offered. "Let me show you around down below, and we can get underway."
Gibbs nodded and followed her through the companionway. The main salon was quite comfortable, the boat's design making efficient usage of every square inch. Although not overly broad-beamed, there was plenty of room to move around, and there was none of the tight, claustrophobic feeling that some other boats could have. A comfortable L-shaped sofa curled around a large wooden pillar table which dominated the main salon. Another matching small sofa and chair sat comfortably across from it. Looking around, Gibbs noticed several wooden rails and inset cup holders in all the appropriate places. Mounted up on the starboard wall was a moderate-sized flat screen TV, and a small surround-sound system. The galley sported a four-burner cooktop, a small oven, and a wall-mounted convection microwave. Multiple rows of expensive-looking crystal stemware hung neatly upside down in polished brass rails, sparkling and reflecting the warm interior light.
The whole interior was done in rich, heavy wood tones with accents of brass and steel, and the same dedicated organization applied here as well. Everything was in its place and well-secured. A very heavy antique-looking barometer hung prominently on one wall, mounted on a thick chunky piece of very weathered wood. Its large, thick glass covered dial showed the temperature, pressure and humidity readings precisely with its ornate scrolled golden hands. The other wall held a montage of several personal photos. Some showed just Emily, in full desert camouflage combat gear. A few others were candid photos snapped of other soldiers; some men, some women.
The last thing taking up the entire rest of the available wall was a large framed color poster of a huge whale tail disappearing into a deep blue ocean.
His eyes continued methodically summarizing the room, and that's when Gibbs noticed the woodwork. It was stunningly beautiful. He reached out and slowly traced a finger along a stretch of an expertly carved wooden rail… feeling the grain, the subtle variances in the carvings… nearly mesmerized by it…
"That's black walnut," Emily offered. "I've got some mahogany pieces in the forward berth. Stuff is gorgeous, but God, it's a real bear to work with. Like carving wrought iron."
Breaking his brief reverie, he looked at her, surprised.
"You did this?" He asked.
"Yeah," she answered matter-of-factly. "I love hand-carved wood. I did just about all the woodwork in here myself. Let me tell you, this old girl didn't look anything like this when I first got her. Can't believe it's been so many years ago… Anyway, it's been kind of a labor of love… as well as making her a great place to live. She's rock solid dependable…" Emily added, looking around fondly. "She's always taken very good care of me."
"Looks like you've taken pretty good care of each other," Gibbs replied, sincere in the compliment.
"Yeah… I guess we have," Emily smiled back, her green eyes sparkling. She held his gaze for a moment, then continued the tour, opening all the various latched doors, including the main Captain's berth, which was the nautical equivalent of a home's master bedroom.
Positioned up in the far forward bow of the boat, it was the most spacious of all the rooms on board, and it was her very personal domain. The generously comfortable room held many more feminine touches than the rest of the boat, and much softer lighting. Soft gauzy curtains covered the port-hole windows, and well-secured candles and small strands of sparkling crystal beads were scattered around the room. Sitting center stage was a rather large and thickly stuffed bed, covered with a huge hand-made quilt that draped all the way to the floor, tastefully embroidered with stars and anchors.
Glossing over all the pointedly feminine aspects, Emily quietly pointed out the woodwork she had done, and Gibbs marveled at it. The delicately carved scrolls and patterns in the richly finished mahogany was even more impressive than the walnut work in the main salon. Absolutely exquisite.
They finished the tour with a perusal of all the master control switches at the main radio console, which also had a twin GPS system and radar display screen just like the main helm.
"God forbid we ever need it, but if anything ever goes totally wrong, all the emergency frequencies are written down right here," she pointed to a printed card next to the massive array of electronics.
She paused and looked around. "Well, I think that pretty much covers everything. Any questions?"
"Nope," Gibbs answered with a comfortable, satisfied grin. "Very thorough briefing, Captain."
She flashed a beaming smile.
"Thanks. So… you ready to go?" She asked.
"Yep," Gibbs nodded and they both headed back topside.
Once out on deck, Emily paused for a moment, and looked around briefly.
"Hang on a sec," she said. She quickly slipped two fingertips between her lips and huffed out a short but ear-splitting whistle. "Samson!" She shouted.
Gibbs looked and saw a flash of black fur tear around a corner and come flying down the dock at full tilt.
"Come on Sammy," Emily called. "Get your fuzzy little butt on board."
The little curly haired dog leapt onto the port side deck of the boat, tail wagging wildly.
"That's Samson," Emily said to Gibbs. The little black dog was maybe 12 pounds, with an adorable friendly face. The cute furball immediately came over and investigated the new male on board, and within seconds was happily licking Gibbs extended hand. "My vicious guard dog," Emily added with a chuckle.
"Yo, Samson," Emily said, snapping her fingers. "Get below. Go on." The little dog obeyed and quickly disappeared through a small doggie door installed in the companionway.
"Let's get out on the water," Emily asked as she slipped behind the big ships wheel at the helm. "Wanna get the bow lines?"
"Sure," he answered, and nimbly made his way to the front of the boat.
She watched as he deftly undid the lines from their cleats, then skillfully snapped them taut before releasing them, causing them to whip up and land on the forward dock, perfectly positioned for easy retrieval when they returned. She was impressed already. Clearly he did know his way around a sailboat, and obviously knew what he was doing. How incredibly refreshing… This was shaping up to be a wonderful day…
Emily fired up the inboard engine and loosed the stern lines.
"Bow's free," Gibbs called back.
"Stern's free," she replied, "I have the helm. Leaving the dock."
Emily clicked the engine into Reverse and slowly backed the stately vessel from her slip, expertly maneuvering the big sailing yacht with practiced familiarity. As soon as the bow was clear, she dropped it into Forward, slipped on her sunglasses, and headed for the channel exit from the Marina.
Once they were clear of the Marina markers and out into open water, the decision was quickly made to switch to pure wind power.
Emily began issuing gentle directives, which Gibbs then responded to both quickly and efficiently. She admired how smoothly he moved around the deck, his lean muscular frame coordinated in perfect sync with the rhythm of their sail.
Their communication quickly became both easy and comfortable; the two of them working together like a well-oiled machine. Before long, they were footing along rather nicely in the gentle breeze, both enjoying themselves more immensely than they ever could have imagined…
Way too soon, the channel buoys marking the entrance into Harper's Bay came into view, and the glorious morning's sail was hauled down as Emily pushed a button and the big yacht's motor power quietly rumbled to life…
A/N: This is such an integral part of this story and had so much going on, I had to break this up into more than one chapter… Fear Not! The rest is coming along very shortly! Sincerest thanks for all the fabulous reviews… I truly appreciate them! Thanks for reading!