— Ken and Vesta —
Wedding and Portrait Photography
541 773-3373
If you would like to download any of the photos below, just click on it and you’ll be taken to a gallery, where you can do that, because each photo will have a download button under it. Or you can just drag it off. But you’ll get a larger, better quality image if you go to the gallery and download it.
As for how they’re arranged, the first photo or photos of anyone or group of people would have been taken with an iPhone 14 and the the last photo or photos would have been taken with a Canon R6. For example, if we photographed a few photos of somebody, the 1st two or three would have been taken with the iPhone and the 2nd two or three, would’ve been taken with the Canon.
Oh yes, please click on the Instagram link in the menu bar above and follow us. We’ll love you forever if you do and we’ll follow you back.
__________
This is our fourteenth day of this project, January 24th, 2023 and yesterday we walked five miles to get the photos below. We walked the mile and a half to the Shore, then we came back on Broadway. We walked so much, because I’ve been eating too much and somebody made a little fun of my little belly. So I didn’t eat anything the day before yesterday and hardly anything yesterday and we walked a lot. The the scale said I lost two and a half pounds the first day and nothing the second day. I think it’s broken.
Best,
Ken and Vesta
__________
PS. Just incase you don’t know, and you probably don’t, I’m a writer and I finished my last book, a sort of thriller, when we were locked down in Reno. It’s about a hundred thousand words, which is way too long and I haven’t gone over it or proof read it. Actually, I just sort of forgot about it.
So, at the very end of these posts, I’m going to post around 1500 words of the story everyday. It’s called CLEAN SLATE. And today’s post is the 8th installment of that. If you wanna read it from the beginning, you can just go to www.kenandvesta.com/Photography/PROJECTiPHONE14 and click on the PROJECTiPHONE14-3 post below. It’s the one with the photo of the girl in the cowboy hat on the large thumb nail.
And if you do decide to read it and you think something sucks or I made a horrible grammatical mistake, please text me at 541 773-3373 and let me know. I'd be forever in your debt if you did that.
As for how they’re arranged, the first photo or photos of anyone or group of people would have been taken with an iPhone 14 and the the last photo or photos would have been taken with a Canon R6. For example, if we photographed a few photos of somebody, the 1st two or three would have been taken with the iPhone and the 2nd two or three, would’ve been taken with the Canon.
Oh yes, please click on the Instagram link in the menu bar above and follow us. We’ll love you forever if you do and we’ll follow you back.
__________
This is our fourteenth day of this project, January 24th, 2023 and yesterday we walked five miles to get the photos below. We walked the mile and a half to the Shore, then we came back on Broadway. We walked so much, because I’ve been eating too much and somebody made a little fun of my little belly. So I didn’t eat anything the day before yesterday and hardly anything yesterday and we walked a lot. The the scale said I lost two and a half pounds the first day and nothing the second day. I think it’s broken.
Best,
Ken and Vesta
__________
PS. Just incase you don’t know, and you probably don’t, I’m a writer and I finished my last book, a sort of thriller, when we were locked down in Reno. It’s about a hundred thousand words, which is way too long and I haven’t gone over it or proof read it. Actually, I just sort of forgot about it.
So, at the very end of these posts, I’m going to post around 1500 words of the story everyday. It’s called CLEAN SLATE. And today’s post is the 8th installment of that. If you wanna read it from the beginning, you can just go to www.kenandvesta.com/Photography/PROJECTiPHONE14 and click on the PROJECTiPHONE14-3 post below. It’s the one with the photo of the girl in the cowboy hat on the large thumb nail.
And if you do decide to read it and you think something sucks or I made a horrible grammatical mistake, please text me at 541 773-3373 and let me know. I'd be forever in your debt if you did that.
Vesta and I met these four after being on foot for a little over five miles and we were about two miles from home and I was seriously thinking we should just plop our bodies down at a bus stop and ride on home. So, I told Vesta that.
And she said, pointing at Trinidad, Sage, Finley and Lily, “You know how you like photographing young people.”
And though the bus was still up front in my mind, she was right. We’ve easily photograph over a hundred thousand people in our lifetimes, the youngest was about a second old, the oldest had just turned a hundred and four.
I like photographing children and I love photographing couples on their wedding day. I like birthdays, family reunions, people in bars, anytime people are happy. But far and away, I love photographing young people in high school the best.
First off, when Vesta and I walk up to them with our cameras, they never say no, but that’s not the main reason I love them so much. I think it’s not just because they’re our future, but because they see things differently than we do, look at life differently and mostly they’re unafraid of the future, even though it’s theirs to shape.
