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The Alize Tradewinds

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: solohappy Posted on: 23 Jan 2006 1 comments
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A reservation for one of sixteen places on one of four twenty-eight foot sailboats which would cruise in-between three tiny islands in the Caribbean as a little vacation flotilla was less expensive than a room on the beach at a two or even three-star resort...it sounded like a good deal. The downside would that I'd be put onto one of the boats with complete strangers; but at least I knew that they'd be strangers who shared my like of the water, the sun, and a warm week away in the Carribean. I'd link up with the charter company on St. Vincent; the first night we'd stay moored right off the beach, and then the boatst would sail in-between three islands for seven days; the islands were all within sight of each other; and the charter company would have launches close-by at all times to keep an eye on all of us as well as set up beach cookouts each evening.Up until I heard that the little island commuter flight that would get me to St. Vincent had been delayed, my biggest concern had been wondering if whoever filled the other single spot that my lone reservation created would be another guy; and if the other two spots on my boat wouldn't be a couple....or even two more guys! On the hand I fantasied that all three of the other spots would be single women; but as I looked around the airport I couldn't pick out a woman or even a man who didn't appear already coupled up with a spouse or a friend ready to start their vacation. The quick flight over to St. Vincent left almost two hours late; it was now almost dusk. I was the only single person on the plane.....I guess whoever would potentially be my single counterpart within this four-boat-(hopefully) beer armada was already there. A driver from Alize Charters met me at the little airport in St. Vincent; "We're still waiting for one couple....but it does not look like anyone else who just arrived is looking for either me or Alize Charters....so off we'll go.....we'll be at the welcoming cookout in fifteen minutes."Roland was part-owner of Alize Charters, he was very cordial and warm but definitely wanted to make sure that I was comfortable and somewhat knowledgeable about sailing; it was a pre-requisite. We would never have to dock the boats; each night we would moor off beaches. If bad weather ever loomed a "captain" from the charter company would be put onboard immediately via one of the motored launches. "If we see you're having problems we'll come right aboard to help you....but this time of year the Alize Tradewinds are soft and gentle and usually very friendly. Just make sure you give fishermen plenty of room as well as the other boats sailing with you. It appears as if you'll only have one other person on the Alize Four with you....a wonderful woman who's a very astute sailor from your Southern California."I felt like it was my first day at a new Elementary School when Roland introduced me to the rest of the group; I was the only one still wearing shoes....I truly felt like a fish-out-of-water. My captain and/or mate extended her hand almost immediately, "Hi....welcome!" Neither one of us was "hard to look at," put this woman was definitely a more attractive woman than I was a man; I felt very fortunate. She was obviously already "adopted" by the rest of the group....and within minutes I sensed that she may very well have been catapulted to the rank of "Flotilla Admiral." She had lots of hair held onto the top of her head with a large silver barrette. Her halter top with a single tie in the back was draped with necklaces, and combined with her ankle length broomstick skirt made her look like she was bred and born on a beach. Probably twenty or more silver bangle bracelets jingled as we shook hands. "Take off those shoes and socks!" she dictated with a smile; and then as the group laughed in the background another woman shouted "Be careful there Captain....he looks shy...be gentle when you tell him to take off anything else after we set sail tomorrow!"The four boats; the Alize One, Two, Three and Four, sat gently on their moorings the next morning when I came topside from my little cabin; the dinghies sat almost still tethered off the sterns. The charter company's dock resembled a quaint caf? complete with tables, flowers, benches, coffee, lots of fruit and freshly baked muffins. Two couples were laughing hysterically as they playfully rowed their dinghies over to breakfast and our morning briefing. "My Captain" was now wearing a very attractive and sexy two-piece swimsuit; she challenged me to make the short swim with her to breakfast. We seemed to get along very well; both of us had a sense of humor; and both of us wanted this to be a great vacation. It was Roland who asked us for the results of our "homework" assignment from the night before; each boat had to have a "nickname." I'm certain that he had heard all of these before; three of the crews this morning announced "Barebuns," "Fly Away Tops" and "Nude Slooper." The fact that the rest of the boats had couples who already knew each other put a little bit of pressure on the two of us, so my captain said "Well hell....we were thinking of Getaway...but we're not going to be outdone by any of those names....how about if we're Pissin' in the Wind?" After a laugh and a group cheer....we all went back to our boats. Roland and a couple of other folks from the charter company made certain that we were all steered into the right direction and ready to set-sail. By ten o'clock "Pissin' in the Wind" was bound for an island that now was just off in the horizon with my boat-mate for the week at the helm.The charter company's skiffs kept a safe but yet remote distance from us as did all the three other sailboats. Within an hour two of the boats had bikini tops flying off their mainsails. "I hope this is going to work for you.....because I'm stripping," my captain announced, "I'm dammed well going to get a great tan all over...and let the wind touch me everywhere." I followed suit; which is to say my suit followed hers as it was tied onto an aft handrail. It just seemed so natural and normal to be sailing naked; nobody but nobody commits to a week of sailing in the Caribbean without thinking that they're not going to do most of it nude....even if it's with strangers. Oddly enough dropping our swimsuits allowed for everything to be a lot more open, including our conversation. By early afternoon we had been free enough to tell each other everything about each of us that the other one was inclined to want to know ...and the only time we even so much at hinted at sex was when she told me that "they said that there were a pair of binoculars in a cockpit cubby." We both snickered.By four or five or maybe it was closer to three o'clock all the boats were making their way into the island where we would anchor for the night. We moored about fifty to seventy-five yards from each other; three skiffs were already on the beach setting up for late afternoon cocktails and our evening cookout. We swam and snorkeled for a while and then laid out on the