Number six in the Mystery Skipper series
The owner had telephoned to let me know that he was sending four of his friends to use his boat for a ten day period and he told me to tread very carefully with one particular couple who were having, what he described as some marital problems. Well that is the way the boss explained the situation and I knew he had to know all about marital problems and alimony, because he was at that time with wife number five, who he had married when he was fifty. Mind you shortly after honeymoon five, on his next visit to the yacht (as usual without his wife) he began the interview process for number 6, but that’s another story. I’m not sure, but I think he is planning to have married six by the time sixty and each one younger than the last.
What seemed like enough Louis Vutton luggage to fill an aircraft hanger arrived with the four guests in Nassau and after five trips in the guest tender the Bosun had everything and everyone embarked. The first couple to board were petite, blond Jeannie who was married to big, balding, brash Bob; Bob was in real estate. The second couple consisted of the tall, svelte, fiery redhead, Lindy-May, married to Irving, a corporate lawyer and immediately on meeting them, I could see they were no longer at the cooing and cuddling stage. In fact the atmosphere between them was positively frigid, a clever achievement in the hot Caribbean climate. Lindy-May lived up to her colouring in all other ways though and the whole crew soon knew, or rather heard, that she did not like her allocated cabin or, probably more to the point, sharing it with Irving. That certainly set the scene for the next few days and nothing was ever right for her no matter how hard we all tried. First she complained the champagne was too cold, then the new bottle the Stew served was too warm, her morning cup of hot water with just a squeeze of lemon was too sharp, her egg white omlette had too much salt (though the Chef swore he never put any in at all)…… and so it went on. Poor Irving just raised his eyes to heaven and clearly wished he was somewhere else. Trying to sort out the desired itinerary for the next few days with all the guests was not easy and required all my years of diplomacy as yacht Captain. Nothing was clearly going to please Lindy-May; I decided then that this was to be charter where I would make myself scarce and confine my conversations to essential ship operations. Both Jeannie and Bob seemed unfazed by the carryings on of the rowdy redhead but it was clear from the way that she looked at him that Jeannie felt embarrassed for poor old Irving.
Needing to talk the guests the next morning, I reluctantly went to the aft sun deck. As I was chatted to Irving, Lindy-May stalked up and requested I tell her husband she was going for a swim and if he was going to swim as well then would he please confine himself to the port side because she was going to swim on the starboard side. I fled back to the safety of the Bridge as fast as I could. At lunch Lindy-May was upset because the yacht was gently rolling in the anchorage. The first I knew about it was her appearance in my sanctum, clearly on the warpath. “Captain”, she demanded, “why can’t we anchor there where that boat is, it isn’t rolling” and she pointed to a very large ketch. “No Ma’m”, I carefully explained, “that’s because beneath the water she has keel of around 100 tons that stops her from rolling. The actual swell affecting that part of the anchorage is just as much as in our present location.” Lindy-May glowered at me and said it didn’t matter and that she knew she would not feel so ill if we moved to that side of the bay. We hoisted the tenders started the engines, weighed anchor, moved across the bay, dropped anchor almost under the stern of the ketch and rolled just as I predicted, but Lindy-May seemed placated.
As the week went on, conversation between Lindy-May and Irving became more and more strained and Lindy-May was fast earning the title of Number One Charter Guest from Hell. She seemed to think that all my stewardesses would side with her, just because she was a woman but failed to realise that every time she moaned about something it strained their good nature even further. My chief stewardess was in the habit of keeping the selection of suntan lotions inside the small refrigerator on the sundeck, a clever idea that stops it become so liquid that it falls out of the tube and drips on to the teak deck. Lindy-May thought this a splendid solution to the problem but then exasperated the good-natured girls by insisting that they warm it for her before she put it on her body.
The night before the charter ended we were at anchor in a little cove far from the maddening crowds but ideally situated for a quick run to the airport the next day. Irving had been fussing around Roger the Mate all day asking questions about our tenders, closely inspecting the controls and asking how easy it was to drive. He gave the impression that he might buy something similar himself when he got home and Roger, ever keen to show off his seamanship skills, patiently ran through the running operations showing him how to start and stop the engine. Jeannie had also suddenly shown an interest in yachting matters, directing her attentive towards seamanship with with Arthur, the second Mate. She insisted he explained the local chart in detail, she wanted to know exactly where the captain had, to use her words, parked the boat this evening. She showed an intense interest in the local hazards, currents and tides, and was very keen to establish our exact track to the airport the next morning.
The next morning the crew turned to fairly early to prepare for our departure. I was just enjoying my first coffee of the day in the crew mess when Philip appeared at my side clutching an envelope marked Captain. I found it on the chart table, he said. Judging by its thickness, I assumed it contained some nice, large denomination, bank notes left as a gratuity for my crew by the guests, I didn’t immediately open it. But seconds later Sally, my Chief Stew, came rushing in, waving a similar envelope and giggling. “Have you opened yours yet Captain?” she asked. “No”, I said, suddenly very suspicious. “Well I think you should,” she said with a huge grin. I opened the envelope and scanned the contents, namely a letter to me and an envelope marked for the attention of Bob clearly written by Irving. In the letter addressed to me, Irving apologised to me for any inconvenience caused by his borrowing the guest tender to take him and Jeanie to the airport and asking me to pass the enclosed envelope to Bob. It seemed Jeanie and Irving have been having an affair for years without their spouses catching on but this trip had driven them to breaking point. Barley able to contain her glee at the thought of how Lindy-May would take this news, Sally showed me her letter from Jeanie with its envelope insert for Lindy-May. Before I had time to do anything I heard a light aircraft approaching. as it flew low overhead I swear it wiggled its wings as if to say adios.