And a lot of people in America, some not even that far out of high school, are afraid of them. Because if we don’t kill ourselves off, they’re going to bring about great change. Because for the most part, without even knowing it, they’ve taken the message of Dr. King to heart. They don’t judge you by the color of your skin, whether you’re gay, straight or trans, whether you’re confined to a wheel chair or whether you’re an athlete, whether you’re young or old or even older, like me and Vesta,
If they judge you at all, they judge you by the content of your character.
Is it any wonder why so many are afraid of them.
And she said, pointing at Trinidad, Sage, Finley and Lily, “You know how you like photographing young people.”
And though the bus was still up front in my mind, she was right. We’ve easily photograph over a hundred thousand people in our lifetimes, the youngest was about a second old, the oldest had just turned a hundred and four.
I like photographing children and I love photographing couples on their wedding day. I like birthdays, family reunions, people in bars, anytime people are happy. But far and away, I love photographing young people in high school the best.
First off, when Vesta and I walk up to them with our cameras, they never say no, but that’s not the main reason I love them so much. I think it’s not just because they’re our future, but because they see things differently than we do, look at life differently and mostly they’re unafraid of the future, even though it’s theirs to shape.
And a lot of people in America, some not even that far out of high school, are afraid of them. Because if we don’t kill ourselves off, they’re going to bring about great change. Because for the most part, without even knowing it, they’ve taken the message of Dr. King to heart. They don’t judge you by the color of your skin, whether you’re gay, straight or trans, whether you’re confined to a wheel chair or whether you’re an athlete, whether you’re young or old or even older, like me and Vesta,
If they judge you at all, they judge you by the content of your character.
Is it any wonder why so many are afraid of them.
Here are Willow and Noah. We only spent enough time with them to make these photographs and to get their names, so we know no more about them than that. However, we do know that both the iPhone and the camera made very pleasing photographs. They rendered their skin tones differently and I suppose the best looking ones are a matter of preference. Personally, Vesta likes the iPhone photo better and me, I favor the camera photo.
Here are the Zig Zag El Camino No Name Band. We met them busking on Second by the Chase Bank. They were just finishing their lunch break when we came across them. They don’t have a name for their band yet, so I made one up for this post, because we didn’t get there names.
For reasons, I can’t figure out, we didn’t think of getting those names till we were about three blocks away, so the ZZECNMB (Short for the band name I made up) name will have to do.
Oh yes, the photo above was taken with the iPhone. The two below with the camera and the three individual photos of the ZZECNMB members were taken with the iPhone. And I have to admit, I’m liking carrying around a phone with good camera better and better.
For reasons, I can’t figure out, we didn’t think of getting those names till we were about three blocks away, so the ZZECNMB (Short for the band name I made up) name will have to do.
Oh yes, the photo above was taken with the iPhone. The two below with the camera and the three individual photos of the ZZECNMB members were taken with the iPhone. And I have to admit, I’m liking carrying around a phone with good camera better and better.
Here are Jenny and Forest, probably not their real names and I figured that out when Forest started calling me Captain Dan. I can’t begin to tell you how happy these two people were.
I asked them if they were a couple and they and Jenny said, “Oh God no.” Then I asked them how long they’d known each other and Forest said, “About five minutes.” But I could tell that wasn’t true.
And Jenny and Forest, if you’re not a couple for real, I’m thinking maybe you should be, because you laugh together like a couple who belongs together. So just remember this, “A kiss is still a kiss. A sigh is still a sigh. And Vesta and I are wedding photographers.”
I asked them if they were a couple and they and Jenny said, “Oh God no.” Then I asked them how long they’d known each other and Forest said, “About five minutes.” But I could tell that wasn’t true.
And Jenny and Forest, if you’re not a couple for real, I’m thinking maybe you should be, because you laugh together like a couple who belongs together. So just remember this, “A kiss is still a kiss. A sigh is still a sigh. And Vesta and I are wedding photographers.”
Jenny and Forest were wearing Van’s. I was too.
Here is Singh, who we saw coming toward us as we were standing in front of Panama Joe’s. So waited till got to us, then I asked him if he’d let us put him in our project. He said, “Yes.” And here he is. And in this case, in this light, both the iPhone and the camera made excellent photos. But this time Vesta and I are in agreement, we like the camera photo best.
It looked like Peter and Alex had just met Meropi and Don for lunch at Rubio’s Costal Grill on Second Street and I sort’ve interrupted them before they could go inside. Also, the two photos above were taken with the iPhone, the one below, with the camera. The camera was clearly better this time.
This tile work of scenic Catalina was on the front of a house on Ocean in Belmont Shore and it was just begging to be photographed.
And this stained glass sailboat scene was in the window of a house in Bluff Park. It too, was begging to be photographed.
And lastly, this cardboard box was on the top of a bunch of trash, which was were it belonged, in trash can on Broadway, and I liked the words on it.
__________
CLEAN SLATE - Chapter 5, 2nd Part.
