New Homeport Island (39 page)

secrets of two famous ship sinking’s to start a debate about the
 loss of their destroyer, the Paul F Foster. Mike said, “…well, the
 freeboard requirement had changed, the ship was overloaded
 with taconite. The crew had seen water that high in the bilges
 before but it was now enough to overload the ship, exceeding
 their displacement buoyancy and they sunk. Which reminds me
 of the other big one…their rudder was smaller than other ships
 of the age. They saw the ice burg; they sped up, and turned hard
 to port. But, with that rudder speeding up prevented the ship
 from turning. It was like putting an oar behind the Queen Mary
 and expecting it to turn the ship. All I am saying is don’t let
 experience work against you. Think…every time.”  And with
 that Mike shrugged his shoulders and threw up his hands before
 he walked away as an accomplished sailor.  
The ship lay at the bottom of the ocean, the cold dark
 rolling through her hull and dusting her decks with sea slim
 mud. Fish swam through her as her new crew, and her mission
 parameters had changed to artificial coral reef. Not one sailor
 laid with her, all had manage their escape though many died of
 salt water poisoning days after reaching dry land. Her bell on the
 bridge yearned to be rung again even if just for a general
 quarters drill. The wheel waited tarnishing and the hull awaited
 rust. The crew that had sailed her lost her to the depths and now
Neptune had claimed his prize.
The Woodenpeg’s  construction would be successful even
 if every sailor died in the attempt, it was just the way of a sailor
 to refuse to surrender wanderlust to being trapped.
I was drained and didn’t awaken until the next morning.
Michael had the rope loom working and the mounts held and
 functioned. With that triumph the rope for the crane was being

produced and the ships construction would resume once the
 wooden ‘X’s were in place to support the ship.  
Mitch was running the boilers and Tommi was ready to
 fish, so I joined her. The whistling of the flying fish still had not
 stopped, the seas were fertile and our sundial’s almanac ring  
 would reflect that.
Mike stood at the judges table flipping over Dominos
 confident with himself giving a smile like a used car salesman to
 the group he had been talking to. The militants sat in awe of
Mikes ludicrous sense of importance and rather than quell the
 geekdom Branson called the idle hands to task. He had them
 repairing the boiler, using clay from the tree line, and their
 fishing crew stayed out most of the day. That left Hudlow’s
 delirious followers and a lot of people making sand castles to
 mark where they had defecated.  
When I stood up I noticed the rigorous public sex I just had
 had further damaged my clothing. I considered it a very good
 thing that the work of running the rope loom had been passed
 over to more task oriented individuals. I needed to be free to
 start making some clothing. The sheets for the cabanas were as
 sheer as we could intentionally make them and yet were still
 fairly heavy simple pants or a sarong shouldn’t be that hard.
That turned out to be the focus of my day, a vest, a sarong,
 and Capri pants. It was basically a burlap material I was using
 but deriving dyes from plants was something I had to do. Just a
 little stain so I didn’t look like I was wearing a brown paper bag.
The wood workers were focused on having the parts ready
 for the ship and they had refined their work to being nearly
 thought free, they just droned away at their tasks.
As the day closed I had made a sarong, kilt, or skirt, with
 tie straps inside to tie around the knee. I stained it with the

leeches red and the grass and leaves green. The upper trim I
 used some yellow flowers on but it didn’t hold in the fibers well
 and I would have to refine a dying process to maintain it. I
 couldn’t help but to feel like I had made a school girls dress
Megan strolled by playing one of Athena’s ocarina, she had
 a good melody going. She stopped and said, “Rob, you really
 should just start wearing that now, your coverall are pretty much
 dead.” So, I striped of what was left of the clothing I had and put
 on the kilt. The band across the top was long enough to tie the
 ends together like a built in belt. The strips of cloth with in the
 kilt were like streamers on the sails and I tied them around my
 thighs. I had been wearing pajama bottoms as underwear in my
 coverall for over a year and they had sustained more wear than
 the outer garment. I stood there in my kilt, only woven as tight
 as the burlap bags our rags used to come in, cinched at the top
 but hanging loosely and the streamers inside tight on my thigh.
The vest hadn’t even been started yet, so I had a unique
 look about me. Dave Miles walked up and paced around me then
 stood in front of me and asked, “Seriously?” then brushed at my
 chest as if to brush away sand, but actually trying to get my
 nipples hard and said, “I’m going to need those too.” and he
 walked out to gather more plant fibers. Tammy glanced over and
 said, “If you need your toe nails painted let me know.” I replied,
“Ha..ha… I needed something quick that didn’t take too much
 materials.”  Athena rushed up and said, “Here…here’s
 something you can wear.” and she tossed her panties at me. I
 took a sniff and watched her turn red, she reached out for them
 and I said, “Tastes good.” She withdrew her hand and glanced
 back as she quickly walked away she giggled with a smile and
 noticed I had that fevered look so she broke into a run and hid
 for a while.  

