Page 36 of The Hitchhiker in Panama
Eivind rummaged for a few minutes and brought the bottle of chilled champagne up to the cockpit, where five plastic wineglasses waited.
“Captain,” he said, and passed the bottle to Jonas.
Jonas removed the foil and untwisted the cage. Aiming the neck away from the cockpit, he pushed the cork and it came out with a loud pop, shooting overboard into the water. We all cheered and Jonas poured some bubbly into each glass.
Holding his glass up, he said, “Here is to the Pacific Ocean: her beauty is reputed to be the finest in the world. May her water and winds be sweet and kind. And here is to my crew: I could not have done it without you. Thank you for your help, and I’m glad to lead you onto our next adventure.”
We clinked glasses, the sound dulled, but the champagne tasted so good.
“Okay,mesdemoiselles et messieurs, we have big plans for the evening,” Elayna announced. “First stop, the rooftop!”
We downed our champagne and gathered at the side ofEik. Eivind pulled the line tied to the dinghy so that it was under the lifeline gate.
Jonas turned around and took a big step down to land in the dinghy. I watched Marcella and Elayna drop in; they were both wearing skirts, and they squatted down to sit on the edge of the deck, not minding their skirts riding up as their legs swung over the side. Then they slid off the edge to stand in the dinghy.
“A perk of the cruising life,” Elayna said. “Sometimes you have to flash the captain.”
Eivind offered me a hand. Thanks to my shorts, I didn’t flash anyone. I sat on the tube next to Marcella while Eivind jumped down, line in hand. I traced my finger over the words painted onto the little boat:Eikenøtt.
My eyebrows drew together. “Little Oak?”
Eivind grinned. “Acorn.”
We motored into the marina and to the dinghy dock, the inflatable riding low in the water with all of our weight. When we arrived, Eivind jumped out with the line, and I stood up and stepped onto the pontoon.
When we were all off, Eivind fixed the line to the cleat to secure the dinghy. Jonas pulled a small red cord off the outboard, silencing the engine. Attached to the cord was a small key, which he fitted to a lock and cable to prevent anyone from stealing the dinghy.
We walked through the marina to the road. La Playita Marina was located on a peninsula, a narrow strip of land connecting the marina to the rest of Panama City. Jonas and Eivind both pulled out their phones and requested Ubers.
Our Uber drivers took us to Casco Viejo, the old town of Panama City, and we got out in a square. Elayna led us through the lobby of a hotel and up the stairs to a rooftop bar. We grabbed a high top by the edge with a view of the coastline.
The scenery was stunning. The sun approached the horizon, the brightness of the day fading, and the lights of Panama City’s skyscrapers, visible several kilometers down the coast, sparkled in the darkening sky.
While we waited for our drinks, Elayna pulled out her phone. “Wemustselfie.” she said.
We gathered on one side of the table, the backdrop of the ocean and Panama City behind us.
“Un, deux, trois!”
Elayna took about fifteen pictures, the last half of which probably captured me grimacing. Eivind pulled back first.
“Enough, Elayna,” he said, exasperated.
She let us break apart, but flipped through the photos. “Look. This one is perfect!” She thrust her phone in my face.
Itwasperfect. We were smiling, relieved and happy. The pastel light of early sunset gave the city a soft glow and the ocean extended off into the horizon.
In the picture, Eivind was by my side, one arm around my waist, the other on Jonas’s shoulder, his palm squeezing his brother.
This might be the only picture I’d ever have with Eivind.
“Can you send this to me?”
“But of course.”
When our drinks came, we clinked glasses.
“Tell me about where you’ll go next,” I said.
