Meeting Max

by Richard Brumer

  When they arrived at Anegada, they set the anchor, dinghied ashore, then walked to Loblolly Bay and swam, snorkeled, and enjoyed the day. They dinghied back to Gone With The Wind, re-furled the main neatly on the boom, and watched the sun sink slowly into the sea.

  Blazing strips of blue, red, and yellow streamed across the sky as twilight fell. They feasted on pasta primavera, precooked by Daniela, then sat back and talked under a sky of stars that reminded Rick of the Thar Desert. Max couldn’t take his eyes off the stars. They filled the sky like a blanket of flashing diamonds.

  “Grandpa, I really have to learn how to sail. I want to know all the things you know, everything.”

  “Max, by the end of this trip, you’ll be a sailor.”

  “You think?”

  “I know.”

  “When I was below, I started writing down everything we did today. I think I’d like to do it every day.”

  “Good for you. I always keep a log. Do you like to write stories?”

  “I told Mom I’d like to be a writer, and she said I could do that anytime no matter what my career was. She told me to find a career that I loved so I could be independent. She said then I could write whenever I wanted to. I told her I wanted writing to be my career.”

  “Would you write fiction?”

  “Yes, absolutely, only fiction novels.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Because I can make things up.”

  “That’s true, but the one thing that’s helpful about writing fiction is to know how your book is going to end.”

  “Yeah, I guess it’s good to know where you’re going. There are some creative writing electives offered in school. Maybe I’ll take one of them.”

  “That’s a good idea. I think you can get a lot out of it, but try not to lose your own voice.”

  “I think I know what you mean. I won’t.”

  ***

  They were up at first light and had an early breakfast. Afterward, Rick motored Gone with the Wind out of the harbor. When they reached open water, Rick pointed the boat into the wind and taught Max how to raise the mainsail.

  Max pulled it up as best he could and then wrapped the mainsheet around a winch to raise it to the top of the mast. They eased the mainsail until it was filled with wind, then unfurled the jib and set out on a comfortable sail to The Baths on the southwestern tip of Virgin Gorda.

  The Baths were composed of giant granite boulders and rock formations probably of volcanic origin at the edge of the beach. They carefully walked along the slippery rocks into a huge cave more than a hundred feet high, where water streamed along its slippery rocky floor.

  Sunlight beamed in from an opening on the top of the cave to allow beams of light to crisscross throughout the darkened cave. They continued to walk along the wet bottom of the cave until they came to an entrance to the beach, where they snorkeled over the magnificent sea life.

  A short sail brought them to Cooper Island. They had lunch at a restaurant on a sandy beach lined with palm trees. They looked out at Gone With The Wind. She had two anchors off her bow and was waiting for their return.

  Before they sailed off, Rick radioed ahead to the Peter Island Yacht Club on Peter Island to reserve a space at their dock and make a reservation for dinner. The plan was to overnight there, sleep onboard, and use the restaurants and facilities of the plush hotel.

  The sun gleamed on Gone With the Wind as they made their way under full sail to Peter Island. They arrived in late afternoon and docked. Rick furled the mainsail on the boom and tidied up the boat as Max went into the hotel to check it out.

  As Rick was about to step onto the dock, he saw Max walking toward him with a young lady who he guessed must have been about fourteen or fifteen.

  “Hi, Grandpa, this is Jena. We met in the lobby. She knows a lot about sailing.”

  “Hi, Jena, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Where are you from?”

  “I’m from San Diego. My younger brother, Christopher, and I grew up in Riverton, that’s in Utah, but moved to California to be close to the ocean. I’m here with my mom and dad and my brother.”

  Jena was a pretty girl. She was slim, with suntanned skin, large, cornflower blue eyes, and a beautiful smile. She wore dark shorts and a white t-shirt that said If I’m lost, send me back to Virgin Gorda. Her face was protected from the sun by a dark SF Giants baseball cap and her golden blonde hair hung down the back of her neck in a single braid. This was the first time Rick had ever seen Max with a girl.