Michael was nearby and he commented, “Whatever works,
 but I’m gonna’ need some shoes.” We both glanced at Tim and
Tim had already started making himself one. He looked back out
 us sheepishly and asked, “What?” I replied, “Leather dude, how
 are we doing on that?” Tim replied as he worked, “Still trying to
 herd them, but I’ll make sure we save the hide for leather.”
Michelle was in the cabana and strolled out in a sultry
 manner, she interjected, “I’m wood working now not hunter but
 we found their burrow…” Tim replied, “I’m a hunter but also a
 ship builder.” Megan blurted out, “Damn carpet baggers!” and
 laughed.
Michelle added, “They have several burrows right up
 against a rock face cliff wall. Looks like our pen idea got a lot
 simpler.” We all headed over there with everything we thought
 we’d need including our drums. We positioned ourselves and
 started digging in, at the first sight of a snout we started the
 drumbeat and yipped like American Indians. We figured all we
 need to do was to keep throwing food near the burrow entrance
 and pin them in. They would likely feed only at night, but we
 needed to take one soon and it shouldn’t be an alpha or
 mAtrisiarch. We used some of the line from the first pass
 through the rope loom for snares. And avoided the first one we
 snared after boxing them in, which would likely be an alpha or
 mAtrisiarch and we didn’t know which would be vital, but the
 third one out we snared and figured it looked like a fair kill. The
 mountain watch would have to become a pen watch and the boar
 could not be driven from their nests of burrows without us
 struggling to find them again.
We knew the fresh meat and the recent advent of the rope
 loom would drive the productivity on ship construction through

the roof and we were preparing our materials to support a dead
 run of labor.
Once that boar had been smoked and roasted, the crane was
 complete and moving the ship was our focus and cause for
 celebration.
Tammy danced the Macarena for everyone’s amusement
 and laughed and giggled. She enjoyed her new more flirtatious
 persona as did we all. Athena tweeted out melodies on her
 ocarina. And the men and I modeled our new island made
 clothing in a run way fashion show with Michelle and Tommi as
 the announcers.
Then the feast was served. Triple rations of bread, full fish
 meal and even a hand full of leeches. Tammy gave a benediction
 to the meal, “Oh he who hath landed us here, in your wisdom,
 and hath brought forth a feast. Please grant us one day of peace.
Give us this day a ration of bread that we may sleep without
 food in our heads. gracias amen.”  
We sung a cadence as our heaviest gauge ropes pulled tight
 all along and a crossed  our Egyptian style crane and our ties on
 the ship. Michael called out, “Heave ho, heave ho, as we lift the
 ship. Yoh ho, yoh ho, as we slack our line to lower.”  and all line
 tenders called the appropriate response, “Heave, heave, ho” As
Gabriel pulled away he cried out, “Is that really the best you can
 do?” and he changed our cadence to, “One two lift! One two
 lift!” a more professional call made us feel as though we’d been
 a little silly but we had learned ‘fun’ preserves sanity.
The drilling of holes for the pegs that would fasten the ribs
 to the keel was now a matter of an awkward contortion. Tim and
Gabriel looked like circus clowns trying to position themselves
 under the ship to drill the holes with gnarled up locker and car
 keys. Just seeing them under there we made sure the crane

