Page 10 of The Sailor in Polynesia
Jonas covered his face with his hands, his ears turning red. Lila and Eivind teased Jonas, but I didn’t think Elayna was teasing. I bit my tongue to keep from coming to his defense. He wasn’t the first person who’d tried to impress me with their knowledge of my videos.
“I think that’s amazing.” Marcella turned back to me. “There are so few women out here who are, you know, active sailors.”
“Right, well, even with all this experience, people still think you’re crazy. First, we told our families we were going out sailing, and my family wasn’t thrilled, but they were supportive. Liam’s family was vocal about their feelings.” I hesitated, not wanting to get too messy, and decided to move on. “And then, when you share your adventures online, the internet is full of the naysayers, the armchair sailors who are not afraid to tell you that you don’t know what you are doing and you are going to die.”
“Fuck them,” said Eivind, and I surprised myself by laughing.
“Yeah, fuck them.”
Four
The conversation ebbed away from my videos and we talked about previously visited islands and boat projects. We watched as the sun crept toward the horizon and, since we were surrounded by the atoll, celebrated the moment the top of the sun dipped below the tree line. The chorus of yips and yews echoed over the water.
Marcella disappeared back down below, waving away my offer to help in the galley. Across from me, Jonas had slipped into a relaxed slump, tilting his head back up at the sky. Elayna had leaned against him more and more, and they had defected into a side conversation. Jonas was so much more comfortable with her than he was around me. This was the first time I’d seen him relax and be less self-conscious.
Lila spoke up, turning my attention away from Jonas. “Mia, you are certainly inspiring me. I have so much to learn.”
Thankful for the change in conversation, I faced Lila. “How long have you been a sailor?”
“Let’s see, I joinedEikin Panama and we left in early March.”
“Wait, so how long had you known Eivind before you agreed to sail across the Pacific onEik?”
Lila wrinkled her nose. “Two weeks. I know it sounds crazy, and maybe a bit naïve, but I had a good feeling about everything. It’s a good boat, and Eivind and Jonas are so different, and yet the same. They make a great team.”
“How so?”
Lila rolled onto her stomach and propped her chin on her hand before answering. “They have good morals. Eivind is more of a wild child, but they are both so easygoing. Jonas would rather have peace and quiet, while Eivind’s more likely to be playing music or singing or strumming his guitar. Of course, they are both devilishly handsome.”
Lila pressed a kiss to Eivind’s shoulder. Eivind leaned into her and took a breath before planting a chaste kiss on Lila’s lips. They shared a smile that made my heart clench.
Jonas and Eivind were ridiculously handsome. Eivind was a bit shorter and stockier than Jonas, but they both had the same light blond hair and sharp blue eyes. Jonas’s limbs were long and lanky—he barely fit sitting sideways in the cockpit, both legs bent at the knee, one leg against the cushion, the other against the backrest. His feet were a few inches away from my thighs, his calves toned. Viewing his leg like this, I could see the edges of a tattoo peeking around from the back of his calf.
Was I just admiring his feet?
I think I realized it at the same time Jonas did, because I looked up to find him watching me. He held my gaze for a moment.
I flushed. “Your tattoo. Did you get it here in French Polynesia?”
Jonas grinned and twisted his leg so I could see it better. “Ja. Eivind, Elayna, and I both got tattoos in Nuku Hiva.”
Eivind twisted and lifted his sleeve, showing me a large tattoo that covered his deltoid. My eyes widened. “I’ve heard from other cruisers about the tattoo process.”
“It was amazing. The artists ask you questions, you tell them about your life and what’s important to you. And they create this”—Jonas gestured to his calf—“story that is just yours.”
“Did they use a tattoo gun, or the traditional method?”
“A gun,” Eivind said. “The tattoo guy said that they preferred not to do tattoos for foreigners the traditional way. Which makes sense. It was a little shack, and there were not,” Eivind struggled with his English, “traditional standards of hygiene, but it was the experience. And I love my tattoo.”
“What about you, Lila? Did you get one?”
She shuddered. “No, I couldn’t even watch Eivind’s being done.”
“Elayna?”
“Oui.”She stood up, lifting her shirt to reveal a delicate winding tattoo along her rib cage.
“Oh my God,” I breathed. “That is gorgeous.”