  “Jena is from California, but she told me her family had an apartment in New York,” Max explained.

  “That’s nice. So, Jena, where is your boat and where did you charter it from?”

  “We got it from The Moorings. It’s a fifty-one foot Beneteau. It’s that one there,” she said as she pointed to a sleek monohull with the name After Dawn emblazoned on her stern, not far from Gone with the Wind.

  “We plan to head out tomorrow and snorkel at Norman Island. We were at Cane Garden Bay yesterday. If you go there, get the conch fritters at Rhymers. They’re so delicious,” Jena said, licking her lips. “Then we’ll probably sail to the American Virgins and anchor at Caneel Bay. It’s up to my mom. She’s skippering the boat. She grew up in Newport and has been sailing all her life, but my dad is a pretty good sailor too.”

  Rick and Max wished her a good sailing day and went off to the dining room of the hotel. It was lobster night and they feasted on Caribbean lobsters.

  “No claws, Grandpa?”

  “Nope. These Caribbean spiny lobsters don’t have them.”

  “I love learning about sailboats. I want to know everything.”

  “Good for you. Stay curious. Learning is a great experience.”

  Rick smiled to himself, wondering how much of Max’s enthusiasm had been influenced by his encounter with Jena.

  “Yeah, but this is different. It’s not algebra. I never thought I’d want to know everything about something.”

  Rick smiled to himself.

  No, it’s not algebra. It’s much better. Sailing our boat to the different islands will be a learning experience Max will never forget.

  Max agreed to spend at least two hours each day learning and practicing sailing lessons with Captain Grandpa Rick, his teacher. Instruction began after dinner, starting with plotting compass courses using a pair of dividers. Max’s first assignment was to plot a course from Peter Island to Norman Island.

  Max asked for a pencil with an eraser and kept his cabin light burning late into the night as he diligently plotted a course from Peter Island to Treasure Point Caves on Norman Island.

  In the morning, he eagerly showed his grandfather his work, all neatly penciled on the nautical chart, along with other courses he plotted to other islands just for practice.

  Rick let Max take the wheel as they sailed out of the harbor. He explained how to read the compass and keep the wind in the sails as they went along. Max was bursting at the seams when they reached Norman Island by following a course that he had plotted.

  “Grandpa, I did it!

  When they got to the caves at Treasure Point, they snorkeled into the caves, where the water was colder, and listened to the echo of their voices. Max told Grandpa Rick that he hoped they would meet up with Jena here, but that did not happen and he was glad they had exchanged e-mail addresses.

  After snorkeling, they had lunch onboard. It consisted of local fruits and tuna fish sandwiches. Max helped Rick crack open a couple of coconuts for cool drinks. They ate and talked about the beauty that surrounded them.

  Rick raised the main, sailed off their anchor without using the engine, and took a short sail to Jost Van Dyke, anchoring in Great Harbour.

  Later that night, they dinghied into shore and went to Foxy’s Tamarind Beach Bar and Restaurant. They could hear the tropical music and live steel drums from a distance as they walked in the cool sand to Foxy’s, a place with character...and the character was Foxy himself.

  When they got i
nside the shanty restaurant, they saw Foxy Callwood, the owner and most famous man on the island, walking around on his bare feet, his body filled with energy as he played upbeat calypso songs on his guitar and talked to the guests.

  Foxy was a flamboyant man. He had dark brown skin, a black mustache, and straggly black hair coming over his ears. His gray beard only covered his chin, and his big, round, brown eyes gave him a constantly surprised look. He was dressed in a spectacular multicolored shirt and wore a well-worn red cap.

  Foxy himself greeted them. He showed them to a table as he strummed his guitar and sang without missing a beat.

  Rick felt that the excitement in the room ignited Max’s imagination. His face was lit up and he appeared to be immersed in the dancing and singing that surrounded him. He had never been to a place like this before.

