Caribbean's Keeper by Brian; Boland Read Free Book Online

catamaran that had just come back in from one of her daily trips. The passengers now gone, some of the crew walked about cleaning up from the day. Cole walked out onto the pier and caught some movement in the cabin. He called out a loud, “Hello.” A tanned stranger of Cole’s age stepped out onto the aft deck and said hello back.
    Cole cleared his throat and asked matter-of-factly, “Don’t suppose you’re hiring any deckhands?”
    The figure smiled, laughing almost at Cole’s direct line of questioning and asked back, “Do you know your way around a boat?”
    Cole’s turn to smile, he replied with a chuckle, “More than I care to admit. My name is Cole and I’m just looking for some work around here. I just got out of the Coast Guard, so yeah, I’m pretty good on a boat.”
    His counterpart replied, “I’m Kevin and I run the deckhands. If you’re serious, we can talk over a beer.”
    Kevin looked the part. He was about Cole’s height, of similar build, and wore a faded pair of cotton shorts low on his waist with a white t-shirt stained as one would imagine from a day’s work in the sun and salt. He had short dark hair and a distinct laugh that revealed a laissez-faire approach to all things in life.
    Cole offered to buy the first round.
    Needing to clean a few things up, Kevin invited Cole up before ducking back inside the cabin. Cole, now alone on the aft deck, instinctively went about tightening the lines over to the dock and cleaned up the bitter ends, coiling them neatly beside their cleats. The cat bobbed gently and the fiberglass deck felt good under Cole’s feet. He kicked off his flip flops and reflected on the significance of the moment. He was on a boat again, but this time on his own terms. Suddenly the ocean wasn’t so far away and by simply standing on a deck devoid of military protocol and nonsensical tension, Cole felt a renewed appreciation for the calming force of the sea. It was a feeling he’d cherished as a cadet at the Coast Guard Academy each time he set sail down the Thames River, pointed towards Long Island Sound and the cold Atlantic Ocean beyond. The sea always meant freedom, and here Cole felt it once again. On the deck of this catamaran, a boat he’d known for only a few minutes, he recognized in himself that his love for adventure and open water had never left him. Two years on Delaney had only buried that feeling, and it had remained hidden and dormant until this moment.
    Kevin emerged from the enclosed cabin and looked down momentarily at the lines Cole had tightened and seemed somewhat impressed. It was almost a look of disbelief. It took Kevin a minute to piece together in his mind the fact that Cole had enough good sense to do something without being asked. Cole watched Kevin’s facial expression change and sensed immediately that the two would be friends. Kevin shook his head and let out another one of his hearty laughs.
    They chatted about nothing on the walk up the dock and agreed to beers at Turtle Kraals. Over the course of an hour and several rounds of Corona, Cole agreed to start the next day as a deckhand. It paid just over minimum wage, but would be plenty for Cole to sort things out over the remaining summer until something more steady opened up with law enforcement. On top of that, the job offered hours each day on the open water between Key West and Fort Jefferson. It was easy work: show up at six in the morning, set up the fruit and bagels for breakfast, clean the main cabin, and wait for the tourists to board a little after seven. The trip took a bit over two hours each way, and Kevin pointed out the downsides of dealing with seasick passengers, all things Cole was familiar with from his time in the Coast Guard.
    They chatted idly about girls, places they’d lived, things they’d seen, and the addictive nature of warm tropical water. Kevin had moved down from central Florida and said he couldn’t stand to leave the fishing. The catamaran job paid the