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Next morning the ‘Lady Pelican’ came into the harbour. She’s a very flash ferryboat that occasionally comes across Broken Bay and up the river. The skipper’s a real nice bloke called Barney. The Lady Pelican is a much bigger boat than ours, two decks, painted all white, and it’s got radar, and Barney can serve tea and coffee and snacks and stuff. I asked him for a job once, but he didn’t seem interested. He obviously didn’t realize what an asset I’d be to him. He tied up next to us on the wharf, but only one passenger came ashore. “Not much happening this morning Barney” I called across to him. “Nah, pretty quiet Jack, not worth the trouble really. Tell you what though, Johnny Blackman’s going to be real mad, I saw one of his houseboats heading out into Broken Bay.”
Johnny Blackman owns a boatyard up the river in Sandy Inlet, and he hires out houseboats by the day or the week. It’s always a problem hiring out boats to idiots who’ve never handled a boat before, and don’t know all the rules and regulations. They get a map with a line drawn across the mouth of the river and houseboats aren’t supposed to go outside it. If they go out into Broken Bay they might get hit by big waves coming in from the ocean, and houseboats can’t handle seas like that. They’re likely to get swamped and sink. “I’ll let Johnny know.” I called across. I phoned Johnny from the phone in our office. “What did the people aboard look like?” he asked. I called across to Barney and asked if he’d noticed. “I seem to remember they looked Asian, but I didn’t pass real close“, he yelled back. I passed the news on and Johnny cursed. “Those bastards only hired that boat this morning. I thought they weren’t listening when I told them the rules. Come to think of it their english wasn’t too good neither. Bloody idiots, I wonder sometimes why I bother" "Well let’s hope for the best, Johnny, there’s not much wind about and it’s off-shore so they may be alright.”
A little old lady came aboard that day. She had pure white hair pulled back in an old fashioned bun. She said she had old legs but her brain was still young. Tim helped her up the gangplank, and she smiled at him. As we started the trip she didn’t look too good so Tim asked her if she would like some water or a cup of tea. She said a cup of tea would be nice. We’ve got a gas ring in the back of the wheelhouse that runs off a gas bottle, so although we don’t usually serve hot drinks Tim put the kettle on specially for her. She was very grateful, and she chatted to Tim as she drank her tea, and asked all about us, who was in the family, what we all did, where we went to school, and all sorts of other nosey questions. As we tied up she went up to the wheelhouse and said to dad “What a lovely lad your Tim is. Can I adopt him?” Dad smiled. “How much will you give us for him?" "Oh I could never afford him, he’s priceless.” Dad nodded towards me. “How much for Jack then?” She looked me up and down like I was an old cow at the auction yard, then she said “He looks like he’s got a big appetite. You’d probably have to pay me to take him away.” She walked off down the gangplank, chuckling to herself, and bloody dad laughed too. “Old bat” I said, “she probably just wanted to fatten Tim up, ready for the oven.”
It was about that time that Tim started going out with Rosie, the checkout girl from the supermarket. Tim’s not very tall and Rosie was even shorter. I couldn’t find anything exciting about her at all. She had a round shiny face with no makeup, brown eyes, curly brown hair and a shapeless figure. She wore clunky black shoes and clothes that went out of fashion a hundred years ago. I couldn’t think what they saw in each other, but in one way they were well matched, they were both about as exciting as a plate of cold porridge.
On the other side of the coin, on one run a woman came aboard with several suitcases. I guessed she was in her mid thirties. Obviously she’d been a good looker in her teens, well built, blue eyes, eye-popping boobs, long blonde hair pulled back in a pony-tail, good makeup, smart pants and sandals, a black top, and showing black brassiere straps. She’d obviously been to the gym a lot, and she held herself very straight as she walked up the gangplank. When I glanced at her a bit closer I could see her makeup was covering up the damage of too much time spent sunbaking on the beach. When I collected her fare she looked me up and down, then said in a husky voice “Hi, I’m Marilyn. What’s your name?” “Jack” “Jack! Pleased to meet you! You’re a good-looking fellow! Do you work on this boat all the time?" "Yeh, I’m just doing it ‘til I can find something better.” She gave me a big smile, with a row of white teeth that were a great advert for her dentist. “I’ve just rented a cosy little place on the island and I don’t have a boat, so we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the future. I’ve just separated from my husband, so I’ll be living alone.” “Well, welcome to Mulloway Island” I said cautiously. “Not many passengers Jack.” “No, it’s always a bit quiet this time of day.” “Why don’t you come and sit down here for a bit then. I’d love to have a chat and you can tell me all about yourself.” Well, she didn’t believe in wasting any time. She patted the seat beside her. Yeh, the next move would be to slide up a little closer, and then her thigh would be rubbing up against mine. That’s the trouble with being a good-looking hunk like me. “Sorry lady but I’ve got more work to do before we tie up.”
I couldn’t think why she wanted to live on Mulloway Island; it must be the most boring place on earth. It’s so quiet, no private cars allowed, people go round on bikes and golf buggies, and the only thing to do at night is watch TV, or go to the bowling club, buy a small beer, and sit feeling bored. They’ve all got one foot in the grave if you ask me. As we edged in to the Island jetty Marylin gave me a piece of paper with an address and phone number on it. “Why don’t you drop in for a drink one evening soon?” She gave me her sexiest smile. “Yeh, ok, thanks very much.” She walked off along the gangplank, swaying her bum, which wasn’t as slim as it had been. Her pants were so tight you could see the outline of her panties. Dad came over. “Good looking woman! What did she want Jack?” “Bedroom push-ups.” “What?” I showed him the paper. “Bedroom push-ups, you know, sex. She’d probably want to go at it all night and then bloody well eat me for breakfast.” My kid brother, Tim, had gone off carrying her suitcases along the jetty to Jim Henty’s store, and he came back just then. “Here you are Tim,” I said, handing him the piece of paper, “why don’t you drop in on this chick one evening, Marilyn’s her name. She’ll certainly improve your education.” Dad grabbed the paper and screwed it up. “Don’t be disgusting Jack.” I walked off, and I couldn’t help smiling to myself.