*****
In his dimly lit, yet elegantly presented wooden-paneled wheelhouse, Captain Samson stared out of his wide forward windows at the horizon. Alex and Sam were there, as was Mr. Harper, the first mate. I didn’t get into this room very often. Stewards and deckhands had no business up here unless we were invited. And we were only invited to be praised for an exceptional job, or fired for misconduct. The captain smiled a welcome to me and motioned for me to sit on the chair next to Alex. I felt nervous, a knot forming in my stomach.
Since I joined this crew, two months ago, abandoning my position as chief stew on a Mediterranean yacht and flying down here, lying about my years of experience so I wouldn’t be overqualified for the third steward position that was available on Venus, I’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Is the jig finally up? I wondered, have I been found out and am about to be fired? If I was, I was pretty sure Alex and especially Sam wouldn’t need to be in the room. I allowed myself to breathe a small sigh of relief at that thought.
I quickly decided I may have reacted too soon, because I then noticed a looming darkness in the distance, off the port bow. I could see that the normally clear blue skies of the Caribbean were being smothered by black, foreboding clouds that hadn’t been there at dawn.
“It’s bad news, I’m afraid,” frowned Samson, his English accent making every word seem slightly more ominous than it needed to be, “a storm, of which we had no idea was headed this way, switched its trajectory in from the Atlantic and is now aimed right at us. Whatever we decide to do, Tara, the guests are going to be having an indoor day today, and it might even be a rough ride. Can you brief the other stewards?”
I nodded to him.
“Aruba is sixty miles southeast of us, through the storm, Cap’n,” said Alex, looking at the satellite map on the monitor.
“He’s right,” agreed Harper. “We’ll never make it if we try to head home.”
“And even if we did make it to port and try to ride it out,” pointed out Sam, “that’s exactly where the weather will be at its worst.”
“So, we don’t head back to port,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. The assembled men turned toward me.
“Go on,” said Samson.
“There’s an atoll, five miles west, it has a bay facing away from the storm. It’ll give us some shelter,” I told him, pointing it out on the map.
“She’s right,” smiled Samson. “We might get some thunder, lightning, and rain, but we’ll be out of the worst of the wind and waves. Good thinking, Tara.”
“How did you know about the island?” asked Alex.
“We passed it two charters ago. I thought it was pretty.” I giggled. He didn’t need to know that you pick up certain things after seven years as cabin crew.
“Well, it falls to me to deliver the bad news to the primary charter. Let the rest of the crew know what to expect, will you,” instructed the captain. “Everyone else, to your stations. I think we have about two hours.”
I headed back below to give Michelle and Suzy our orders, and together we started trying to work out how we were going to keep nine wealthy clients, none of them used to being told they can’t do anything, entertained while we all waited out a hurricane.
“Toga party!” suggested Suzy. That was pretty much her go-to plan for any eventuality but, for once, Michelle and I thought it might not be the worst idea for this group. “Seriously?” Suzy looked stunned that we’d listened to her. “I was joking! You realize a toga party with this group is likely to turn into an orgy, based on yesterday’s sundeck action.”
“That’s their business,” said Michelle in her usual "seen-it-all-before" fashion. “The deckhands will be nearby in case things get out of hand. Together I’m sure they could even handle Jay Money if we needed them to.”
“I was more worried about Tara, TBH,” Suzy smirked. “How do we know she’s going to be able to control herself once her hero starts dancing around naked? Just remember, sexy, all it takes is one quick face-ride to earn you your ticket home!”
“Bitch!” I snapped, slapping her playfully on the arm. “Like you wouldn’t bend over for Jay Money if he handed you a diamond necklace!”
“Hey, I may be a slut but I do have standards,” cried Suzy, defensively, “I’d need matching earrings!”
“Okay,” appealed Michelle. “Can we focus, please?” Suzy and I tried to pull ourselves together. “However, Tara, you were wrong about the breakfasts.”
“No way!” I was shocked.
“Yes way,” Michelle continued. “Seth had bacon, not ham.”