Chloe followed Kennedy down the dock, to a sailboat that looked as new as her dad’s car did the day they fell in love with it on the showroom floor. That car was a thing of beauty. Kennedy’s sailboat was too.
Kennedy stepped onto the finger pier, then up onto the boat. She set the boxes she’d been carrying in the cockpit, turned to retrieve Chloe’s after she boarded.
“Well, what do you think?” Kennedy said.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Wait till you see below.” Kennedy opened the hatch.
“Wow. I love the carpet.” Chloe had lived by the ocean her whole life, had grown up around sailboats, but she’d had no idea the inside of one could look so luxurious. The carpet was red and gold, very thick and it looked very old and it looked like it probably cost as much as the boat it was on. “Somebody cut up a very nice carpet. But it looks beautiful.”
“You know, I never thought of it like that. Norris represented an Iranian rug merchant, excuse me, a ‘Persian’ rug merchant. He was particular about that.” She laughed. “Anyway, Norris got him out of paying like zillions in alimony and the guy was so thankful. He had this carpet installed in the boat.”
“He must really have been grateful, because when he cut it up and turned it into a wall to wall boat carpet, he destroyed it’s value. And it was worth a lot.”
“Well, it’s ours now,” Kennedy said and I intend to enjoy it.
“Even though it’s lost it’s value, it’d be a mortal sin to tramp saltwater on it and it’s on a sailboat, so how do you not?”
“Well, I don’t believe the boat’s been out of the slip, since it’s been installed and that was three or four years ago.”
“That’s a long time for a sailboat to not be out on the ocean.”
“We’ll take her out.”
“But the carpet?”
“Heck, it’s not nailed down. There’s hatches underneath. We could roll it up and store it in the forward cabin if we want go sailing.”
“Still, it’s beautiful,” Chloe said.
“It is that,” Kennedy said. Then, “Let’s get the rest of our stuff.”
* * *
Jesse knew Norris had a boat in the marina, called So Sue Me, a name only a lawyer could love. He’d come by to check it out shortly after he’d come home, on a day when his parents were still alive.
So Sue Me was A forty-five foot Beneteau, not as grand as the boat Norris had had in the Caribbean all those years ago, but not a bad boat either. He was surprised the man could still afford to keep her. Maybe his father hadn’t crippled him as much financially as he’d thought.
While he’d been on the dock, lost a little in thought, as he was looking over Norris’s boat, a jolly, clown like voice interrupted his reverie.
“You’re not the man I was supposed to meet.”
Jesse turned to see a large man, wearing a jacket and tie with checkered golf pants. He looked every bit as much the clown as his voice advertised. “No, I’m not.”
“You a boat person?”
“I used to be, once upon a time,” Jesse had said.
“A sailor?”
“Very much a sailor.”
“Then you should be looking at Cayenne next door.” He pointed.
Jesse followed the pointed finger, saw a flush deck racing sloop in need of repair. And it was love at first sight.
“Ah,” the clown man stuck his hand out. “Jackson Diamond, yacht broker.”
“Is that really your name?” Jesse had taken his hand with a smile.
“It really is.” The man looked like he was pushing seventy or eighty, Jesse couldn’t tell, but he was old, portly, with a ruddy complexion and sporting a handlebar mustache, grey as his full head of hair. He could stand to lose thirty, maybe forty pounds and it looked like he’d never been on a sailboat in his life.
“You sell many boats?”
“Don’t let my looks fool you.”
“I would never do that,” Jesse said.
“Good, you don’t read me and I won’t read you.”
“Fair enough.”
“Now about Cayenne, he pointed to the boat again. She’s sixty feet, a one off built in 1972 by Charley Morgan. She’s been sitting awhile and needs a crew to sail her. But she could be converted to a cruiser. You’d have to replace those grinders with electric, self tailing winches. And you might wanna roller furl the jib and add a staysail.”
He laughed, hail and hearty from deep in his belly.
“Then, of course, you’d have to put a hundred grand or more into refitting her below.”
“So no cabins below,” Jesse said. “No galley either, just a couple heads and multiple berths along the bulkheads.”
“You do know boats,” Diamond said.
“What’s she draw?”
“Twelve feet.”
“Ouch.” Jesse half frowned. “She won’t be going to the bahamas then.”
“You’re a Caribbean sailor?”
“Not anymore.”
“Well, she can go anywhere in the Pacific and she’s been to the Caribbean twice. Spent some time racing in Trinidad. I know, I captained her there. Wonderful place, Trinidad.” He smiled. “Ever been?”
“I’ve been there,” Jesse said. And now it was his turn to smile. “How much?”
“Ah.” Diamond’s smile got wider. “A hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“If I was interested, I’d offer you eighty-five, you’d come back with a hundred and we’d have a deal.” He shook his head. “But I’m not interested.”
