Chapter 6: Crossing the Coast.
Thursday August 9, 2018.
Carlo arrived (late) at 4:32am. Waiting for him I read the summary of electrical repairs the shop did on Susan. The printout listed: replaced damaged wiring, all the photovoltaic panels were replaced (they don't last a long time in direct sunlight), the bearings in the wind generator, and all six deep-cycle batteries. The report summary said if I planned to sail across the Panama Canal (as discussed) Susan would need two additional batteries installed, he quoted me a price of $580.
He wrote instructions on how to charge the batteries from sun and wind power, or switch to shore power charging. There was a small unlabeled toggle switch under the captain's bunk that I never noticed before. His note said switch-up for solar/wind power, down for shore power, middle for charging from the big generator. Then my phone buzzed with a new text message.
Carlo said he was on Interstate-275 about ten minutes away. I got Susan 100% ready to depart the moment he set foot onboard.
Carlo arrived with a small case, wearing nice Hawaiian print board shorts, flip flops, and a snug fitting tank top that left little to the imagination. I started the diesel engine and untied us from the piers and pushed us out into the channel so we could motor towards the bay with the search light aimed like a headlight.
After we cleared the mouth of the outer harbor (by the Coast Guard ships) I got him to join me up front and showed him how to crank sails up and down, we'd do that once we got out onto the Gulf. It's roughly sixteen miles from the harbor to the Gulf of Mexico, at 10mph on full electrical power that's ninety minutes to reach the ocean, then 221 miles to Key West.
With the diesel engine running we can do about 11mph with the propeller and the sails down. With the DC motor running on batteries only we can do about 4-7mph.
He took the sail covers (which were like gigantic zippered tube socks) down below and carefully folded them, I stayed at the wheel as we sailed across the bay.
Exiting Tampa Bay could be tricky but I already marked a GPS point for the best place to sail between Bean Point Park and Passage Key. Since it was like a video game I put Carlo at the helm and told him to sail us directly over the middle waypoint. He shouted that he hit it exactly. I stood on the bow holding one of the steel cables watching for people or small boats, but at 6am the passage should be wide open.
By the time we were on the Gulf the sun was just up and I went below to turn off the lights and lift up the charging switch up because the wind generator was spinning like crazy, much faster than I ever saw it before, and it was quieter too with new bearings.
We sailed two miles west beyond Bean Point Park then made our big turn south and a heading of 172 degrees. Slowly Florida moved further away, Sarasota was the last city we saw high rise buildings from almost 23 miles out from shore.
I stayed at the helm with Carlo during the big turn. We played the radio for a couple hours, I knew the solar panels and wind generator would make more than enough juice to operate the stereo and charge the six brand new deep cycle marine batteries. I went below and changed into my super comfortable gym shorts then back at the helm I did my upper body and legs with sun screen. Carlo sat down on the bench to read a book he brought along. He had his toes against the side of my foot or my leg every time I stood at the helm.
The seas got a bit rougher as the day went by (and the temperature crept higher) but it wasn't a problem. During the main part of the day the person at the helm was mostly in shade from the canvas cover so I never got overheated. We saw a few large ships far to the west of us, he used the binoculars to describe them to me.
At 11am I asked him if he'd like to sunbathe, of course he said yes so I strapped the steering wheel in place and got a beach towel and spread it out on the bench that was in sunlight. I also got a small cushion for his head and a tube of suntan lotion from the bathroom and asked him to strip and stretch out on the towel.
He got down on his back, only wearing sunglasses. I took the sunscreen and started with his hands and arms, then I did his feet and legs.
He raised his knees up and spread 'em wide so I could reach between his thighs, his nuts, around his pubes and even down inside his very deep/wide belly button. Not sure why but I always found wide belly buttons to be very erotic on men and women, the wider the more I liked them but I could never explain why.
My head was constantly on a swivel to make sure the sun was in the right place in the sky that meant we were roughly on course.
Then I slimed his dick but he was already hard. I lubed him with my right hand up and down, end to end and noticed his nuts had quickly raised up into firing position, so I kept going and in no time at all he spurt three lines of semen across his stomach and chest.
I grabbed some paper towels and cleaned him up then finished buttering his front side.
