Frontier - 1. FR Chapter 1

The time had come for me to claim my life back, to escape the hardship that I had had to endure for most of my life. I had been planning this, for what seemed like a life time, but had in reality been since I was reminded about the catamaran just over a year ago. Today was one of the rare days, that my father would not be home when I arrived back from school, which was the only time that I would be able to get away unchallenged.

I had already packed most of my clothing, and what belongings I owned, and stored them all away, hidden from my father’s grasp. For so long I had been confined to a strict life, with little chance of having a happy childhood. I remember as a young child, that my mother and father used to argue a lot at night when I was supposed to be asleep; then suddenly it all ended when my father announced one morning, that my mother had left us. I remember that I cried all of that day, that night and the following day; it was also the time that I last saw my grandfather, my mum’s father and only grandparent, alive.

I had no idea where they went. I was just told that they went away. I dared not challenge my father to find out more about where they went. That day, just nine years ago, not only took me away from a loving mother, but I was also no longer able to go on fishing trips with Gramps, the one thing that I looked forward to each weekend.

I was just 5-years old, when Gramps had bought a 135 - foot long catamaran, that had been partially damaged due to an electrical fire in the lower galley. Using the weekly fishing trip as a disguise, we would sail out of the harbour, and anchor in a small cove, were we would fish and also work on restoring the yacht.

For 2 years Gramps and I would work on the yacht for a few hours in the morning, and spend the afternoon fishing. In the evening Gramps would teach me everything about sailing. It was a wonderful life that came to a shattering stop so suddenly. The shock of losing my mother and grandfather made me forget all about the catamaran, which was very close to being completed.

It wasn’t until the day after my sixteenth birthday in April, that I was reminded of the catamaran yacht, when a new student in my year, came to me at lunch time.

“Hello. Are you Anton Hamilton? And is your grandfather – Marcus Harrington?” he asked me as he sat down. I looked up at the new boy, who I knew to be Simon Adamson.

“Yes, how did you know that?” I said shocked to hear my Gramps name being mentioned.

“My grandfather is Isaac Adamson. He and your grandfather have been best friends for most of their life.”

“Yes, I remember. I met him a few times. He even came fishing with us every few months. I miss Gramps so much. I wish I knew what happened to him and my mum,” I said as I fought away tears.

“My grandfather has been hoping to find you. He thinks something bad has happened to his friend, as they always kept in touch,” Simon said to me.

“Yes, when mum and gramps left I was taken out of the private school I was attending, and I have been going to government schools since, changing schools every two years, since I was 9-years old,” I replied.

“Anton, my grandfather wanted to find you, because he has been keeping some things safe for you, so they wouldn’t fall into your father’s hands. Do you remember the yacht that your grandfather was restoring? Well, apparently, he put your name down - you and him as joint owners of the catamaran,” Simon told to me with a smile. I was shocked and surprised.

“I can’t go to the catamaran. My dad says I have to be home on time each day, or I get punished, and on weekends I have to do all of my chores,” I said to Simon with my head down.

“You mean you are not allowed to do anything on your own or be with friends?’ Simon asked me. I nodded my head.

“Since Mum left, I have to be home on time, then start preparing dinner, and start cleaning the house. Dad is home from work just before I get home from school, and he watches me like a hawk,” I said to Simon.

“Well, my friend, I am going to make it my mission to help you to get free of this horrible man you call your father,” Simon said with a smile.

So, for the past year, Simon has been helping me to prepare for this day, I had been saving half of my lunch money that my dad gave me each week, and that $15 each week, that I saved, I gave to Simon for safe keeping. At lunch-time each school day, Simon and I would meet in the cafeteria, where we would discuss plans, which involved Mr Adamson senior, who would get Simon to pass on letters to me.

The first letter read:

My dear boy Anton,

How much it saddens me, to see you without your mother and gramps. I fear that the worst has happened to them. Your gramps is a longstanding dear friend of mine, and he asked me to make sure that you are looked after, if anything happened to him. The catamaran that he bought, and that you and he were working on, is in yours and his name, so it is yours to keep, and your father cannot take it away from you.

He has also put me as guardian of your trust, which your father has no idea of. I have completed what you and your gramps started, and the catamaran is almost ready to go, with just a new mainsail and jib to complete it. I will keep in touch via Simon, and I look forward to the time when we can go sailing again.

I had tears in my eyes by the time I had finished reading the letter, as I thought of my Mum and Gramps, but I was now determined to get away. A few weeks later, when the school bus broke down on the way home from school, I was an hour and twenty minutes late getting home, and no matter what I said to my dad to explain what happened, he would not listen.

