As Lily Orwell was navigating her sail through the rough waters of St George's Channel - between New Britain and New Ireland in the Bismarck Archipelago, she recounted the famous words uttered by – Dr. Samuel Johnson, "When a man comes to like a sea life, he is not fit to live on land."
That is exactly how her life had transpired for the last five years ever since she discovered her love for sailing while embarking on a leisure voyage on the beautiful Lake Windermere.
She was pretty satisfied with the sail twist she had incorporated in the design of the sail, where the head of the sail was set at a different angle of attack from the foot of the sail in order to change the lift distribution with height. Her boat was traveling perpendicular to the wind and the wind shear was lighting the boat on to the right direction.
As she neared the land, she could see her colleagues waving, awaiting her arrival. Lily Orwell adjusted the movable ballast and moved it in the direction of the land.
She soon disembarked and was congratulated by all and sundry. After all, she was the first woman to sail St. George’s channel solo, in the world. All twenty three years old.
Accepting the felicitations and after removing herself from the horde of reporters. She briskly moved away. She had to reach home and study for her next university exams.
She dreamt of crossing the Drake Passage solo on a boat. The Drake Passage is the treacherous stretch of ocean between the southern tip of South America (at Cape Horn) and the northernmost reaches of Antarctica. There, the otherwise unimpeded waves of the vast Southern Ocean squeeze through the relatively narrow and shallow bottleneck of the Drake Passage, and in the process, generate complicated, unpredictable and often brutal weather.
Her dream entailed controlling those waves. She wanted her supreme authority on the frigid passage. That was her obsession and her first true love.
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“Good afternoon, Mr. Bell,” his thirty year old secretary Agnes chimed. She was a pretty woman, with soft brown eyes and wide shoulders.
“Good afternoon, Agnes,” George Bell nodded.
“I guess congratulations are in order,” Agnes shook his hand and handed him the report she had been working on.
George Bell was a highly successful entrepreneur. He had started his company on real estate right after getting out of Harvard University. Business was his passion. George Bell was twenty-five year old, over six feet tall with a wiry body clothed by a nice white shirt and black flannel pants. A large mustache was the exact shade of his well groomed hair. He was ruggedly handsome and his features were masculine. He was a man who was at home in the wild country as well as comforts of city life.
He had recently clenched a magnanimous deal and was truly proud of it.
George Bell with new enthusiasm went into his meeting. Afterwards, he had plans with his friend Isaac Cromwell who understood, supported and shared his zeal over his dream.
……………………….
“Hello! Georgie,” Isaac Cromwell greeted his long time friend, “I am really proud of your achievement.”
George looked at him and huffed, “The name is George and thank you.” They both walked together to the nearest restaurant and sat down to talk about George’s recent achievement.
While calling the waiter, Isaac looked at George and smiled, “So, when are you planning your assault on the dreaded Montenogary business deal?”
George looked at the menu and coolly replied, “I am still awaiting permission. The letter should be in my hand in another eight days.”
“Great! By the way that was some achievement today.” Isaac asked inquisitively while placing their orders.
“I was lucky, it all seemed to be in sync."
“Honed up your swimming skills?” Isaac asked.
“Swimming skills?”George conceded.
Taking a bite, “Yes, Heard of Lily Orwell? She is planning to swim across the English channel in a week, I am hoping to join her and cheer her from the sidelines.”
“Why is she swimming across the English Channel?”
Wiping his hands and gesturing the waiter for the bill, Isaac replied, “Something related to her dream. Dinner tomorrow with the Orwells, they have two beautiful daughters and you are coming along with me.”
“Me? Why?” George asked curiously while placing some notes on the table.
“I bragged about your latest achievement and Mr. Orwell is excited to meet you.”
“Hmm.” George was not sure how to phrase his declination.
“No thinking. It’s high time you found yourself a lady and you never know tomorrow might be your lucky day,” Isaac said standing up.
“You know me. I don’t need a lady,” George chided happily.
“Yes! We’ll see about that tomorrow.”
George knew he had lost the argument and agreed to meet Isaac tomorrow at eight at the Orwells. He had already accepted the fact that he would never find a woman who would be passionate about him.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Her Second Love
Romance"Beautiful," he exclaimed while looking at her with eyes filled with pure adoration and love. He kissed her shoulders and slowly, gently bent down kissing her breasts one at a time, as she leaned her head back feeling his heated, delicious breath wh...