After the front was done he rolled over so I could do his back side, and even carefully did between his cheeks and massaged around his hole with two finger tips. I rubbed his parts exactly how I liked it.
An hour later he joined me by the helm after he got a bottle of water from the cooler and drank the entire thing. I think he actually dozed off for about half an hour.
Carlo resumed reading his book and sat near me by the helm. No matter how I moved around he adjusted his legs so his toes made contact with me the entire time, which I thought was flirty and intimate.
By supper time we'd sailed down to ten miles out from Sanibel Island, I estimated we'd arrive tomorrow morning about the time the sky started to turn blue in the northeast. My next decision was to suggest he go below and nap for a while. Carlo said he was too excited to sleep. I asked if he could make us some coffee and told him about beans, the hand grinder, the stove, the water bottles, and the Italian Espresso maker in the cabinet. I told him to tell me when he was ready to boil water and I'd slow us down. I also said he should use the wire harness I made to hold the espresso maker on the stove.
He added water up to the valve, filled it with ground beans but didn't compress it. He screwed the halves together, strapped it to the stove and lit the burner and told me everything was working fine, but he had to stay below to listen for it to gurgle so he could turn off the gas. He said he'd never seen one of these little coffee pots before and thought it was cute, mine was stainless steel, made in Italy.
The gas stove sat inside a two-axis pivot frame which kept it pretty level on most seas but it still wiggled a lot so I made a wire harness to strap it down to the stove so it didn't fall over.
I watched him step through the cabin door, naked except his sunglasses. No matter where he stood on the boat he looked very masculine and big with sexual power. Sometimes when he stood in certain positions from behind his rounded butt looked like a large boy. He had no hair growing on his back from his neck to his knees, just that small patch on the front.
Spending so much time seeing him naked I wished I could have watched him grow up too, how beautiful he must have looked naked in the high school gym showers with his bubble butt and perfect belly button.
Five minutes later he yelled out the pot started to gurgle. We stood on the back deck together and watched the big yellow ball set to the west, it was a nearly cloudless sky but it still looked pretty. I put my arm over his shoulder and reached down and gently rubbed his tit. I loved the fact that he was willing to spend the day naked so I could enjoy his beauty too. My penis noticed it too, I think I dripped pre-come down my leg all day, I wanted him so badly.
With all the hours I spent at the helm today, some of them watching him walk around the back deck naked I began to wonder if my hunger for his body could ever be satisfied. Was there any single thing I could do to satisfy myself with his body all in one go? For the first time in my life I started to doubt it could be satisfied and wondered what purpose my hunger served. Maybe that was the difference between hunger and obsession, one of them would never be satisfied.
While we were sipping coffee I asked him if he remembered what age his tits got big, what age he started to get pinched at school. He paused to think for a while then said he thought it was 6th or 7th grade but they were large his entire life. He said they sort of puffed up one day and he became self conscious. In gym they frequently played shirts vs. skins games during school and he hated taking his off.
"I don't think I ever really got over it." He softly confided then told me he was not the only boy with tits. I told him there were plastic surgery docs that could go in and remove the stuff that made them puff out, because lots of boys hated their tits but they ended up with horribly disfigured chests for the rest of their lives.
Carlo admitted by the time he learned how to jerk off in 7th grade he also rubbed his tits while he stroked his dick, but the bad part was how others treated him. It wasn't until his first boyfriend in 11th grade that he first received good titty attention and discovered big tits on boys could actually be great fun and a useful tool.
After the sun set we turned around to the east and watched the stars appear, all signs of land to our east were already long gone. It was just us, two (horny) young men and the sea. The stars, the moon, and the night sky looked amazing, I've never seen as many stars as we saw that night.
Around 9pm he offered to make more coffee, then went down into the cabin and came back with two more paper cups of espresso roast Guatemalan coffee, almost too hot to hold.
The gulf had about 1-4 foot swells and a 15mph wind blowing straight south along the coast, but our speed wasn't fantastic, last time I checked we were cruising at 12mph, which was faster than I thought we'd make with smaller waves. After coffee I talked him into moving the mainsail boom further to the side to catch more wind, which gave us another mile an hour. The trip home would be very different if the wind was still coming down the coast. It would probably be a much slower zigzag course all the way back to Tampa Bay. Carlo reminded me when I told him Susan had a racing hull and maybe that's why she was going faster than I estimated it would. Her racing design added a second foresail which was rare in a boat this size but it added speed if the wind was from the correct angle.
