130
Mitchell spit his toothpaste into the river and then shaded his eyes with a forearm to watch a launch ferry a young couple from one of the sailboats in the mooring field to the dock of a yacht club on the riverside. He pulled on his hat. From below Andy heaved Mitchell’s seabag onto the cockpit sole then climbed up. "On the chart it looks like there’s some kind of a dock upriver before the first bridge," he said.
"Let’s find out about that launch. It’ll save us moving the boat."
Andy found the launch. "That’s for members."
"You look like membership quality. Give me a tee shirt."
When the launch made another run Mitchell waved the shirt and the helmsman steered for the sloop. Andy lifted the wheelchair into the cockpit and climbed up behind it as the young helmsman steered the launch alongside. He was blonde and tan with a cheerful fraternal look. His college tee shirt was tucked into pleated khaki shorts. He reached for the sloop’s rail. "Hi. How are you doing?"
"Fine. Beautiful day," Mitchell grinned. "Listen, I use a wheelchair and I need to get ashore. Can you give us a lift?"
"I don’t know. Are you a member?" The helmsman looked them over.
"Not yet. We got in last night. We’re visiting friends on the Island Lady."
"I’m not a member myself," the helmsman confessed. "I only work here part time in the summer. Give the club a call on the VHF. If they say it’s okay, I’ll come get you."
"What name do I use to hail them?"
"New Castle Yacht Club. Good luck." The helmsman pushed off and throttled the launch to motor upriver. Andy climbed below and turned on the radio. He passed up the handset and Mitchell hailed the club.
"New Castle Yacht Club to sloop," a relaxed male voice crackled through the receiver. "What can we do for you?"
Mitchell squeezed the mike again. "I use a wheelchair and we’d like permission to use your launch service. We’re friends of the Island Lady."
"Are you a club member?"
"Not yet. I’m certainly thinking about it, but it depends on the launch service."
Andy shook his head. The club transmitter switched on with laughter in the background. "We’ll help you out," the voice said. "It’ll be about twenty minutes."
Andy slid the companionway covers down and closed the hatch and when the launch motored out he dropped the port lifeline and tied the launch fast alongside, straining the lines tight into the cleats. He took a deep breath and lifted Mitchell and the young helmsman hurried from the launch to reach around Mitchell’s back and under his legs. Mitchell swung his left arm around the helmsman’s neck as Andy shifted their combined weight sideways over both rails to lower Mitchell onto the bench in the launch.
"You guys do this a lot?" the helmsman asked.
Andy passed over the seabag and the seat cushion then transferred the wheelchair. He fastened the lifeline and climbed down into the launch and the helmsman motored them to a weathered but well kept dock on the riverside below the yacht club where two men were waiting. One tall and lean, like a plainsman. The other was rotund and balding, his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Everyone here looks so damned comfortable, Mitchell thought. Alongside the dock the helmsman cut the engine and the two men tended the docking lines. The taller man laughed a little as he stepped with one foot into the launch. "How are you making out?"