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DAY TWO – Calabash, NC

Nick was up early the next morning.  He made coffee and forced himself to eat some cereal.  He made a couple of sandwiches and put them in a small cooler with some bottles of water.  He knew that once he was underway, he wouldn’t want to stop.  He coated his face and arms in sunscreen and pulled on his hat, a baseball cap with the logo of the Boston Red Sox.  Nick wore it backwards so the brim would give his neck further protection from the sun.

Nick checked all his charts and made some notes to himself.  He had a distance of nearly 900 miles to travel in the next two weeks.  That averaged out to about 65 miles a day.  That wasn’t that difficult a run.  Some parts of the waterway would be pretty slow going, but he could always make up time by heading out to the ocean and letting the engines rip.  With a maximum speed of 35 knots, it wouldn’t take long to make up the distance.

And besides, Nick told himself, he wasn’t in the same position as Pete.  He didn’t have to be anywhere on time…at least not with the boat.  If he got slowed down for some reason, he’d just call Bernie, tell him to get someone to finish the journey for him and then hop on a plane.  Pete had to be in Charleston tonight to pick up Mickey.  Nick didn’t have to be anywhere.

Nick looked at his charts again.  Charleston Harbor was about 100 miles away.  Maybe Nick would set his sights on that for today.  It would give him a chance to meet Mickey. 

A knock on the side of the boat told him that the marina dock boy had arrived exactly on time to help Nick get underway.

Nick rinsed his coffee mug out and set it in the sink.  He took his lunch and his charts and headed topside.  He glanced around the back deck, making sure there was nothing that would get loose or roll around.  Then he climbed the ladder to the top level, the captain’s area.  There was a comfortable leather chair for the driver and a long padded bench along the side for any passengers, co-pilots, backseat drivers or whatever.

Nick waved down to the dock boy and started the engines.  The boy unhooked the mooring lines and pushed on the front of the boat.  Nick put the engines in reverse and carefully backed the boat out of the slip and into the canal.  Then he threaded his way carefully up the canal into the harbor. 

When Nick passed the Sunset Voyager, he saw Pete on the deck with a coffee mug in his hand.  Pete smiled and waved.  Nick waved back.  He didn’t see Jordana anywhere.  As if reading Nick’s mind, Pete closed his eyes and tilted his head, mimicking sleep.  Then he opened his eyes and rolled them, shaking his head.

Nick laughed and waved again.  Then he pushed the throttle forward slightly and made his way out into the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway or the ICW.  The Waterway extends nearly 1200 miles from Norfolk, Virginia to Key West, Florida.  For much of the way, the channel passes between the mainland and barrier islands, so it is only a short distance from the Atlantic Ocean.  The difference in the boating conditions, however, is great.  The Waterway is much more protected from the wind, and the currents are much lighter.  

There are harbors and marinas all along the route.  Nick knew he would pass some fabulous natural scenery and some palatial mansions as well.  Along the upper part of the waterway, the Carolinas and Georgia, he’d pass some pretty remote locales where the scenery and wildlife would be incredible to see.  The Florida section is more heavily populated, and that’s where Nick knew he would see the man-made marvels.

When he traveled alone, Nick was very cautious about leaving the cockpit area of the boat.  Even on open water with no other boat or land in sight, it was an incredibly foolish act to leave the boat running while you left to take a quick leak or get yourself a drink.  But who wanted to turn off the boat and drop anchor every time you were putting liquid into yourself or taking it out?

Nick kept plenty of bottled water handy in the cockpit, and when he needed to relieve himself, he looked carefully around him to make sure he was alone and that there were no buildings on either side of the Waterway.  Then he slowed the boat down and peed into an empty water bottle. When he was ready to get gas or stop for the day, he stopped the boat in the channel and emptied the bottle over the back of the boat into the water.

He knew he was taking a risk.  God knows what the fallout would be if he were caught.  Nick wasn’t worried about pictures of his private parts getting out there.  There were already plenty of those shots.  It was just that what he was doing was tacky, and he knew it.  Still, he considered it more discreet than just whipping his dick out and hanging it over the side of the boat.

Nick made good time the first day.  Charleston seemed like a better and better idea as the day wore on.  It put a lot of miles between him and his starting point and gave him a sense of accomplishment.

Nick spent the day alone.  Finally.  It was just him and the water.  There was early traffic congestion around Myrtle Beach, but that didn’t surprise Nick.  He was expecting it.  He had no intention of pulling into the crowded tourist area.  No one but his close associates and family knew that he was doing this boat trip…and now Pete and Jordana…and Nick didn’t want anyone to know.  The  fans loved to play the game of Nick-spotting, and he didn’t want to have his ‘game face’ on for the whole trip.  If he wanted to frown or cry or howl at the moon, he wanted to be able to do it in private.

Nick didn’t want to do any of those things…at least, not yet.  He just wanted to be alone.

This was something new in his life.  It made the people around him a little nervous.  Nick had never liked to be alone before.  He was always looking for company, for a party… He seemed to feel that being alone was the same as being lonely.  The big Paris Hilton Spotlight had changed all that for him.  Getting ambushed by reporters every minute of the day was unnerving.  He couldn’t get away from them. 

Nick started hibernating.  He holed up in his home and communicated with the outside world by telephone.  Gradually, he even stopped doing that.  He found he liked being alone.  He sorted out his emotional state and his professional one.  He gave himself a long, hard look and came up with a list of resolutions.