deck; my captain fell asleep once she had rolled over onto her stomach. I just looked at the curves of her back and legs as I had a beer. I felt both good and somewhat embarrassed that I was occasionally just gawking at her figure; and the memory of seeing her naked body underwater through my swim mask had already left a indelible lifetime image in my mind. I quietly stretched a bath sheet sized towel over her....I hoped that she appreciated that. Soon there was smoke visible on the beach; all of a sudden my primary animal instinct became "Dinner!" After we both took a shot at taking an onboard shower, we set out on the maiden voyage of our dinghy as soon as we saw everyone (now dressed as well) starting to make their way to shore. Our first day had been wonderful; and there was not one of us who was not ready to go to sleep by dark...we were all bushed. Everyone was back onboard their sailboats and seemingly asleep before it was even totally dark. Lucky for us we realized that we had plenty of room to sleep topsides; my captain made use of what turned out to be a full sized bed within our infamous "cockpit;" and I slept very comfortably in a hammock suspended off the mast and a railing atop the bowsprit.I was awake just as the sun had started to peep up over the horizon. I was aroused beyond words; a steady stream of semen baited me to just let myself let go.....but I didn't; being caught could ruin the trust and respect that my boat-mate and I had lucky enough to start. A launch with thermoses of coffee, tea and more fruit and muffins helped me get my mind off sex as it quietly made it's way to each sailboat to help us greet the morning. Today was a beach day, and that afternoon a boat would be here to take whoever wanted to go for some scuba diving. As I looked over from boat to boat I counted nine of fourteen sailors awake and on deck; and the score was Tops 0 and Topfree 9. By the time the morning sun had extended itself as high as it wanted to be for that time of day the score had changed to Tops 0 and Topfree 14. I almost felt socially deviant as my thoughts continually circled around sex....this display of uninhibited freedom was just so appropriate and natural. By mid-morning our private beach was speckled with some sunbathers from a nearby resort, and they followed our flotilla's lead at enjoying a topless day in the sun. Our group split into four segments after lunch; a couple of people just stayed onboard their boats, a group opted to just go lay on the beach, another group took a little hike around the island, and I went with three others for some scuba diving. My captain opted to be a "relaxee" on the beach.Our scuba party returned to the boats about three hours later; and probably after the rest of our sailors had joined in to become the now almost totally-naked group on the beach who had obviously had a chance to share at least two cases or more of beer. The four of us who had gone scuba diving felt like altar boys compared to this wild tribe onshore. They sported everything from what appeared to be lipstick bodypaint to seashell and palm-leaf bathing suits. In a very benevolent, fun, but yet somewhat arousing "ceremony" the four of us scuba divers were all asked to allow the "beach tribe" to undress us after we had a beer or two. I had my hands held behind me as my beloved ringleader captain used Revlon "Firenight" lipstick to make my nipples appear as targets by drawing deep red circles around them. My bathing trunks were then lowered down as I had a lopsided butterfly drawn on my lower abdomen. The "tribe" took great delight when all three of the guys from the scuba group appeared to have a hint of "love juice" shining on the tips of our penises. I should have been but wasn't embarrassed as I had one long drip of semen stretch down nearly to my knee before it dropped into the sand. The woman from the scuba party had it worse....she had a mix of soft wet sand and clay rubbed onto her breasts as well as at the top of her genitals by two other women as she stood blindfolded in front of the "tribe." She emitted a very distinct sigh of excitement as the mixture was rubbed on with very firm circular motions. As the skiffs appeared with the makings for that nights beach party we all went into the water to rinse sand, lipstick, clay, and some of the excitement off of ourselves; the end of day two had truly bordered on sheer pagan decadence. We were so much more civilized and even fully clothed at dinner, although some of the tops worn by the women appeared to be getting looser with an occasional nipple making an appearance whenever they reached down to get another skewer off the grill. True to form; the sun (and the beer) had taken it's toll once again at the end of this second day; all our dinghies were back and tethered off the boats and our bodies were bunked as soon as it was dark.Day three was a sailing day; we'd make our way to a new island that would allow all of us to have an excursion into a little town as well as have the chance to take showers and have dinner at a resort. The showers were heavenly; it felt great to be really squeaky-clean for the first time since our sailing had began. As we ate dinner our boats were had our fresh water tanks topped off and our waste and trash removed.. On that fourth morning there was a beautiful seventy or eighty foot black hulled, three-masted schooner making her way through the wide channel as all of us were; "Spice of Life - Curacao NA" All our eyes were drawn to her decks as crew members readied to hoist the sails. Two women on "Spice" parked themselves on top of a forward cabin after they stripped off their shirts and shorts. Our entire flotilla returned the courtesy and quickly stripped as well. We all waved; and then the two women from the "Spice of Life" opened their legs and began to touch themselves. The two couples on our "Nude Slooper," which was about fifty yards in front of us, followed suit and exchanged the opportunity to have those aboard the "Spice of Life" watch them...as well as us. My captain and I were quiet however not speechless; my only statement was an erection. "Let me watch you touch yourself once we get out of the channel," my captain requested, "and then I'd like for you to watch me as well."As we moved into the open water that morning the tri-masted schooner went south, our four-boat armada headed east with our targeted island for that day once again just a tiny dot on the horizon. My captain and I openly enjoyed sharing ourselves with each other several times that morning; we agreed that asking each other to either watch or be-watched for the balance of our vacation would be both acceptable as well as make what had become a very memorable holiday even that much more "stress-free." It's as if the big black "Spice of Life" had been a pirate ship that gave us a treasure rather than take anything from us. We wondered if maybe some new doors had been opened for everyone in all the boats for the balance of the trip...but that would be something that we'd only find out in the final three days of our holiday....and something that you'd have to find out once there's time for Chapter 2 of "The Alize Tradewinds" to come about.___________________[sig]Outdoors Westerner[/sig]