Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Chapter 3

   Crichton handed over the watch to Mitch and went below into the main
stateroom with the table set for dinner.  With the high-tech equipment on
board it was very much a case of keeping watch.  Steering was accomplished
by a GPS driven auto-pilot which adapted to the sea-state to avoid large
course corrections and both the radar and GPS system were set up to give a
warning of other vessels whose tracks would bring them close to the
Singular.  All the watchman had to do was monitor the instruments and keep
a look out for other vessels which did not carry GPS transponders or were
not large enough to generate a radar echo.  Given that this meant most of
the local island-hopping vessels in the South Pacific, the technology was
less of a help than might be the case in international freight lanes.

   Quickly changing into his evening uniform, long trousers and a different
coloured polo, Crichton left the cabin he shared with Tanya and went into
the stateroom to play host to the passengers.  Normally the crew included a
permanent gourmet chef but Ms.  Sheremtova had insisted on a low-key voyage
and the catering would be provided by one of the crew and Tanya was the
responsible for the first meal.  He entered the small but well equipped
galley with just enough room for two people.

   "Everything ok sweetheart, can I do anything?"

   "Yes Dad, open the wine and put the salad on the table.  Otherwise we're
nearly ready to go."

   He tried to move past her in the tight space to get to the wine rack and
had to put his hands on her hips and squeeze his own body across her toned
buttocks as they changed places.

   "Move that sexy arse out of the way!" he laughed but then coughed
realising, once again, he'd said something that probably wasn't
appropriate.

   Her head shot up at the feel of his hands on her body, the contact with
her buttocks and the comment he'd made.  Was he now copping a feel on top
of ogling her earlier in the day?  What was going on?  Was her dad flirting
with her like any other girl?  She looked at him but his back was to her as
he fiddled with the bottles, surprised by the fact that she was pleased by
his words and the physical contact.

   For his part Crichton was totally confused as he thought about how good
the contact with her firm buttocks had felt and his underpants were now a
little fuller than before.  He had to remind himself that it was his
daughter he had just rubbed up against even if the contact was unavoidable.
He looked back at her just as her gaze dropped back to her food preparation
but he realised she had been staring at him and he wondered whether he'd
offended her.  He decided he should say something.

   "Erm, sorry about that, it seems I'm a bit out of order at the moment.
Perhaps I should go back to drinking."

   She turned to him and put her arms around him from behind and hugged
him, resting her head on his back.

   "No you don't!  If I have to put up with you perving over me to keep you
sober then I'll be glad to have helped.  Anyway it's nice to know you think
I have a sexy arse."

   He turned in her embrace and wrapped his arms about her and hugged her
and looked into her beautiful amber eyes.

   "I meant what I said earlier on about making Nadia feel second best. 
You have turned into a gorgeous woman who any man would find sexy,
especially in that string bikini." He then realised he'd probably
overstepped the mark again and hurried on again, to his own complete
embarrassment.

   "Not that I'd noticed of course, well I did but ..."

   She kissed her finger and placed it on his lips.

   "Shh, Dad, I'm glad you noticed and I'm glad to know that you hold me so
high in the pantheon of the world's beautiful women.  I presume Mum would
be at the top so I'm happy to be number 2"

   He looked confused for a second and then panic and anguish passed across
his face before he replied hesitantly.

   "Erm, I think...  I think ...  you are even more beautiful than your
mum." He stumbled over the words.

   "She was gorgeous, but you ...  you seem...  I don't know...  in my
head...  you are off any scale of beauty that anyone could put in front of
me.  That's not a reflection on your mum, just that the mixture of her and
me has created some exotic, precious and wondrous flower that has suddenly
blossomed, or maybe I've only just noticed.  If it's the latter, then I'm a
blind fool."

   She stood on tiptoes and pressed against him to kiss him softly on the
cheek holding his gaze with her own.

   "That was lovely, the most flattering thing anyone has ever said to me."

   Somehow his hands had descended to rest on her gloriously tight buttocks
and he could feel her firm breasts pressing against his chest.  The whole
sensation was enough for his cock to stir and thicken and Tanya felt this
growing erection and was again surprised, not just by the by the fact
itself, but by her own reaction when she did not pull away.  She hadn't
encouraged it but she didn't stop it either and wondered what message that
sent.  This confused her even more because she enjoyed the compliments and
the hint of lust in his glances and ...  the touches, especially the touch
of his body on hers.  But it was her dad!  She shouldn't be doing this and
nor should he but if it was contributing to the improvement in his whole
demeanour in the last few hours ...  then ...  so what ...  but how far
would she go to help in the process?

   They held each other's gaze, eyes reflecting love and she lowered her
head back to his broad chest and he gently kissed the top of her head. 
Their arms tightened around each other.

   "It's always good to cuddle with you, just like we used to when you were
younger.  Remember how you used to sit on my lap and we'd watch silly stuff
on TV when I was back from a voyage?  It was always a wrench to go back to
sea or when you went back to the UK at the end of your holidays.  It meant
no more cuddles and they were very important to me especially after your
mum died."

   "You can always cuddle me Dad; I love it just as much as you do and the
best bit is they're free!  I always felt so safe in your arms when you told
me it kept the wolves away when I was small.  Not that we saw too many of
them in Pinner did we?" she giggled.

   He smiled into her hair.

   "That's because we cuddled a lot.  They knew they never stood a chance
so moved to Harrow!  I guess we're keeping sharks at bay out here."

   "Well, we can cuddle some more later but we'll have some hungry
passengers who won't be kept at bay if we don't finish dinner."