“Oh yes you are.” Diamond could see it. Jesse could feel it. “Come back anytime and check her out. We don’t keep her locked up. Nothing below to steal.” He chuckled. “And when you’re ready, I’m pretty sure the owner will take that hundred grand.”
“How sure.”
“Very sure. I’m the owner.” He handed Jesse his card and he put it in his wallet.
He’d been thinking back to and enjoying that conversation as he watched the women unload a duffel bag and a couple suitcases from the sports car. They weren’t going sailing, he was certain of that. So what?
He got out of the car, headed toward the dock, while the women were still unloading their stuff. He hustled down the dock, passed So Sue Me, took the finger pier between Norris’ boat and Cayenne and boarded the race boat. What the heck, the owner had given him permission, after all.
He tried the hatch from the cockpit and true to the yacht broker’s word, it wasn’t locked. He took the ladder down and saw that he’d been right. It was basically a hollowed out hull, berths along the bulkheads, a table in the giant salon with benches. A captain’s chair in front of a chart table on the starboard side and not much else, except a couple heads forward and a couple more berths.
But she had potential. Jackson Diamond had been right about that.
He went back to the ladder, stood on the first step, poked his head out of the hatch, saw the women coming down the dock, both laden with duffels and suitcases.
Were they moving aboard? That didn’t make sense.
He listened, heard them laughing as they approached.
“Norris is going to be so pissed.” He recognized Kennedy’s voice. It hadn’t changed.
“I don’t think you should take it so lightly,” the Asian woman said.
“Oh, Chloe,” Kennedy said. “I’m not taking it lightly.” Chloe, he liked that name.
“Think he got your voicemail yet?” Chloe said. They were on the finger pier between the two boats and Jesse could hear just as well as if they were right next to him.
“No,” Kennedy said. “He’ll be on the slopes with the boys till the sun goes down. But he’ll find out I’ve left him soon enough.” So she’d left Norris. That could put a new light on things. He’d have to wait and see how Norris reacted.
More than anything, he wanted to cause the man the same kind of pain he’d gone through, but if he and Kennedy were quits, if he had no feelings for her, what was the point? He sighed, there was always the boys. Somebody had to pay. Norris had to suffer. It was only fair.
He stepped off the ladder, sat at the big table, took out his wallet and cellphone. He fished the yacht broker’s card from the wallet and tapped in his number.
“Diamond.” Jackson Diamond answered on the first ring.
“This is Jesse Nazareth. We met by your boat awhile back. I’m the Caribbean sailor.”
“I remember you.”
“I’m aboard your boat now.”
“Want me to come by?”
“Tomorrow’s soon enough, around noon would be good.”
“I’ll bring the papers.”
“I’ll have a check ready.”
* * *
Chloe couldn’t believe it. Noon and she’d moved again, twice in the same month. The manager at the apartments hadn’t given a hoot, because she told him he could keep his deposit and the last month’s rent.
The boat had three cabins. They’d each taken one and decided to use the third to store the guitars and amps. Chloe didn’t have anything fancy, just her Ovation and a Pignose, but Kennedy was going to buy some stuff. She was higher than a kite on getting back into singing. Heck, after last night, who wouldn’t be?
Chloe loved the boat, but going to the bathroom up at the marina restroom at the end of the dock was going to take some getting used to. Fortunately, there were restrooms and showers at the end of every dock, so they wouldn’t get too crowded. Having to wait would be a bummer. She’d always had her own bathroom, except for the two weeks she’d been away at camp in high school. She didn’t like it then, but she was older now, she could adapt.
“Come on, let’s go get me a couple guitars,” Kennedy said, after they’d gotten all their stuff aboard and put away.
Twenty minutes later, at McCabe's, Kennedy picked out a Martin D-35 acoustic, a Fender Telecaster electric, a Pignose amp, a couple capos and about a zillion picks.
“I love this car,” Chloe said on their way back to the boat. They had the top down on the two seater BMW.
“You know, Norris hardly ever let me drive it. If there was anyway he could have stuffed the boys and the skis in here, we’d be driving a Volvo station wagon right now.”
“Not gonna take my job are you?” Chloe kidded.
“Kind of, I was thinking we could work up an act. We’ll have to figure out what to call ourselves.”
“You’re kidding, right? Me singing with you? That would be great, but I’m not in your league, no way. You’re a star.”
“Was a star.”
“No, I was there last night, remember. It won’t take long, you’re gonna go right back up to the top.”
“Then you’re going with me. We’re gonna be an act. Shea and Hart. That’s us.”