  They feasted on a seafood dinner, enjoyed the festivities, and then walked along the beach until they came to the Soggy Dollar Café, which had a large hammock out front, attached between two trees. They sat in the hammock and looked out at Great Harbour with its dinghy dock full. Sailboats were lying peacefully at anchor as the white anchor lights atop their masts blended with the stars.

  Rick closed his eyes, laid back in the hammock, and dozed off to the soft sound of the small waves that gently touched the beach. Max shook him and said, “Grandpa, let’s play charades.”

  Rick sprang to life and wiped his eyes. “Sure, Max. Okay, you go first.”

  Max indicated it was a movie.

  “Okay, how many words?” Rick asked.

  Max held up three fingers and went through descriptive motions. The first word was difficult. When Max gestured that he was riding an animal, Rick thought it was a horse, but then, after some more of his gyrations, he realized it was a camel and guessed at Lawrence of Arabia.

  “Hey, you’re pretty good at this. How did you get it?”

  “The way you were riding made me think you were in the desert,” Rick said as his desert remembrances flashed by. “Why did you pick that movie?”

  “I knew it was your favorite.”

  Rick did a movie too. It was a film he’d never watched, but he’d seen the trailers on TV. It was a vampire movie and Max got it in about thirty seconds, which was okay with Rick because he was really tired.

  Max practiced motoring the dinghy back to the boat. Once onboard, they were quickly lulled into a deep sleep by the gentle rocking of their home on water.

  The next morning, they went ashore to visit Christine’s Bakery and bought freshly baked coconut bread to take back to the boat to have it with eggs and coffee.

  What followed was a week of peaceful sailing, dreamy days, and starlit nights. They were blessed with good weather and favorable winds. Max absorbed his sailing lessons like a sponge and continued to amaze Rick with the intelligent, thoughtful questions he asked.

  On their last day, they took a long sail upwind along the north coast of Tortola. They passed Cane Garden Bay, and then cut through the narrow Great Camanoe Passage to Marina Cay, where they anchored for lunch and talked.

  “Grandpa, this is a paradise. How did I do steering the boat upwind with our rail almost in the water?”

  “You did great. You’re a natural sailor. It was good to sail completely around Tortola so you could have an idea of how to handle a sailboat when it’s at different angles to the wind.”

  They shared a papaya, made tuna fish sandwiches on coconut bread, and sat in the cockpit.

  “You’re Jewish, right?

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Does that make me part Jewish too?”

  “Well, we are what we want to be. You know, when you’re young, you take on some of the things your parents believe. But when you get older, you can make up your own mind about those things.”

  “What do you believe?”

  “You mean about religion?”

  “Yes.”

  “Each religion believes it is the right one. I thought they were all wrong.”

  “You don’t practice your religion?”

  “Well, it’s a funny thing, Max. I enjoyed the traditions of my religion when I was young: the holidays, Passover, Chanukah. I was religious and thought I believed in God, but I was never sure. Those were warm feelings, and I still cherish them. I had to use my brain to examine my beliefs and see if they passed the test of reason. They didn’t, so I decided not to believe in God.”

  “Do you believe in God now, Grandpa?”

  “Now, I’m not sure. When I was in India, I walked with a man on a beach. It was a dark, starry evening, and we talked all night about these things. He was a spiritual man, and when we parted, I was left with a space in my thinking that I still don’t understand, but I know it’s there. I have a feeling that space is spirituality and I may have to explore it again.

  “You have to make up your own mind about these things, Max. And remember, you’re unique. You don’t have to believe what everyone else does. Just because billions of people believe something, doesn’t make it right. You must find your own truth.”

  “I’m not sure about God, but I don’t say anything to my mom. I know she believes, and we go to church at least on the holidays.”

  “I think it’s good not to say anything about certain doubts to your mom. I’m sure she has tender feelings on the subject.”

  “Okay, so we’re talking about two things,” Max said, “one is God and the other is religion. Is it like emotions versus reason?”

  Rick couldn’t believe Max said that. He nailed it.

  “Yeah, Max, it does narrow down to those two things. God and religion and how we think and feel about each.”