   She pulled back in his arms and reached up intending to kiss his cheek
again but a small movement of the boat brought their lips together and
despite the shock, neither broke the gentle, loving kiss immediately. 
Eventually they separated with slightly embarrassed smiles and Crichton
smacked her buttocks as she turned away.

   "Get back to work cabin girl, the skipper is hungry too!"

   She giggled and reflected that his mood was definitely improving and
went back to the final preparations for dinner pondering recent events
while she did.  After the death of her mother he had spent a long time back
in the UK not working whilst things were sorted out and she saw how
frustrated he got from being away from the sea.  She had always been very
mature for her age and it had been her decision that the best thing for
both of them was for her to go to boarding school whilst he continued to
skipper yachts in far flung places around the world.  The fact that she got
fantastic holidays out of it was incidental!  Despite the forced separation
their relationship had strengthened not diminished mainly due to the
intense periods of togetherness during those holidays.

   However, the effects of his drinking had started to become apparent in
the last two years and they had argued about it this time leading to his
promise of abstinence.  She knew he did not have much of a social life as
he was never in one place long enough to form lasting friendships and she
realised he was lonely.  Maybe they should have another discussion about
him returning to the UK and doing short haul work, at least that way he
could base himself in one place for longer periods and maybe meet someone
to share his life.

   What occupied her thoughts more was her reaction to the physical
contact, the looks he gave her and the comments about her body.  What she
had originally laughed off as a joke was now spiralling into flirtation and
she quite liked this attention.  She had never seen her father in a sexual
light before and he had never acted this way towards her but in the space
of a few hours there had been a seismic change in their relationship and
she liked what was happening to him as a result.  But what would happen
next?

   The passengers gathered for dinner and Crichton, as skipper, hosted the
meal while the two crew members not on watch, Tanya and Tony, acted as
waiters.  The conversation was centred on the boat and the high tech nature
of the airfoil and the extra speed that this and the hydrofoils on the hull
gave it compared to a soft sail boat and.

   "So, we could actually do about 25 knots, that's nautical miles per
hour, which is over 30 normal miles per hour if you could put up with the
bashing from the waves.  We would get to Tahiti in less than 3 days but in
consideration for you we'll do a more sedate 10 to 15 knots which is still
a lot quicker than most cruising boats.  We control the speed using a
throttle, just like a power boat, but this one is connected to the computer
which trims the airfoil so we can set the most comfortable speed for the
conditions."

   "What happens if the computer control gear packs up?" asked Lance who
was interested in the technology even if Nadia and Chloe were getting
bored.

   "There are backup systems and if all else fails we can actually control
it with ropes and pulleys, just like a conventional boat."

   "Mr.  Crichton ..." interrupted Nadia looking accusingly at him but
Crichton tried to lighten the air and smiled.

   "Mr.  Crichton was my father, just call me Crichton or Bill or skipper."

   "Mr.  Crichton, how have you managed to become a skipper of such a
boat?"

   "I'm not sure I understand the question Ms.  Sheremtova.  I have been
sailing since I was 16 and have had an Ocean Yachtmaster's licence since I
was 22, nearly 20 years."

   "But you are black and I do not believe that black people are
intelligent enough to look after such a complicated boat!  You need to be
aware of my feelings seeing as how I'm your employer."

   Crichton was absolutely stunned by the comment, he had heard that many
Russians were racist but had not expected to suffer it first hand.  He
looked around the table and could see that both the children were equally
surprised and embarrassed by their mother's comment.  He tried to be
diplomatic in his response despite his growing anger.

   "I'm not sure that the colour of my skin has anything to with my
intelligence Ms.  Sheremtova.  All I can say is that I have been tested by
experts on many types of boats and have been passed fit to have and keep my
licence.  More importantly the sea has tested me for over 20 years and I'm
still here.  There is a saying both in sailing and flying that there are
old skippers and bold skippers but there are no old and bold skippers."

   He looked again at the children and saw a smile of sympathy and
understanding from Chloe.  Nadia continued to look at him with disdain in
her ice blue eyes and a scowl which distorted her flawless features.

   "Unfortunately you were the only qualified skipper available at short
notice otherwise I would have asked for someone else.  I just wish you to
know that I expect you and your crew to follow my instructions without
question."

   Crichton's anger was now at boiling point and he could restrain himself
no longer.  He rose from his chair to tower over her.

   "May I remind you that we are 50 miles from the nearest land and in
international waters.  As skipper of the vessel I have ultimate authority
over all the passengers and crew and can have you confined to your cabin if
you transgress MY instructions you cold racist bitch.  I don't know what
kind of prima donna life you lead normally and how everyone does your
bidding because you are famous but out here in doesn't matter.  Given that
I do not expect to work for you ever again after this voyage I will not be
following your instructions explicitly if they put the safety of the boat
and all the people on it at risk.  Now, as you are my emploer, I can turn
the boat around and go back to Samoa where you can charter any number of
yachts with white skippers.  Otherwise keep out of my way and I'll try to
keep out yours.  Where would you like to go, back to Samoa or on to
Tahiti?"

   Nadia cowered under the tirade and shrunk back in her chair looking more
like a frightened child than the ice-queen as she was unused to people
answering her back in this manner.  The mood was lightened by the sound of
a giggle from Chloe who was amused at seeing her normally imperious mother
cut down to size but stifled it as Nadia's angry gaze swept over her. 
Attempting to regain her poise Nadia stood up and looked angrily into
Crichton's eyes.

   "You may have authority out here but I will make you regret that
outburst.  No one talks to me like that and gets away with it.  I will
decide where we go tomorrow.  Now, out of my way I am going to my cabin."