Both girls were eighteen. That made it even worse.The sudden clanging of the ship's bell was followed minutes later by movement that indicated the ship was underway. The North Sea was unusually quiet, so we heard. But, unfortunately, the Channel wasn't. Most of that passage was spent in rough seas and the other two women were seasick most of that time. For some reason, I escaped that particular malady.However, it only required one visit from a sailor for me to learn to pretend to be sick whenever there was a knock on the door. I had the hammock on the opposite side of the room from the cabin door, up against the side of the ship. That saved me the first time. In the wee hours of that first night at sea, one of those sailors came in the door and grabbed Ruth in the first hammock by her breasts. His reward was Ruth's supper vomited all over his face and chest. That ended the male attention for as long as the seasickness lasted.Once we exited the Channel and sailed down the coast of. The cobblestone walk was lined with well-maintained trees and gardens. The area was higher than the surrounding houses but it was quiet except for the sound of the surf and the beachgoers.The inside was an updated version of Liz’s Nashville home. It had high ceilings and hardwood floors. The first room we visited had a magnificent view of the Pacific.“It’s actually a rare property that’s surrounded on three sides by water,” the woman explained. “The only rooms that don’t have an ocean view are those on the street side.”“What’s that?” I asked, removing my hand from Liz’s grasp and pointing to an area to the right.“That’s the private beach I mentioned,” the woman said. I moved farther out and took a good look.“That’s pretty cool,” I said. The area was situated slightly above the public beach and was walled off to keep the public from visiting. But it was a small, private beach a few dozen feet behind and above the public beach. It wasn’t large but the four loungers stationed there fit.
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