maintained a significant load. We would alternate the load to
 swing the ship closer to the water after we had smoked the hull
 from the outside if not also the inside.
After the first few days the use of tree sap as glue made it
 not unusual to see sea shells stuck to foreheads. Michelle
 decided the sock hats she’d decided we would need were needed
 now and finished that project quickly. So there I stood with a
 stocking cap, a vest, and a kilt all of stained burlap, I felt like a
 gnome in a dress with a glandular problem. But the fashion
 show helped the women smiled and teased, then reassured us
 whatever kind of men we were, we were their men.
Athena helped me bend over under the keel to show me
 where to apply the tree sap. She nuzzled in close and with a
 grasp on one of my ankles she grasped my wrist and guided me
 as though I were blind. I would have felt that odd, but she
 whispered instructions in my ear and was breathing heavily
 which made me tingle all over. She whispered on the back of my
 neck, “You’re doing good and no one will look up your skirt so
 long as I am here.” I didn’t react as I would have expected, her
 whispers were comforting and her breath made me feel
 pleasantly numb and the back of my neck tingled. Athena
 repositioned me then passed me some warmed tree sap on a
 ceramic shard and again instructed me with a whisper, “A little
 over here… I need to reposition you so I can pull you out if it
 falls. But you need to spread your legs widely honey, don’t
 worry it’s me behind you.” Then she moved her hand from my
 ankle to my ass and slid her hand down to the edge of my kilt
 and reached up along my thigh and pulled that leg toward her.
The softness of her touch aroused me and that was her goal, a
 little private mockery and teasing, because now I was in a skirt.

She kissed the back of my ear softly with a hush and slid her
 hand further up my kilt. She whispered, “Turnabout is fair play,
 you’re hard and now you’re going to understand.” The she
 penetrated my anus with her finger and giggled. I was frozen in
 shock my body all a shudder, I couldn’t speak or even think.
Random utterances hushed from my mouth. She noticed my
 condition and whisper, “I won’t tell, but you’re going to let me
 do this.” She slide around behind me and with her finger still
 inserted she used her other hand to stroke me. We didn’t have
 any privacy; she was pulling a female power play. With a facial
 gesture to the other women she signaled for them to keep the
 men occupied and distracted from us. To push them into
 accepting we needed privacy while simultaneously inviting them
 to attend to any need I might have for attention. Michelle came
 over and lifted at my neck with her knee by kneeling in front of
 me and to my right. She pulled back my hair and held me firmly
 in place. Michelle angled herself so that her elbow was pressing
 in the center of my back causing my back to arch, then put a
 couple of her fingers in my mouth and said, “Were going to put
 something else in your mouth soon.
With that the overwhelming sexual tension broke and I got
 angry, I tried to pull away but Michelle pulled my hair yanking
 me back into place. Then said clearly to Athena, “He’s close.”
Athena quickened her stroking motions and again I was over
 whelmed. They both kept ordering me, “Now…now, or
 everyone sees.” The tension was back and near its peak, then
Michelle pushed deep into my mouth gaging me briefly and I
 released. Athena called out excitedly, “Robert came. Look
 everyone! Robert came” Tammy and Tommi stepped around to
 see me from behind. They inspected me as though it were a
 wound. The men stepped around the work of the ship to see

what they were joking about and once they saw my predicament
 they darted away.
Athena smacked my ass and said, “Hey, go be the
 governor.” So with trembling legs and a deep sense of shame
 and humility I walked back to the rocky area where I had built
 the rope loom and was still trying to derive better tools.  
The girls had observed how we were making the holes and
 made a drill bit from cement. It was my folly that I had only
 considered the keys, ceramic, and glass. As they took over the
 attachment of the ribs the progress increased drastically.
Once all the ribs were in place we planned the night’s
 party, I was planning to make some Capri pants to replace my
 kinky sex skirt. There would be dancing and singing, some more
 of the boar we had taken, and now that the girls considered me
 put in place and under their guidance it was time for a theatrical
 story telling theater.
I decided to stick with the form I had used on the ship and
 integrate training objectives.  My tale was to be of how the
Woodenpeg sailed back to California.
I said in a dramatic panamime like pose, “The ship had
 been set upon the water using our crane, without a soul aboard
 except that spirit of the ship, using our crane which we named
 goliath. It…she, sat there upon the sea awaiting her crew at
 anchor. They would walked down a pier made of logs lashed
 together, in a precession march, all ceremonious and dutiful. Her
 captain appointed by the senate and all trained for navigation in
 the most ancient of ways, tried and true.
Their maps derived from our navigational circle that had
 been used as a sundial and farmer’s almanac helped them
 determine the location of the island as a navigational zero. Like
 the earliest of sailors they struck out upon uncharted waters to