I was severely punished, receiving the long thin cane across my back and backside, with just underwear and a singlet on, and I had to sleep on my stomach that night, because of the pain. Luckily it was a Friday afternoon, so I had the whole weekend to partially recover from the cane lashing that I received.

Then came the day that my dad had to attend his annual medical examination, a requirement of his work as a freight storeman, where he had to drive forklifts in and out of large refrigerated storerooms, from 5am till 2.30pm, each weekday. This day he would not be home till 5pm, which gave me one hour, to grab the last of my belongings and get out of the house for good. I was just three days away from turning 17 years old, and it also happened to be the last day of the school term, so we had a two-week autumn holiday break.

Instead of catching the bus home, Simon and I were picked up by Mr Adamson Senior, and he drove us to my home. The night before, I had quietly packed the last of my belongings, but leaving enough to see that my bedroom was a typical teenager’s bedroom - posters on the wall, trophies on the shelf, along with half a dozen novels, and my school books on the desk.

When I arrived home, Simon and I grabbed the last of my belongings and took them out to the car. Before getting in, I stopped and raced back inside, dashing into the lounge, where the only reminders of my mother remained draped over the corner display cabinet - Mum’s favourite woollen scarf that she nearly always wore, and a pair of woollen gloves, that matched the scarf. Once I had them in my hand, I raced out of the house. Slamming the front door shut, and not looking back, I climbed into the car beside Simon, and we drove off.

The plan was that the three of us would take the yacht up the coast, where my father would not be able to find me, if he found out about the catamaran, and we would stay there fishing and relaxing for the two-week holiday, with Mr Adamson senior as our responsible adult. I had not seen the catamaran in over nine years, so I was getting fidgety and nervous as we approached the small marina, where she was moored. Mr Adamson, had informed me that she had a brand, new coat of paint, and a new name.

When we arrived at the marina, I could see masts of a number of catamarans, so I was not sure which one was mine, as we carried two boxes or pieces of luggage each, and made our way down one of the walkways. Suddenly there was just one catamaran remaining, located near the end of the jetty, and she looked magnificent. The 135 foot long Blue Coast catamaran seemed a little smaller than what I remembered. Then I saw the name along the aft of her, reading Frontier, and I liked the name straight away.

As I stepped on board, everything came flooding back to me - the times that Gramps and I were working on renovating the catamaran, the fishing sessions, and all the lessons about what each part of the yacht, is called, whether it was big or small, and what its purpose was. The Frontier was not done to high specifications, as it was originally designed for, but instead it had basic but comfortable furnishings, with a blue and white theme.

I could see that everything was marine grade, so as to be able to handle the conditions of being at sea, and all furniture was fixed to the floor, for safety reasons.

“As owner, my grandfather placed you in the owner’s suite on the main deck. I have the double crew cabin, and grandfather has the forward starboard guest cabin,” Simon announced to me, as I stepped inside, to see the saloon, and galley area, and looked into the study, which had bookshelves on three sides, full of novels, CD’s and DVD’s.

Next, I looked into my cabin, which had a number of boxes and a suitcase placed on the floor, which I recognised to be mine. I took a look at the separate master en suite, which was spacious.

“I started to unpack your gear, but my grandfather suggested leaving it for you to do,” Simon said to me from the cabin doorway. I followed Simon out to the saloon.

“This is all wonderful Mr A. I don’t know how I can thank you, for all that you have done,” I said, as I approached Simon’s grandfather who was standing near the galley servery.

“I am just following your grandfather’s wishes, my boy. That is all,” he said to me with a smile. I headed down the port stairs to check out the galley store rooms and port bow guest cabin.

“Ok, now I suggest we get a move on, before your father discovers you missing,” Mr Adamson said as we returned to the saloon.

“May I take the helm please,” I asked. Mr A nodded yes, so I dashed up the stairs to the fly bridge, and fired up the engines.

Checking the gauges, I saw that both fuel tanks were full, and the engine was running smoothly. Down on the main deck, Mr A and Simon had untied the mooring ropes from the jetty. Very carefully I applied some throttle to the engines, and steadily eased away from the jetty. I headed out of the fishing boat harbour, towards open water.

Once we had cleared the end of the harbour, I shouted down to the main deck, “Hoist the mainsail.”

Soon the wind filled the sail, and we were picking up speed. I turned off the engines, to allow for the sails to take over.

Mr A appeared beside me, and watched as we turned north, heading up the coast, still inside the reef, which I knew would not last for too long, before we would have to go out into open waters to continue. Once I had successfully passed through a space in the reef, Mr A took over at the helm, and I went downstairs, where I found Simon making some salads in the galley.