* * *
Kennedy smiled. The wind whipped her hair as they drove down Second Street, headed for the Edgewater Marina. She was leaving her husband, throwing away her home, her friends, her life for a cramped existence on a boat with a twenty-year-old roommate. She should be down and depressed. Depressed deeper than she’d been just last night, but she wasn’t. She’d never felt higher. She felt like she had her fate in her hands. She hadn’t felt like that since the last time she’d played the Whisky. God, those were the days. She couldn’t believe she was going to get them all back again.
Back at the marina, they loaded the guitars and amp aboard.
“We’ll need to rent a studio someplace,” Kennedy said. “Somewhere close. You got any original songs.”
“Yeah, some.”
“I’ll write a couple, then we can do some together. We’ll need enough for an album pretty quick. We’ll produce it ourselves. It shouldn’t cost that much for a couple thousand copies.”
“You’re going awful fast.”
“We’re gonna be good and we’re gonna have to have something for the audience to take home. We don’t want them forgetting us.”
“Oh, shit, I almost forgot. This came to our house last week. Dad threw it in with my stuff and I opened it by mistake.” Chloe wore a worried look as she handed an envelope over to Kennedy. “I hope it’s not anything bad.”
Kennedy took the envelope. It was from the hospital, so it had to be the result of her mammogram. It would be normal, they always were. But it wasn’t.
“It says they want you to call the hospital and make an appointment for further testing.” Chloe’s lower lip was quivering. “I’m sorry I forgot.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s nothing.” Then “Can I use your phone?” Mine’s still at where I used to live.”
“Sure.” Chloe pulled her phone from a hip pocket, handed it to Kennedy.
And Kennedy called the hospital. The woman who answered couldn’t have been kinder. She told her there was probably nothing to worry about, these things happened and Kennedy made an appointment to come in after the first of the year.
“See,” she told Chloe, “It’s not a problem, otherwise they’d want me to come in right away, not next month.”
“That’s good to hear.” Relief was evident on Chloe’s face.
“Relax, girl. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
* * *
Living aboard a sailboat after all these years. He couldn’t believe it. True, it was pretty bare bones, but he had more money than he’d ever be able to spend in a dozen lifetimes. More money than anybody in America should be allowed to have.
Jesse called the yacht broker back.
“Haven’t changed your mind, have you?” Diamond answered.
“No.” He paused, took a breath, then jumped in. “I’m in love with this boat. However, I’d like to make some improvements and money isn’t a problem.
“Go on.”
“I’d like you to arrange to have Cayenne taken to the best shipyard in Southern California. Once there, I’d like the deck changes you mentioned taken care of. You know, Harken power winches. Harken roller furling. But forget the Staysail. I never did like cutter rigs. And I’d like it done fast, couple weeks.”
“That’s a tall order.”
“There more,” Jesse said.
“I’d like to hear.”
“I’d like a power windlass up front, three quarter inch chain, two hundred feet, CQR anchor, sixty pounds.”
“You do know boats.”
“There’s still more.”
“I’m sure there is.”
“Well, I’d like a bulkhead forward, between the chain locker and the forward cabin.”
“There is no forward cabin.” Diamond laughed.
“Yeah, about that. I’d like it large with a full sized berth. Then moving a bit aft, I’d like two heads opposite each other, the one on the port side next to a single birth cabin, which can be used as an office. The one on the right will be for the forward cabin. Going more aft, I’d like a galley as good as any you’ve ever seen on an expensive sailing yacht.”
Diamond whistled.
“Moving aft, past the galley, a large salon.” He paused for effect. “We can lose the captain’s chair and chart table and replace them with a table and bench seating for dining.”
“Is that it?”
“Yeah, I think so,” he said. Then, “Wait, I’d like it all done in teak with purple heart trim.” He laughed, but there was no smile in it. “That’s it.”
“You’re talking about a whole lotta money.”
“You’re right about me. I do know boats. There was a time I coulda got all this done in the islands for fifty or sixty thousand. Time has moved on and we’re in the States. So I’m guessing a couple hundred. You’re gonna need a rigging firm, carpenters, a refrigeration guy. And, oh yeah, I’m gonna want a shower up by those heads and a generator, I’m partial to Northern Lights. And batteries, I’ll need those. And a kick ass stereo, so you’re gonna need electricians too.”
“You’re gonna wanna add more water storage,” Diamond said. “And maybe a watermaker.”
“Okay, and anything else you can think of. Can you get it done in sixty days?”
“Not possible.”
“I’m thinking you’re gonna have a dozen or so full time people working on the boat. Whatever they’re getting, wherever their working, I’ll triple. Plus, I’ll add in a ten thousand bonus for each man on the job if they get it done in sixty days.”
“Still not possible.”
“And a fifty thousand dollar bonus for you. If it’s done in sixty days.”
“I’ll have a crew pick up the boat tomorrow, right after you give me that check and a hefty deposit for the work?”