After the coffees were gone he offered to make more, I asked about a snack instead. I didn't really want to eat much to avoid any problems with nausea. I explained it to him but he said a few times he was very hungry, so we opened packs of beef jerky and ate them. A few times he hand fed me while I stood at the helm keeping us aimed at 172 degrees.
At home after using our coffee pot I'd dump the grounds into the trash can, but out at sea we had to reach over the side and swoosh the filter in the ocean to rinse the grounds off and the pot too, then a tiny rinse with tank water (to remove the salt) and it was ready to go again.
As he walked around and passed by me I often held out my hand to feel his skin as he walked by, several times the tip of a finger poked a little way into his belly button, which (at night) looked like a black hole.
We had a really nice conversation, me at the helm and him sitting beside me. After he asked a couple times I finally admitted I was a lawyer which made him quiet briefly. As a small business manager he's probably had his share of bad experiences with lawyers. Eventually we got to talking about more pleasant things, like NFL Football - the Buccaneers, the Dolphins, beer, restaurants, but when he started in on Florida politics I refused to discuss that topic. I told him I was not a registered voter and hated all politicians but the corrupt ones even more so.
While we talked he sat on the padded bench to my left and rubbed the side of my leg with his toes. It was interesting talking in near total darkness with a starry sky as the background. Carlo said the night sky out here was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.
Eventually the discussion switched to sex, that was a very enlightening discussion. He admitted he'd like to be married some day, but couldn't swear male or female. He said he liked female bodies and loved the feel of his dick inside a tight pussy, but liked a nice tight ass just as much. He said he loved girl's tits, especially late in pregnancy or while breast feeding. But he admitted the best orgasms he's had were always with guys. Carlo said he could tell within a few seconds the first time she grabbed him if she had any idea how to work one, most girls didn't, and God bless the ones that did. He tried to teach a couple but they ended in hurt feelings and disappointment.
Carlo stepped to the very back of the boat and pee'd into the ocean, then I took my turn while he held the wheel and maintained our heading, 172 degrees.
I asked him if he ever had human breast milk and he said yes, many times. I asked what it tasted like and he said it was like a vanilla milk shake with some added sugar.
He said he dated a girl with a ten month old baby and she'd let him nurse as much as he wanted because she was also using formula but he said it felt very intimate and sexual too. He said he believed some woman felt a small degree of sexual/emotional pleasure during breast feeding, like an endorphin high.
When I looked at my watch again it was 3:01am and we were both tired but happy. I wished we'd had radar on board, but we both kept an eye out for lights (from ships) on the horizon (all the way around), lights like the bright red light on the top of our aluminum mast. The mast went fifty four feet above the water line but it actually extended down to the keel and ran through the cabin behind the dinette backrest, then up through a water tight seal in the cabin roof.
At 3:55am he saw lights on the horizon west of us, probably a freighter heading northbound towards Port Arthur, coming from Europe or the Mediterranean. My best guess was that ship was about eight miles out.
Carlo ran up to the bow then onto the cabin roof with the binoculars to try to make out the ship then shouted to me he could see the huge letters LNG on the tanks. I told him it was probably coming from the island of Trinidad and going to New Orleans where there was a big LNG facility.
After we lost sight of the lights he walked up to me and sort of leaned against me as I held the large wood and chrome wheel. I reached my arm over his shoulders and hugged him a little. Carlo reached over and put his hand on my stomach and rubbed it then went immediately to my knee length shorts and cupped my junk in his hand and gave it a few shakes and a squeeze, I just stood there and glanced at the horizon and the compass heading.
He sat on the bench beside me and rubbed my parts again then sort of rotated me a little and lowered my shorts, they fell instantly to my ankles. By that time I was starting to grow.
He stroked it and within thirty seconds it was pointed at his face. He slipped off the cushion to his knees and took me in his mouth and worked me for a few minutes but I was primed and ready, I think I lasted a few minutes with him pressing my dick against the roof of his mouth with his tongue, he sort of moved his head a little and I felt waves of pleasure, then I felt it start. I warned him a load was coming.
