When padding his face dry, his head angled and poised, and at times even chased the promise of my touch. Finally I moved to his short hair. As I ran ...he towel over his head it was the only moment where my touch had unintentionally got too rough. But it felt as if he wanted to experience that type of touch too. It was as if we were testing our boundaries, needing to fight against me when every other touch had been a so sought after. When I’d finally finished drying him, it was his chance to. "What ever it was we were scraping it ... still.Finally ... it stopped.Wendy and the kids went below to check the bilges..."No leaks! The bilge pump hasn't run in days." Maybe it's plugged?"While we were contemplating that possibility, off the starboard side there was a racket of doors slamming and whooshes like fast moving air. There was running on metal decks and yelling in German. A huge diesel started running and there was the clunk of gears and propeller noises. What ever it was ... was. More

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