Jack Beale 00 - Dangerous Shoals

as they glided past the jetties and out into the ocean. Their attention was focused ahead so they did not notice the lone, early fisherman sitting among the rocks watching them leave.
    As Irrepressible ’s bow split the breakwaters, the change could be felt. Though subtle, it was still there. The ocean, its surface mirror-like, looked as flat as glass and yet they could feel the change as they left the security of the harbor and crossed into the edge of the ocean. Max could feel Jack’s muscles flexing and relaxing as he became one with the boat, reacting to the unseen swell of the ocean, and she smiled. Only the occasional cry of a gull interrupted the almost hypnotic drone of the tireless diesel engine. Both were lost in their own thoughts as Jack guided the three of them on this first small journey of the season.
    As the sun rose higher in the sky, the coolness of the early morning rapidly changed. “It’s getting warm,” said Max.
    She released her grip on Jack, moved forward through the cockpit, and climbed down into the cabin where she began pulling her sweatshirt off. Jack could just see her from the waist up and he watched. She pulled the shirt off like a guy. She grabbed the body and pulled it over her head and for a moment she stood there, arms raised, her head hidden in the sweatshirt. The t-shirt underneath, caught by the sweatshirt, pulled up as well, exposing the soft underside of her breasts. The t-shirt didn’t quite get pulled all the way up, but it was enough. Once her head was free and her arms lowered, the shirt fell back down. She pulled her arms out of the sweatshirt sleeves, dropped it on one of the berths, and tugged her t-shirt back into place. As she climbed back up into the cockpit she saw Jack grinning again. It was a new grin and she smiled at him as she asked, “What are you grinning at now?”
    “Nothing,” he lied. “It’s just such a beautiful day.”
    She knew he was lying, just as she knew why he was probably grinning. She knew that grin and she blushed a little, but didn’t say anything else and rejoined him by the wheel. Leaning against him, she put her arm back around him. Unlike before when she was all sweatshirt and felt like a large stuffed toy leaning against him, Jack could now feel the firm softness of her body as she pressed close to him. She was warm and he smiled and his thoughts strayed as they motored out toward the mile buoy. “Jack.”
    “What?”
    “Do you think that before the summer really gets crazy we could get away, sail somewhere? It wouldn’t have to be far, just somewhere where there would be no distractions, just us.”
    “Sure. I don’t see why not. The only danger is that we might not want to return,” he said looking down into her eyes.
    “I’d agree if we were back in Belize on d’Riddem , but I think that a few days will be enough for now,” said Max as she squeezed him.
    “Hmmm.”
    As they approached the mile buoy, the oily smoothness of the ocean began a magical metamorphosis. A faint breeze began to fill in and swells, barely felt before, now visibly undulated beneath them and the once glass-like surface of the water shined like the scales of a large silver fish. It was as if they were riding on the back of that glorious shiny creature. Turning around the buoy, Jack pointed Irrepressible back toward the harbor. With the sun at their backs, the land seemed to glow. When they were about halfway back, Jack broke the silence. “Fishermen.”
    “What?” replied Max.
    “Ahead. On the jetty.”
    “I don’t see anything.”
    “You will.”
    It wasn’t long before Max finally saw them. At first she only saw splashes of color and some movement out on the rip-rap of the jetty. As they slowly closed on the harbor’s entrance those anonymous shapes took form, and she could see that they were indeed the fishermen that Jack had tried to point out to her earlier. A few were still climbing over the rocks looking for just the right spot while others were already in position.
    As the boat reached the first buoy at the harbor mouth, one fisherman caught Jack’s attention. He was right on the end of the jetty. There was a cooler nestled into the rocks beside him. His rod was held out in front with the tip dipped toward the water, the line was out, and he was sitting there, waiting, as fishermen do. “He must have been one of the early ones,” thought Jack. He didn’t remember seeing him as they motored out of the harbor, but then,