CLEAN SLATE - Chapter 5, 2nd Part.
Chloe followed Kennedy down the dock, to a sailboat that looked as new as her dad’s car did the day they fell in love with it on the showroom floor. That car was a thing of beauty. Kennedy’s sailboat was too.
Kennedy stepped onto the finger pier, then up onto the boat. She set the boxes she’d been carrying in the cockpit, turned to retrieve Chloe’s after she boarded.
“Well, what do you think?” Kennedy said.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Wait till you see below.” Kennedy opened the hatch.
“Wow. I love the carpet.” Chloe had lived by the ocean her whole life, had grown up around sailboats, but she’d had no idea the inside of one could look so luxurious. The carpet was red and gold, very thick and it looked very old and it looked like it probably cost as much as the boat it was on. “Somebody cut up a very nice carpet. But it looks beautiful.”
“You know, I never thought of it like that. Norris represented an Iranian rug merchant, excuse me, a ‘Persian’ rug merchant. He was particular about that.” She laughed. “Anyway, Norris got him out of paying like zillions in alimony and the guy was so thankful. He had this carpet installed in the boat.”
“He must really have been grateful, because when he cut it up and turned it into a wall to wall boat carpet, he destroyed it’s value. And it was worth a lot.”
“Well, it’s ours now,” Kennedy said and I intend to enjoy it.
“Even though it’s lost it’s value, it’d be a mortal sin to tramp saltwater on it and it’s on a sailboat, so how do you not?”
“Well, I don’t believe the boat’s been out of the slip, since it’s been installed and that was three or four years ago.”
“That’s a long time for a sailboat to not be out on the ocean.”
“We’ll take her out.”
“But the carpet?”
“Heck, it’s not nailed down. There’s hatches underneath. We could roll it up and store it in the forward cabin if we want go sailing.”
“Still, it’s beautiful,” Chloe said.
“It is that,” Kennedy said. Then, “Let’s get the rest of our stuff.”
* * *
Jesse knew Norris had a boat in the marina, called So Sue Me, a name only a lawyer could love. He’d come by to check it out shortly after he’d come home, on a day when his parents were still alive.
So Sue Me was A forty-five foot Beneteau, not as grand as the boat Norris had had in the Caribbean all those years ago, but not a bad boat either. He was surprised the man could still afford to keep her. Maybe his father hadn’t crippled him as much financially as he’d thought.
While he’d been on the dock, lost a little in thought, as he was looking over Norris’s boat, a jolly, clown like voice interrupted his reverie.
“You’re not the man I was supposed to meet.”
Jesse turned to see a large man, wearing a jacket and tie with checkered golf pants. He looked every bit as much the clown as his voice advertised. “No, I’m not.”
“You a boat person?”
“I used to be, once upon a time,” Jesse had said.
“A sailor?”
“Very much a sailor.”
“Then you should be looking at Cayenne next door.” He pointed.
Jesse followed the pointed finger, saw a flush deck racing sloop in need of repair. And it was love at first sight.
“Ah,” the clown man stuck his hand out. “Jackson Diamond, yacht broker.”
“Is that really your name?” Jesse had taken his hand with a smile.
“It really is.” The man looked like he was pushing seventy or eighty, Jesse couldn’t tell, but he was old, portly, with a ruddy complexion and sporting a handlebar mustache, grey as his full head of hair. He could stand to lose thirty, maybe forty pounds and it looked like he’d never been on a sailboat in his life.
“You sell many boats?”
“Don’t let my looks fool you.”
“I would never do that,” Jesse said.
“Good, you don’t read me and I won’t read you.”
“Fair enough.”
“Now about Cayenne, he pointed to the boat again. She’s sixty feet, a one off built in 1972 by Charley Morgan. She’s been sitting awhile and needs a crew to sail her. But she could be converted to a cruiser. You’d have to replace those grinders with electric, self tailing winches. And you might wanna roller furl the jib and add a staysail.”
He laughed, hail and hearty from deep in his belly.
“Then, of course, you’d have to put a hundred grand or more into refitting her below.”
“So no cabins below,” Jesse said. “No galley either, just a couple heads and multiple berths along the bulkheads.”
“You do know boats,” Diamond said.
“What’s she draw?”
“Twelve feet.”
“Ouch.” Jesse half frowned. “She won’t be going to the bahamas then.”
“You’re a Caribbean sailor?”
“Not anymore.”
“Well, she can go anywhere in the Pacific and she’s been to the Caribbean twice. Spent some time racing in Trinidad. I know, I captained her there. Wonderful place, Trinidad.” He smiled. “Ever been?”
“I’ve been there,” Jesse said. And now it was his turn to smile. “How much?”
“Ah.” Diamond’s smile got wider. “A hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“If I was interested, I’d offer you eighty-five, you’d come back with a hundred and we’d have a deal.” He shook his head. “But I’m not interested.”