Carlo pulled off and aimed it towards the deck and in the moon light we saw one string shoot out, the rest dripped onto the deck and my shorts.
I told him that was very nice, he could do that any time he wanted.
Carlo went below deck and came back with paper towels and wiped up the slime, he licked the last few drops off the head with his tongue. We kissed briefly and he pulled up my pants and put everything back like it was.
I looked over to the northeast and saw the first glimmerings of deep dark blue off towards the northeast horizon. When I checked the GPS it said we were only 41 miles from Key West. So far I was very pleased with the boat and my companion. Carlo stood at the helm while I got out the reservation printout from the marina and set the Icom radio to their channel, but it was the same as we used in Tampa Bay so I left it with the volume cranked up on the bracket by the pilot's compass.
Slowly, the sky got brighter as we sailed towards the harbor. I changed our course based on the GPS, I'd programmed in a waypoint for the mouth of the harbor based on their website. We'd drifted a little to the west so I had to aim further east. I took a few minutes to dump the sewage tank, but it didn't have much in it.
At 5:59am the sun was almost up and we saw several fishing charter boats heading out to sea, an island with lots of trees and buildings was straight ahead of us on the horizon. With the binoculars I looked for the beacon at the harbor entrance and changed our course a tiny bit because of the wind. While Carlo manned the wheel I dropped the two foresails and slipped on their covers. I also lessened the angle of the mainsail and got us ready to switch on the DC motor that spun the propeller.
Seven miles from the white and blue beacon we'd slowed to 8mph I called the harbor master to confirm we were in the right place, apparently he was watching the sea approaches on a radar display and asked me to flash a light at the beacon. I asked Carlo to flash the light at the harbor beacon. Everything was fine, he saw us, so I dropped the mainsail and switched to battery power for the last three miles. He gave me directions to the slip and said we should walk to the office after a safe landing.
I instructed Carlo how to back Susan into the slip and toss the ropes and how to keep us from bumping against the piers. Minutes later everything was shut down and we were tied up and plugged into shore power. I went to the harbor master's office while Carlo used the bathroom on shore I think he shaved too. I had him flip the switch to the down position for shore power charging.
We took turns taking quick showers, then back on the boat we decided to take a nap. So we shut the cabin door and climbed into the front bunk and fell asleep until his alarm went off at 10am, which gave us almost four hours of shuteye after being up for twenty seven hours.
We spent the rest of the day walking around Old Town, going into clothing stores and looking at souvenirs (and other gay boys) along Duval Street. We had lunch at Sloppy Joe's Bar, Carlo said he was super hungry.
We ordered fried onion rings, then two sandwiches and split them so we both had half of each: The Original Sloppy Joe, and a Full Moon Burger. We also shared one large order of fries with lots of catsup, washed down with Miller Lite and water. Lunch was decent but expensive, the service was good despite them being rather busy. It tasted like their burgers were mostly ground sirloin.
After lunch we rode the free trolley around the island. We saw the big buoy, the furthest south point in the United States and looked around for any rainbow flags but the ones we saw were lesbian clothing and art studios, we saw lots of (older women with) Amelia Earhart haircuts inside those places.
In one antique store (that displayed a small rainbow flag above the door) we looked at their collection of restored mariner's pocket watches and sextants. One was gold plated and about 75 years old but kept almost perfect time, and didn't use batteries. When we looked closely at the watches Carlo was fascinated and asked to see one particular watch. He held it to his ear to hear it tick and asked how accurate it was. The shop keeper pointed to an electronic clock on the wall and said he set it three weeks ago, but he wound a little it twice a week. When Carlo asked the price the dealer said it was a 1948 Elgin with porcelain and gold face, and came with a certified inspection/appraisal, a two year guarantee and repair plan, a chain, clasp, and hinged case for $7,000. Carlo laughed and handed it back, but I said we'd take it.
