Jack Beale 00 - Dangerous Shoals

berth. The soft, soothing, shooshing sound of the rain as it fell on the coachroof and decks and the slightly louder, steady, rhythmic tapping of drops dripping off of the boom and rigging was hypnotic. He could feel his muscles relaxing and his eyes closed. In moments, he was sleeping soundly as the rain continued its steady rhythm. The next sound he heard was the soft clinking of pans, as if someone was trying hard to not let them clink.
    He pried his eyes open. It was not yet dark, but the light coming through the portlights had a shadow-like quality. The rain had stopped, and it was quiet. As he lay there, he realized that the silence was due to a thick blanket of fog that had swallowed them up, muffling and muting every sound save for an occasional drip hitting the coachroof or deck.
    A single light filled the cabin with an intimacy that was enhanced by the rich mahogany paneling. The soft, yellow glow of the bulb brought back memories of Caribbean nights all those many years ago. He didn’t move until the soft clicks of dishes returned him to the present.
    He sat up and saw Max, her back to him, working at the galley counter. She must have heard him sit up because she turned at the sound. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
    “What time is it?”
    Before she could answer, the cabin clock chimed eight bells. “It’s eight already?”
    “Time flies when you’re having fun,” she answered.
    “I wonder where Daniel is? You haven’t seen any sign of him have you?” “Nothing. Maybe it’s the weather.”
    “Let’s hope.”
    Max had dinner well on the way, so Jack got out a bottle of wine, popped the cork, poured two glasses, and handed one to Max.
    “Thanks.” She took a sip and then looked up at him. The closeness of the cabin didn’t allow for a whole lot of distance between them. He smiled. Then, she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him as his arms gathered her in. He nestled his face into her hair and inhaled her scent. Neither moved nor said anything, until finally her stomach grumbled. She giggled, pulled back, and said, “Let’s eat. I’m hungry.”
    “What do we have?”
    “I brought a roast chicken, a baguette, and some salad.”
    The chicken was cold, and they ate it with their fingers. “How come everything tastes better on a boat?” Max asked.
    “Don’t know, but you’re right; it does.” Jack licked his fingers and reached for another piece.
    After supper was cleaned up, the rain started again. Its soft pattering suggested that another bottle of wine was in order. Conversation went from serious to silly. Soon giggles turned into laughter, Daniel was forgotten, and their laughter turned into passion before sleep came.

CHAPTER 40
    JACK OPENED HIS eyes as the cabin clock chimed seven bells. Instead of the bright, hoped for sunlight, a diffused light filled the cabin, and it was silent, save for the soft sound of water lapping against the hull. It took a moment for him to understand that they were still surrounded by fog. He didn’t move and listened to the silence. The rain had stopped, and all that remained was the occasional drip, as the fog that had condensed against rigging and canvas grew too heavy, succumbed to gravity, and fell at random onto the coachroof or the deck above his head with loud plops. He could hear Max’s soft breathing and smiled.
    He slid out of the berth as quietly as possible so he didn’t wake her. He stood and looked out the portlight into the gray soup around them. It was so thick that he couldn’t even see the shoreline. After one last glance down at Max to make sure he hadn’t disturbed her, he tiptoed out of the forward cabin, pulling the door shut. He put water on the stove for coffee, slid the companionway hatch open, and climbed out into the cockpit.
    It was warmer than he had expected, but the fog had swallowed everything around them. The world had disappeared. A gull cried out and when he turned his head toward the sound, it cried out again, this time seemingly closer, but he couldn’t be sure if it was the same one or another. Fog was like that. It muffled and amplified at the same time. Sounds would jump about, first in front of you, then behind. You could never be sure. He looked toward the bow and could barely see where the boat ended. That was the moment when a very large drop of water hit him on the back of his neck. It made him both flinch and shiver at the same time.
    He could hear the water boiling, and as he began to climb down