“Oh yes you are.” Diamond could see it. Jesse could feel it. “Come back anytime and check her out. We don’t keep her locked up. Nothing below to steal.” He chuckled. “And when you’re ready, I’m pretty sure the owner will take that hundred grand.”
“How sure.”
“Very sure. I’m the owner.” He handed Jesse his card and he put it in his wallet.
He’d been thinking back to and enjoying that conversation as he watched the women unload a duffel bag and a couple suitcases from the sports car. They weren’t going sailing, he was certain of that. So what?
He got out of the car, headed toward the dock, while the women were still unloading their stuff. He hustled down the dock, passed So Sue Me, took the finger pier between Norris’ boat and Cayenne and boarded the race boat. What the heck, the owner had given him permission, after all.
He tried the hatch from the cockpit and true to the yacht broker’s word, it wasn’t locked. He took the ladder down and saw that he’d been right. It was basically a hollowed out hull, berths along the bulkheads, a table in the giant salon with benches. A captain’s chair in front of a chart table on the starboard side and not much else, except a couple heads forward and a couple more berths.
But she had potential. Jackson Diamond had been right about that.
He went back to the ladder, stood on the first step, poked his head out of the hatch, saw the women coming down the dock, both laden with duffels and suitcases.
Were they moving aboard? That didn’t make sense.
He listened, heard them laughing as they approached.
“Norris is going to be so pissed.” He recognized Kennedy’s voice. It hadn’t changed.
“I don’t think you should take it so lightly,” the Asian woman said.
“Oh, Chloe,” Kennedy said. “I’m not taking it lightly.” Chloe, he liked that name.
“Think he got your voicemail yet?” Chloe said. They were on the finger pier between the two boats and Jesse could hear just as well as if they were right next to him.
“No,” Kennedy said. “He’ll be on the slopes with the boys till the sun goes down. But he’ll find out I’ve left him soon enough.” So she’d left Norris. That could put a new light on things. He’d have to wait and see how Norris reacted.
More than anything, he wanted to cause the man the same kind of pain he’d gone through, but if he and Kennedy were quits, if he had no feelings for her, what was the point? He sighed, there was always the boys. Somebody had to pay. Norris had to suffer. It was only fair.
He stepped off the ladder, sat at the big table, took out his wallet and cellphone. He fished the yacht broker’s card from the wallet and tapped in his number.
“Diamond.” Jackson Diamond answered on the first ring.
“This is Jesse Nazareth. We met by your boat awhile back. I’m the Caribbean sailor.”
“I remember you.”
“I’m aboard your boat now.”
“Want me to come by?”
“Tomorrow’s soon enough, around noon would be good.”
“I’ll bring the papers.”
“I’ll have a check ready.”
* * *
Chloe couldn’t believe it. Noon and she’d moved again, twice in the same month. The manager at the apartments hadn’t given a hoot, because she told him he could keep his deposit and the last month’s rent.
The boat had three cabins. They’d each taken one and decided to use the third to store the guitars and amps. Chloe didn’t have anything fancy, just her Ovation and a Pignose, but Kennedy was going to buy some stuff. She was higher than a kite on getting back into singing. Heck, after last night, who wouldn’t be?
Chloe loved the boat, but going to the bathroom up at the marina restroom at the end of the dock was going to take some getting used to. Fortunately, there were restrooms and showers at the end of every dock, so they wouldn’t get too crowded. Having to wait would be a bummer. She’d always had her own bathroom, except for the two weeks she’d been away at camp in high school. She didn’t like it then, but she was older now, she could adapt.
“Come on, let’s go get me a couple guitars,” Kennedy said, after they’d gotten all their stuff aboard and put away.
Twenty minutes later, at McCabe's, Kennedy picked out a Martin D-35 acoustic, a Fender Telecaster electric, a Pignose amp, a couple capos and about a zillion picks.
“I love this car,” Chloe said on their way back to the boat. They had the top down on the two seater BMW.
“You know, Norris hardly ever let me drive it. If there was anyway he could have stuffed the boys and the skis in here, we’d be driving a Volvo station wagon right now.”
“Not gonna take my job are you?” Chloe kidded.
“Kind of, I was thinking we could work up an act. We’ll have to figure out what to call ourselves.”
“You’re kidding, right? Me singing with you? That would be great, but I’m not in your league, no way. You’re a star.”
“Was a star.”
“No, I was there last night, remember. It won’t take long, you’re gonna go right back up to the top.”
“Then you’re going with me. We’re gonna be an act. Shea and Hart. That’s us.”