Eventually, the process of recording and releasing an album pulled him back out into the public eye.  But this time, he was prepared for it.  He had his brothers with him, and he was set to take on the world. The small up-close-and-personal tour made him ready for anything.  It was great getting back out there with the fans and performing with the fellas again.  It wouldn’t be long before they’d be going at it full-tilt with the summer tour.  That would be great, Nick knew, but before that, he wanted some alone time.

Nick maneuvered the Lenore down the Waterway, waving at boats going in the other direction.  There weren’t many.  It was still pretty early in the season.  Right now, it was mostly seniors, retired people who could afford both the time and money to meander up and down the seaboard. Later on, when school was out, there would be more families, who would rent a boat for a couple of weeks and cover part of the course.  Few people traveled the Waterway from one end to the other. 

Nick watched his charts carefully, checking for shoals and other water hazards.  Bridges wouldn’t be much of a problem.  His boat wasn’t that tall.  He also kept an eye on the weather.  Around noon, the sky started to cloud over.  Nick steered the boat into Winyah Bay and pulled into the marina at Georgetown.  He stayed away from the commercial port with its heavy traffic of ocean-going cargo vessels.  At the marina, he perused the brochures in the manager’s office but decided he wasn’t in the mood for art galleries and small shops, no matter how charming they might be.

He thought about going up to the boardwalk to get some lunch, but it started to rain lightly, so he just stayed on the boat.  He ate his sandwiches and wandered through the boat, opening all the cupboards again and learning his way around.  He finished hanging up all his clothes and then kicked back with a video game.

After an hour or so, the rain stopped, and Nick set out again.  Thirty miles south of Georgetown, he turned the Lenore into the Awendaw Creek and followed it up around a long curve into the Cape Romain National Wildlife Refuge.  He dropped anchor and waited.  Around him, Nick could see birds of many different varieties. 

Soon, a curious dolphin came up to the boat, and moments later, a second one arrived.  Nick kept very still and watched as the dolphins played around the boat.  After half an hour, they moved away.  Nick waited until they were well away from the boat before he started it and moved back out onto the Waterway.

Nick didn’t know exactly where Pete was going to stop for the night in Charleston.  Nick thought it was kind of funny how much he wanted to hook up with them again…at least with Pete.  Jordana was a bit of a downer.  Maybe when Mickey arrived, Jo would pick up a little energy.  Nick thought that would work out okay…then it would be two guys and two girls.  Pete could have a little guy time with Nick, and the girls could do whatever they wanted.  Nick figured his alone time on the boat during the day would be more than enough for him.

Nick checked his book of Coastal Marinas and went over the choices for Charleston Harbor.  There were about six that seemed to fit their needs.  Nick mulled over the possibilities and then settled on the Isle of Palms Marina.  It was less expensive than some of the others.  Nick thought Pete would like that.  It offered marine supplies, a general store and laundry facilities.  Nick knew that none of them needed any of that after only one day out.  There was a restaurant, the Morgan Creek Grill, on the premises and the promise of more nearby.  The thing that convinced Nick that this might be the marina of choice for Pete was the service of an airport shuttle.  Pete had said Mickey was flying in to meet up with them.

Nick pulled into the marina.  He looked carefully at the boats as he passed but did not see the Sunset Voyager.  Perhaps it was still behind him.  He had started out earlier than the others, and maybe they had made stops as he had.  He hoped so.  He hoped they would arrive at this marina.

Nick docked the boat and made his way to the office.  Behind the counter stood a woman with leathery skin and of indeterminate age.  She was reading a newspaper.  Nick waited patiently for her to look up, and then he asked for an overnight docking.

The woman looked him over and then pulled out a lengthy check-in form.  It seemed to Nick that some of Carl Henry’s red tape had made its way to the marina level.  Nick cheerfully recounted his name, the boat name and number, his home address in Florida and his phone number there.  He showed photo identification and handed over the fee.

The woman tore the top copy off the booking form and handed it to Nick.  She rang up the sale on the cash register.  “You’re lucky, you know,” said the woman, as she handed Nick his change.  “We don’t always have an open berth by this time of day.  You’d do better to have made a reservation.  You should think about that next time, especially as we get into the high season.”

“Sure,” said Nick with a smile.  He had no intention of ever being in this marina again, but he had been taught to be polite.  “Thanks,” he said, turning for the door. 

He stopped and then turned back.  “You know,” he said to the clerk, “I have a friend who’s also traveling the Waterway.  Could I make a reservation for him just in case he comes in here?  He might, or he might not.”

The clerk frowned.  Didn’t this young man understand the concept of a reservation?  She looked at her watch.  “Well, it’s getting kinda late in the day, and we still have a couple of openings, so I guess it couldn’t hurt.  But if he’s not here by the time I need one of those, he’s out of luck.”

Nick nodded.  He understood.

“What’s his name?” said the woman, with a sigh, pulling out a battered school notebook.  She poked around among the items on the desk looking for a pencil.

“Pete,” said Nick.  He closed his eyes trying to bring back the scene of Pete introducing himself.  What was his last name?  Nick thought it started with a ‘c’.  Crowther?  Crawford?

“Crofton?” asked the woman.

Nick opened his eyes.  “Yeah, that’s right.  Peter Crofton.”

The woman closed the book.  “He’s already got a reservation,” she said.

“Oh,” said Nick.  “That’s great.”  He was pleased.  That meant he’d chosen the right marina.  He guessed Pete had the same book on marinas as Nick did and had called ahead today.

“Yep, he’s had it for over a month,” added the woman.  “I guess he’s someone who likes to plan a trip well.”

The inference that he was somewhat less worthy than Pete because of his lack of foresight was not lost on Nick, but he didn’t care.  He was going to have company this evening.  Pete and Jordana would be arriving soon, and after that, the hardworking Mickey.