  “I learned about evolution in biology.”

  “So, what do you think?”

  “It’s interesting. My teacher has a big poster in the room. It shows how we evolved. You probably believe in evolution. You’re a professor.”

  “I believe it.”

  Rick showed Max how to weigh anchor without using the engine while hoisting the main at the same time. He explained to Max that since a boat at anchor was already facing the wind, releasing the mainsheet and hoisting the anchor would let you tack across the anchor line, pull it up, and sail off. Max was a fast learner.

  Under Captain Grandpa’s direction and guidance, Max sailed Gone With the Wind to Cane Garden Bay. When they arrived, Max set the anchor.

  Within minutes, they got a call on their VHF from David complimenting them on a good anchoring job. He and Daniela had watched them from their deck.

  Daniela brought pasta, bread, and wine down to the boat so they could all have dinner in the cockpit and enjoy the sunset.

  Max heard the message on the VHF radio and said, “Can we get some Conch fritters? I heard they were good.”

  “Really? From who? I like conch fritters.”

  “Remember? Jena said they were delicious, that Rhymers has the best.”

  “Okay. Why don’t you dinghy in and get enough for the four of us. It would make a great appetizer.”

  Rick watched Max motor the dinghy toward the beautiful half moon beach, and it wasn’t long before he returned with a grease-stained brown bag that contained a white box full of hot conch fritters.

  The sun was getting ready to perform its evening ritual and provide them with new, colorful artwork. The cockpit table held a large dish of Rasta Pasta, a BVI specialty, coconut bread from Christine’s, bottles of Perrier, red and white wines, and a plate piled high with Rhymers spicy conch fritters.

  David and Daniela told them about their plan to sail to St. Croix for a few days. It was their turn to be “gone with the wind.”

  It was a beautiful evening. They watched the sun inch its way into the sea, leaving a sky full of fiery orange and yellow streaks that reflected on the water. Max spoke with confidence and enthusiasm about their sailing adventures and how Foxy had showed them to their table while he sang and strummed on Jost Van Dyke.

  “You’ve learned a lot,” David said. “Did Grandpa
teach you how to make knots?”

  “Well, that’s the one thing Grandpa didn’t teach me too much about, except how to tie up a dinghy with a round turn and two half hitches.”

  “That’s a start,” Daniela said. “David and I could teach you a few more tonight, or you can look up the important knots on the internet, get a piece of rope, and practice. A few of the good ones are the bo’lin knot, reef knot, clove hitch, stopper knot, and the half hitch. That should keep you busy at home. Learn them and practice them.”

  Max wrote the names down in his logbook.

  Daniela and Max stayed in the cockpit and talked while David and Rick sat up on the bow.

  “I know you still think about Eric. You’ve carried this weight all these years,” David said. “I still think about what you’ve gone through. My heart goes out to you.”

  “Yeah, we lost an important person in Max’s life and in our lives,” he whispered. “It wasn’t easy for me. You remember how it was with Julie and me.”

  “Yeah, it was beautiful. I always felt I had the same closeness with Daniela as you guys did.”

  “You do, I can feel it.”

  “I’m sad about Elena too. Dying under such a horrific circumstance.”

  “Thank you. Losing her overwhelmed me, and I still think of her. I imagined myself sailing with Eric, Elena, and even Julie on this trip while I was with Max. I live in my dreams too much.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, Rick. Maybe another woman will be in your life.”

  “I don’t think so, but you’re right, it all depends on who crosses my path. You never know when it will happen. With me, it was in a library and again on a plane. Yeah, you never know where. Luck still plays a big part.”

  “I want you to come to the islands more often and bring Max and another friend, if you wish.”

  “Max is moving to California with his mom and her husband. I’ll miss him, but we’ll see each other.”

  “When is he leaving?”

  “In the fall.”

  “And what are your plans after that?”

  “Not much. I don’t have anything scheduled over the summer until the new term begins. Now I will really have no one in my life in New York, so it will be kind of lonely.”