Comfortably Numb Adventures: The Windsurfer – Part 1 - Sex Stories

Comfortably Numb Adventures: The Windsurfer – Part 1

Comfortably Numb is a French-built 44’ aluminum sailboat that serves as my retirement home. I had her built as a (late) mid-life crisis and moved aboard when I stopped working. My wife decided that my reversion to what she viewed as a teenage mentality and the relative primitiveness of boat life were inconsistent with her lifestyle and she found herself a rich banker. I sail the boat mostly in the eastern Aegean Sea, hopping between Greek islands with an occasional foray into Turkey. Previous stories detail my biography, so I won’t bore you with details. It was early September and I had visited some friends who had bought a lovely house in the old section of Rhodes town. I’m generally centered in the Leros area, an island about 100 miles north of Rhodes. The joy of the Aegean is that you’re never far from the next island. I had gone from Rhodes to Nissiros, an island with an active volcano, in a few day-hops. My next stop would be an anchorage on the southwestern side of Kos. It’s a large bay called Kamarai and is known to be a windy place as the north wind accelerates over the mountain ridge running east-west that is Kos, and comes down hard on the back of the island. While it may be windy, when you anchor a hundred meters from the beach in sand, there are no waves and the bottom is ‘Velcro’; the anchor never drags. Going north in the Aegean usually means going dead into the wind and a sailboat requires at least a 45 degree angle to the wind to move. So you can either ...

... zig-zag, called tacking, or you can motor. I stopped being a purist long ago and when I can’t sail I generally turn on the motor. Especially when I’m alone, which is most of the time. By the time I was three miles from my anchorage, the wind was blowing twenty-five knots, spray was flying over almost the whole length of the boat and I was hiding under the dodger. The sea was mostly white and I was the only fool out there. Unlike macho sailors, I don’t enjoy big winds or big seas. Bragging rights “...the seas were four meters and the wind hit fifty knots, I was surfing at ten knots...” is blah-blah to me. I like bobbing at anchor in warm, clear water off a sandy beach, having a sundowner with an intimate friend best. None of those conditions looked likely at this point. I scanned the horizon for obstructions or traffic and I spotted what looked like flotsam about a half mile ahead of me. Sometimes the wind blows good stuff off the beach. A kayak would be a nice addition to my toy collection. I grabbed the binoculars. It looked like a windsurfing board. Probably a rental, this bay was a windsurfer’s mecca. I would return it to it’s owner if it was marked. I changed course a bit to point to the board. As I got closer, I saw that it wasn’t just a board, but that there was a person holding onto it waving at me. Someone who undoubtedly wasn’t good at it, and got picked up by the wind as it increased away from the beach. I slowed the boat down and positioned it so that the surfer was at ...