Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“Ah, yes, I think so, John; you want us to remove everything except the hull, right?”
“Correct so far, I'll check up on you after morning coffee break, make a pile of trash over
there; oh, and leave the engine in too,” he said, pointing to a spot on the shore. “Make sure
you pick up all the screws and nails.”
He and the crew took off leaving Gavin and I staring at the old Taiwanese sampan. It cer-
tainly was on its last legs, and there wouldn't be an awful lot of effort in demolishing this
pile of junk, we thought.
Soon, we were hammering and battering and unscrewing the top off the derelict, old tramp.
She squealed in outrage as we levered off her superstructure framework with two huge
no-nonsense crowbars, throwing the rotting, brown wood noisily over the side. We were
sweating from the heat and certainly enjoying the attention from passersby. Slim, from the
fuel dock, waved a lazy arm at us, his perpetual cigarette dangling from his lower lip.
“'Bout time somebody broke up that old cow,” he said with a slow smile.
I was just going below to start on the interior when I stopped dead in my tracks. Sauntering
along the dock was an apparition with long, fluffy, blonde hair, large, clear, blue eyes and
the longest, sexiest legs I had seen in my life. She had on a grin and a little, black backpack;
she had in tow a little, black dog. I fell in love right there and then.
“Jesus H. Christ, just look at this,” I hissed to Gavin down below.
She came sauntering up and stood looking at the sampan, the pile of scrap wood, and us.
She grinned up and said in a Canadian accent, “Hey you guys, I see why they are calling
you “boat busters” around the yard; didn't take you long! Say, I might be able to use some
of this wood.”
Her little, black dog was already sniffing at it inquisitively. “What you got there, Zephyr?
Can we use anything there, boy? Oh, I'm Liz by the way; I live on a boat out in the lagoon.”
“Hi, I'm Jonathan, and this is my twin, Gavin.”
“Yes, I can see you are twins.” She grinned back at us. She had a merry twinkle in her flaw-
less, blue eyes, and as I gazed upon her, my heart skipped a beat. I was sure she could see
me blushing all over. Damn! She was a fine looking, little lady. I bet she's got a big, jealous
boyfriend hovering about somewhere, I thought enviously.
“You're from Africa, I hear?” she asked, her beautiful, shapely fingers curled seductively
around her backpack straps.