Carlo instantly looked at me with shock on his face, I just smiled while the dealer did the paperwork and showed us the warranty policy and repair facility information. Before we left he said the green parts on the dial and the hands were probably Radium. He reminded us the watch was 70 years old, we should anticipate some problems with it, but it was perfectly repairable and if taken care of it should be workable for the rest of our lives. He said there were repair parts readily available for this watch and if it ever got smashed there were lots of places that would buy it for parts.
Carlo looked at the case and pointed out a very shiny old looking sextant and asked what it was.
"That's a sextant, its built to an ancient design and can be used for measuring things in the distance, but ask me that question on our trip back home, it's a long story." I told him while the salesman got our pocket watch ready to go.
After the paperwork and charges were done the jeweler opened the back case and showed us some parts called Jewels. These were hollow screws with diamonds inside on which axles for moving parts spun, he showed how they could be screwed out for service and said all the jewels on this watch were almost new, they should last another 30 years if the watch was kept clean and dry. He told Carlo to never open the case himself but Carlo just chuckled at his comment.
I got out my credit card and paid while he gift wrapped it in a small gold leaf box with a rainbow ribbon. I stuffed it in my pants pocket and we continued our trip down the sidewalk past all the small shops.
We ate filet mignon and lobster (and salad bar) for dinner but the portions were small, then we slowly walked back to the boat holding hands. I read that Key West was mostly gay friendly, that appeared to be true in the parts we saw but it was nothing like Boys Town or The Castro. Walking around holding hands was not something you did in Saint Pete except on the beach or hotel property. I gotta give Key West's Old Town credit for trying hard to be family friendly during the day and accommodating to everyone at night.
On the long walk back to Susan some guy walked into Carlo, I immediately suspected he was a pickpocket trying to lift his cell sticking out of his back pocket. I reflexively grabbed the guy's arm and held on tight, Carlo spun around and grabbed his other arm and we bulldozed him backwards into the front wall of a store and pressed him hard against the wall, Carlo held his throat with one hand and the other pulled back ready to punch his face.
The guy looked homeless and immediately held his hands up, in one was the lifted cell, he never had a chance to pocket it. I grabbed it from his hand and looked around to see if a cop was nearby.
Other people walking by saw and stopped too, one of them said the cops wouldn't arrest him, we should let him go.
But Carlo was red faced angry. We looked around and started walking with him in front of us, his arm pressed high to the center of his back. Any time he tried to struggle Carlo raised it until he yelled in pain, so he shoved him forward again and told him to shut up and walk. I had no idea where we were going.
We marched him to the end of Duval Street by the Glass Bottom Boat Tours place and Carlo shoved him into the water. There was no beach there just commercial piers so he'd have to swim around to find a place to climb out, but we didn't stick around, we turned and headed for Susan. It was a six foot drop from the walkway to the water, which looked like it was at least eight feet deep because of the tour boats tied up there.
On the walk back Carlo said he needed to wash his hands. We stopped in at Wahlburgers to visit the men's room.
After peeing and scrubbing our hands we bought one large lemonade drink and walked back to Susan sipping on the one straw. I reminded him I had a tiny pepper spray thing in my pocket, if something like that happened again maybe we could spray him in the face instead of keeping him with us that long.
Carlo commented that back in Saint Pete he often carried a knife and wouldn't hesitate to chase him down, recover his cell, then stab him in the leg or somewhere that wouldn't kill him but give him something permanent to remember the moment. He said he did it once in the Navy at a bar in North Chicago when someone tried to rob him.
Back on Susan after dark the harbor sounded like a giant floating keg party. We walked to the marina bar and ordered a large nachos platter then carried it back to Susan and sat on the back deck and drank beers and munched on our huge cardboard tray of spicy cheese, salsa, and jalapeno covered tortilla chips.
Before we left Saint Pete I put three ten pound blocks of dry ice (two were left), two cases of bottled water and one case of beer in cans. Yes, the ice chest was that big. Carlo said the door on the ice chest reminded him of the ones on Good Humor Ice Cream trucks back when he was a little boy in Laredo, Texas.
We heard music and drunken laughter in almost every direction. The winds were only two miles an hour so the boat rocked slightly and the harbor was full of mast rope clanking sounds. It was a very romantic evening. We sat on the back deck in shorts only with the nacho platter between us and cold beers in hand just talking and telling stories. We laughed and shared stories of things we survived.