* * *
Kennedy smiled. The wind whipped her hair as they drove down Second Street, headed for the Edgewater Marina. She was leaving her husband, throwing away her home, her friends, her life for a cramped existence on a boat with a twenty-year-old roommate. She should be down and depressed. Depressed deeper than she’d been just last night, but she wasn’t. She’d never felt higher. She felt like she had her fate in her hands. She hadn’t felt like that since the last time she’d played the Whisky. God, those were the days. She couldn’t believe she was going to get them all back again.
Back at the marina, they loaded the guitars and amp aboard.
“We’ll need to rent a studio someplace,” Kennedy said. “Somewhere close. You got any original songs.”
“Yeah, some.”
“I’ll write a couple, then we can do some together. We’ll need enough for an album pretty quick. We’ll produce it ourselves. It shouldn’t cost that much for a couple thousand copies.”
“You’re going awful fast.”
“We’re gonna be good and we’re gonna have to have something for the audience to take home. We don’t want them forgetting us.”
“Oh, shit, I almost forgot. This came to our house last week. Dad threw it in with my stuff and I opened it by mistake.” Chloe wore a worried look as she handed an envelope over to Kennedy. “I hope it’s not anything bad.”
Kennedy took the envelope. It was from the hospital, so it had to be the result of her mammogram. It would be normal, they always were. But it wasn’t.
“It says they want you to call the hospital and make an appointment for further testing.” Chloe’s lower lip was quivering. “I’m sorry I forgot.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s nothing.” Then “Can I use your phone?” Mine’s still at where I used to live.”
“Sure.” Chloe pulled her phone from a hip pocket, handed it to Kennedy.
And Kennedy called the hospital. The woman who answered couldn’t have been kinder. She told her there was probably nothing to worry about, these things happened and Kennedy made an appointment to come in after the first of the year.
“See,” she told Chloe, “It’s not a problem, otherwise they’d want me to come in right away, not next month.”
“That’s good to hear.” Relief was evident on Chloe’s face.
“Relax, girl. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
* * *
Living aboard a sailboat after all these years. He couldn’t believe it. True, it was pretty bare bones, but he had more money than he’d ever be able to spend in a dozen lifetimes. More money than anybody in America should be allowed to have.
Jesse called the yacht broker back.
“Haven’t changed your mind, have you?” Diamond answered.
“No.” He paused, took a breath, then jumped in. “I’m in love with this boat. However, I’d like to make some improvements and money isn’t a problem.
“Go on.”
“I’d like you to arrange to have Cayenne taken to the best shipyard in Southern California. Once there, I’d like the deck changes you mentioned taken care of. You know, Harken power winches. Harken roller furling. But forget the Staysail. I never did like cutter rigs. And I’d like it done fast, couple weeks.”
“That’s a tall order.”
“There more,” Jesse said.
“I’d like to hear.”
“I’d like a power windlass up front, three quarter inch chain, two hundred feet, CQR anchor, sixty pounds.”
“You do know boats.”
“There’s still more.”
“I’m sure there is.”
“Well, I’d like a bulkhead forward, between the chain locker and the forward cabin.”
“There is no forward cabin.” Diamond laughed.
“Yeah, about that. I’d like it large with a full sized berth. Then moving a bit aft, I’d like two heads opposite each other, the one on the port side next to a single birth cabin, which can be used as an office. The one on the right will be for the forward cabin. Going more aft, I’d like a galley as good as any you’ve ever seen on an expensive sailing yacht.”
Diamond whistled.
“Moving aft, past the galley, a large salon.” He paused for effect. “We can lose the captain’s chair and chart table and replace them with a table and bench seating for dining.”
“Is that it?”
“Yeah, I think so,” he said. Then, “Wait, I’d like it all done in teak with purple heart trim.” He laughed, but there was no smile in it. “That’s it.”
“You’re talking about a whole lotta money.”
“You’re right about me. I do know boats. There was a time I coulda got all this done in the islands for fifty or sixty thousand. Time has moved on and we’re in the States. So I’m guessing a couple hundred. You’re gonna need a rigging firm, carpenters, a refrigeration guy. And, oh yeah, I’m gonna want a shower up by those heads and a generator, I’m partial to Northern Lights. And batteries, I’ll need those. And a kick ass stereo, so you’re gonna need electricians too.”
“You’re gonna wanna add more water storage,” Diamond said. “And maybe a watermaker.”
“Okay, and anything else you can think of. Can you get it done in sixty days?”
“Not possible.”
“I’m thinking you’re gonna have a dozen or so full time people working on the boat. Whatever they’re getting, wherever their working, I’ll triple. Plus, I’ll add in a ten thousand bonus for each man on the job if they get it done in sixty days.”
“Still not possible.”
“And a fifty thousand dollar bonus for you. If it’s done in sixty days.”
“I’ll have a crew pick up the boat tomorrow, right after you give me that check and a hefty deposit for the work?”