Seal Sleek

Ruby exuded zest, keen for success, chasing Coral. In the spring of 1973, I recall her at a marina.

She emerges as a black rectangle, a yellow square and a blob of blue. The brunette and black, first. A black sheen, seal sleek, her wetsuit. The yellow her life jacket buckled and zipped, hiding her chest. Her cap, ocean blue, sported a yacht club monogram.

She readied her sabot for a championship race on the bay. Ruby invited Coral to see her sail whilst I attended because Arianna nagged till I agreed.

Coral and I walked along the jetty to the brunette's moored craft. The broad boards echoed our steady clomp as Ruby anchored her spread legs on her sabot, busy adjusting ropes. Her nifty craft, a single sail unfurled, bobbing in the marina like a wooden clog. 

Her dad named the sabot Tuesday after the Stones' Song, Ruby Tuesday.

The brunette completed a confident and deft final rope knot before her eyes sought Coral's. I admired her concentration as she left her girlfriend standing unoccupied. Ruby clambered from her sabot to the jetty and gave Coral the 'delish ' look-over. My bestie looked edible. A pleated skirt, coral pink, complete with a tummy bow. Whilst her blouse ruffled and glowed virgin white, the fashion starlet. Teal sandals and a matching headband completed her outfit.

Coral's gilded hair fanned behind the band as her freckles tangoed with the seaside sunlight. Ruby bantered, jubilant at Coral's appearance, using the situation to flirt.

"Aren't you pretty and all for me?"

Ruby adjusted her bulky life jacket.

"Today, I'll win for you, petal; you look so swell."

The brunette removed her cap and adjusted her hair. In the bay light, bundled, her hair's likeness to milk chocolate clarified.

She replaced her cap as her flirtation rolled.

"Love the bow; let me hitch it in a sailor's knot!"

Coral shook her head because her style was to impress Josh at the movies that evening.

Anyway, the day belonged to nature. The sea and sky of the bay reminded me of Marin's watercolours. Finally, an artist Ruby, Coral, and I could embrace. For me, it is the former architect's ability to catch nature comprehensively. Coral, I suspected, adoring his deft, refreshing arrangements. Ruby, I hunched, appreciative of how Marin combined sea, sky and watercraft.

The brunette deflected my enjoyment of the light and water.

She inquired, "So, you're not committed to Josh since you found girlfriend time?"

I surmised the minx sought to hit the dance floor with Coral as the yacht club organised a dinner dance after the regatta.

Ruby checked her watch, readying for the start line.

"Later, Josh is later," Coral responded, wearing her sunglasses.

Earlier, she held them in her hand.

The brunette's eyebrows narrowed before she recovered.

"Don't hide those gorgeous green eyes, sweetie."

As she said this, her eyes glanced to the next marina berth, the sabot behind hers.

Coral removed her sunnies.

My buddy laughed.

"Geez, the sun is behind you, Ruby. It gives you a halo. One you don't deserve. I bet your mum would like it! It's a sign from heaven."

Coral giggled.

Then she said, "You're destined to be a heavenly nun! Your momma would believe it!"

She replaced her sunglasses.

What followed intrigued us as Ruby paused, caught between baiting Coral and wanting to say something to a rival sailor. One of Ruby's competitors checked her gear on the next sabot, Seahorse, along the jetty.

I enjoyed Ruby's shuffle. The brunette positioned herself to deal with two fronts.

"Heaven is here, gorgeous, right before our eyes. No need to wait for it. Or wait for anything!"

Ruby waved her hand, indicating — 'get those sunnies off.'

She glanced at her large waterproof watch.

To impress Coral, she said, "Destiny, honey, is in your hands and mine, no one else's. Look and learn. I'll teach you."

She sidestepped us and approached her rival in their sabot. Ruby held a short, indistinct conversation before she waltzed back.

Coral raised her glasses, "Did you mislead her about the local conditions?"

"Never," said the brunette, her hand on her heart.

The placement looked silly because of the thickness of her life jacket.

"We talked about the wind on the bay, where it will be later."

The brunette adjusted her cumbersome life preserver. It suggested a heaviness unassociated with Ruby.

"Okay, I've got to get out there. Catch you later!"

She jumped onto her sabot, and the small craft rocked.

"Best of luck, sweetie," Coral trilled, her voice cordial.

Then, typical of the golden girl, she gave more, "Go race, my Hermia!"

— a fond flashback to their time together on a school theatre stage.

Then pushy Coral, "Commit yourself."

Ruby peered up, seeming less than five feet tall, yet she presented a commodore of her objectives on the water and with her girlfriend.

"I will, and you can track my opponents wallow, becalmed and cursing me! You can cheer, you uncommitted miss!"

Ruby untied her stern mooring.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Coral released high-pitched like a starter's horn.

The bow mooring untied, Ruby's sabot eased into deeper water.

We heard faint words, "You're not staying," and a backhand wave.

Coral and I followed Ruby's sabot tacking to the start line.

When Ruby reached the starting buoy, Coral turned to me.

"She gets me confused. I commit."

To reinforce her point, she anchored her hands on her hips.

"Not enough for her. She demands your direction be pointed at herself."

I volunteered this to my bestie as Ruby's sabot reacted to the starter's gun.

I gave Coral my complete attention as she removed her sunglasses and closed them on her lap.

As Ruby showcased her sailing class, she put on her sunglasses.

"Wow, the little vixen has talent," her voice smooth with admiration.

Coral and I watched the race while standing on the shoreline. We appreciated the brunette's tacking, gybing upwind or downwind, angling rounding buoys, and assessing opponents like a chess game. Ruby's Tuesday, number sixty-nine, caught the breeze and skimmed across the bay waves. Seahorse, her jetty rival, bobbed in the same spot. Ruby won her class trophy.

Coral and I waited in the yacht clubrooms as Ruby organised her boat on its trailer.

Also, to shed her wetsuit, as she later quipped, "Who would dance with a seal?"