Carlo told me about some of his antics in the Navy and said he sort of missed those days because living with his parents ruined any chance he had of ever bringing a hot date home for a night of sloppy sex. When I asked him if his parents suddenly disappeared tomorrow would he keep the tire shop going, in an instant he loudly said, "Fuck no!" Then he explained how in so many ways it was like being in prison. With a drunken slur he blurted out his parents made all the money and only paid him twenty bucks an hour.
I got a pillow off the sofa and dropped it on the deck by Carlo's feet and sat on the floor and continued eating chips and sipping beers. That put me at the right height so I could put one arm over his thighs and rub him while I slowly got drunk. My chin was about even with his knee so if I wanted to I could reach up his pant leg too.
At one point Carlo sat up straight and looked all around us at the other boats and people wandering around and asked what it would be like to live like this all the time, and I came close to telling him I had enough money in the bank to start today, live on the boat and sail the world and have little moments like this every week. But I decided not to tell him because I haven't seen his full range of emotions yet. I wanted to see Carlo the Anger Monster before I let our relationship grow to include financial disclosures. I think I caught a glimpse of him very angry tonight and it was comforting to see he did not lose control. I also wanted to see him drunk and pissed off.
"Would you like to live like millionaires on a boat in different harbors around the world for the rest of your life?"
He looked around like he was thinking about it then smiled and nodded yes, and said he thought he could get used to not working and being a man of leisure at age 30.
I told him we could keep sailing if he wanted to start now, but he said he had to go back to work, after he said that his mood changed. He didn't know I was serious with my offer.
While we talked and finished more beers he said he wished we could fuck out on the back deck. When he got up to get us beers I told him to change into sleeping shorts which were very loose but too revealing to wear in public, they looked like long brief underwear.
When he came back I told him how the back deck canvas roof used to have zipper-on side panels. He stood up, stood on the cushions and reached up and felt there really was a zipper that ran all the way around, then asked what happened to them. I told him I had no idea, they probably got cracked and ripped and thrown away by the previous owner, Susan's father.
He said we should find someone that did marine canvas and see if they could make new side panels, then maybe we could fuck on the deck. I reminded him the bed was only thirty feet away but he said it got stuffy in there sometimes but out on deck it was very nice and airy so he could fuck and not get all sweaty. I told him we could probably fuck on the deck and not be seen except by someone standing on the roof of the boats next to us.
Carlo asked if I was finished eating Nachos, then he stood up and grabbed the empty cardboard tray. He folded it in half and stuffed it inside the large plastic bag and looked all around and saw something out on the pier. Then (wearing half-knee length striped underwear) he quickly jumped off the back onto the pier and ran about fifteen feet and stuffed it into their trash can and ran back to the boat and jumped back on board.
I laughed as he panted and smiled, then belched loudly and shook his arms in victory above his head.
"Thanks for cleaning up!" I said and he strutted around the deck like he just won a race at the Olympics! I watched his body with what little light we had on the back deck. I patted the cushion beside me hoping he'd mellow out, which he did. Carlo was clearly buzzed on alcohol, I was too but I only get sleepy when drunk.
He sat on the bench in his old spot, I rested my arms on his legs and set my hand on his underwear and gently touched his balls, he stared at me and enjoyed the intimacy of the moment, then wiggled his legs a little further apart.
All around us was the sound of mast ropes in the gentle breeze. He put his hands behind his head and slid down a little and closed his eyes, and sighed while I sat between his feet and gently touched his balls. His body position sort of said: life is great.' He looked drunk, tired, and very happy.
I thought he might fall asleep, I think we both had nearly nine beers each. I sat there with my finger tip drawing circles around his belly button listening to the ropes, the crickets and the frogs croaking. Slowly the noise level died down in the harbor and eventually I was yawning and seeing doubles so it was time to go to bed.
We sat there very close like that, him reclined on the cushions, me seated on the deck between his feet with one arm on his lap gently fingering his balls. We didn't talk for a while. I leaned my head over and kissed his legs several times, it was a very romantic time. We were both low enough that nobody on the piers or on the boats beside us could see us. For a time I lowered my head to his thigh and closed my eyes, my head pressed against his nuts.
Contact the author: borischenaz gmail