The oppressive sadness and anger lifts a bit. Linda really does stop bitching about Vern. She really does stop insulting him and dredging up the past. She rarely screams at him.
Vern, I can just ignore. It's not like you're expected to chat with the man. He can't hear anything other than a full shout. I realize now I will not be sailing. I mean, I will not be actively taking part in sailing the boat. I will just sit below for an hour until he calls me on deck to hold a part of a line for five minutes while he ties a bowline.
We go snorkeling, Linda and I.
AT.
LAST.
At last I am really in St. Lucia. I am snorkling past things I have never seen. I am next to the famous Piton mountains. They are monumental. They are skinny triangles that slice straight down into the sea.
Under the water are canyons. I have never seen this underwater before. There are worlds. There are occasional colorful fish, sea urchins, coral, bright sponges. We snorkel a long, long way; pehaps a couple of miles, around rocks and islands. Linda is a bit overweight, slow on her feet, but in the water she is a strong swimmer and has no fear, so I have no fear.
I come back cleansed.
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