“I didn’t know you could cook?” I said to him with a smile.

“I have Italian grandparents on my mum’s side of the family, so we are taught how to cook at a young age,” Simon replied.

“That’s good to hear. I cook too, but I’m not very good at it,” I replied, as I frowned, thinking of the many times that my father shouted and cursed at me for not cooking a decent meal.

“We are having barbequed lamb chops and a mixed salad tonight. My grandfather is a good cook too, especially when it comes to fish. My parents are away on business, so they can’t be tracked down, and I had mentioned at school that my grandfather was taking me and you on a camping trip to near Kalgoorlie, so that will be a good diversion, if your dad tries to get information from one of the teachers at school,” Simon said.

“I hope this all works, as I do not want to go back home ever again,” I stated, as I sat down and watched Simon preparing the meal. I glanced up at the walk clock, and noticed that it was already after 5pm.

As we sat down to eat at the dining table on the aft main deck, with the yacht anchored in a marina, 25 kilometres north of our departure point, on the northern edge of the city suburbs, we watched the sun setting over the western horizon, and for the first time in a very long time I felt relaxed and free.

“I think your dad will be spitting chips around about now,” Simon commented between mouthfuls of salad, which was very good, and I chuckled a little.

“Yes, it will be the first time in many years that he has not had dinner made for him, and he will be all alone,” I commented.

Just then Mr A frowned as he was looking at the scarf that I was wearing, the same one that my mum used to always wear.

“After dinner, I would like to have a closer look at that scarf if I may. Try not to touch it any more, as it may give us some clues about your mum,” Mr A said.

I was a little shocked at what he had said, and after dinner, using some gloves from the maintenance locker, Mr A removed it from around my neck. He took a long close look at it.

“I can see some hairs on this scarf that might be your mum’s. I’m going to have to borrow it, and send it to a friend in police forensics, to see if we can get some answers,” Mr A said to me, and I reluctantly agreed to letting him take it.

After dinner, Simon and I did the washing of dishes, and put everything away, before we settled down to watch a movie on the big screen television, while Mr A found a plastic shopping bag to put the scarf in, which he stored away for safe keeping, till he could send it for forensic testing. After the movie on the television had ended, I said goodnight to Simon and his grandfather, and made my way to my cabin, for my first free night, without fear of getting punished.

When I woke in the morning, I could hear the soft sound of the waves softly smacking against the side of the catamaran, and smiled as I yawned and stretched, before heading for a shower. Feeling refreshed and dressed in just board-shorts and tee-shirt, even though it was cool outside. I was on holidays so I didn’t care, as I made my way to the main saloon.

“Good morning, sunshine. Did you sleep well?” Simon said to me cheerfully, as he placed a plate of cooked breakfast on the table and indicated to me to sit. “Grandad and I have already eaten. We thought we would let you sleep in a little,” Simon said as he placed a glass of juice in front of me. I nearly choked, when I saw the time on the wall clock. It was nearly 9am, over two hours later than I am usually up, and Simon chuckled when he saw this and returned to the galley.

“Thanks for that. It’s the first time that I can remember, that I have been able to sleep in later than 7am,” I said with a smile as I continued to eat, while Simon kept busy tidying up the galley. “Grandad should be back soon. He went into town, to send that scarf to his friend in forensics in the city. Then we can continue on with our holiday,” Simon said cheerfully, as he finished cleaning up.

“So how far did we travel yesterday?” I asked not sure if it was about the same distance as it is by road.

“Grandad said it was 25 kilometres. We make around 12 kilometres per hour when the wind is good. He said he would like to do about 60 kilometres today, so it will be about 5 hours of sailing,” Simon said as he headed to the aft deck, to keep a look out for his grandfather.

I headed up to the fly bridge, where I noted that we had a good strong south westerly breeze and clear skies.

Less than half an hour later, Mr Adamson returned and he allowed me to take the helm to leave the marina, but he took over soon after, as there was a reef close to shore.

“When we head north, I want you to go into the study. There you will find charts of the west coast, and I want you to study them carefully. I’m starting to train you to become a skipper,” Mr Adamson said to me. I smiled at him.

“Yes, Sir. Right away, Skipper,” I said and I headed downstairs.

I spent the next two hours studying the charts of the west coast. I saw where there were reefs all along the coast, so I now understood why Mr Adamson had taken over at the helm from me, and in some way, I was glad that he had. When I heard Simon preparing lunch, I stopped and went in to help him, and when done, I took a plate up to the fly deck for Mr Adamson.

“Take the helm while I eat will you,” he said to me as he accepted the lunch plate from me. I looked ahead then down at the compass.