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Chapter One
Unfurling its sails in the dim light of pre-dawn, “The Rose” slid gracefully out of Sarasota Bay. Within seconds the main sail grabbed the breeze, fully extending. Katlin Rose pulled on the wench until the sail snapped crisply. The main sail sported an underwater scene with a Mako shark, an orca, and a barracuda winding through the coral. Towards the top of the sail, an immense devil ray soared, heading for the surface. Katlin loved the sail. It had been a gift from her father in celebration of the purchase and refurbishing of “The Rose” two years ago.
The boat had caught her eye at the pier at Marina Jacks. Filthy dirty, sails ragged, and drowning in barnacles, it had been love at first sight. A hand painted “For Sale” sign was draped over her bow so Kate stopped to check it out. She had been greeted by a young northerner whose lack of a tan and knowledge of sailing made the details of the boat foreign to him. They toured the deck, which was a dingy white and close inspection revealed that the three sails would need to be replaced. There were chip marks throughout the paint job that would have to be sanded out – it needed a lot of work.
The hull housed two bedrooms both with showers, a kitchenette, a small but cozy sitting area, and a nice bathroom all of which was done in beautiful sandalwood. The beauty of the boat might have been lost on most viewing her due to the utter chaos below. It looked like a tornado had gone through it. The engine room was no better and that almost caused doubt about its sea-worthiness but Kate was in heaven standing there.
The young man, David, said the boat had belonged to his parents. It was in chaos because it had rolled in a storm off the Keys the previous summer. No one had taken the time to fix her up again with the exception of pumping out the seawater. His mother, who had never really cared for sailing before the storm, refused to step foot on the boat after it. His father could never quite bring himself to sale the boat though he never sailed her again either. Less than a year later, he died from a coronary – Kate figured it was more of a broken heart from giving up something he loved so much. David, who shared his mother’s dislike of the ocean, wanted to sell it rather than keep paying dock fees for it to sit there.
It didn’t take long before the then ineptly named “Crusty Geriatrics” became “The Rose”. With the help of friends the loving but tedious task of cleaning the sailing vessel began. It had taken two months to sand all the wood down, clean off the barnacles, repaint the boat a bright white with royal blue trim, and to receive the new sails that had to be flown in from a company in California. The diesel engine had to have a complete overhaul and the old captain’s chair up top was replaced with one much more comfy. A state of the art communications system was installed with radar, fax machine, depth finder, and – of course – computer outlets. Traveling alone, Kate wanted to be sure every safety angle was covered.
A local artist painted on the vessel’s new name – “The Rose” – in a beautiful Forte print. She had also designed a mural for the living space below – an underwater scene with manatees, dolphins, starfish and an array of beautiful coral. On the deck by the captain’s chair she painted an old fashion compass, which Kate thought added a bit of nostalgia to the vessel. The Captain’s chair was 10 feet from the rear of the boat to allow for storage of the diving tanks and diving dock. Three months after her purchase, the “Crusty Geriatrics” was christened “”The Rose”” with a proper bottle of champagne across her bow and all the fan fare of a major event.
