It’s certainly been a long while since Mother and Father took the family on a cruise. They used to be yearly affairs, but with Father being so busy with work it’s been indefinitely postponed, so it would seem. Not that I mind. Work takes precedence over play, I say. It’s an attribute of mine that makes me far superior to my ten-year-old peers, who wish to spend all of their time in leisure. Quit unacceptable, really.
However…the state of the boat does cause me some concern. These things must be maintained, and this seems like the perfect little project to develop some business acumen. I’ll find the most efficient place for marine stainless steel welding and give the old thing a good seeing to, make it right as rain, good as new. That way, the next time we all go boating as a family, we shan’t have to go on a private boating cruise like a bunch of peasants. It’ll all be ship-shape from the get-go.
However…where to acquire something as industrial as stainless steel marine welding? I can’t simply ask Father. That would defeat the purpose of the entire exercise. None of my school chums will know a single thing about this enterprise…they are all of them dolts. I could search online, but Mother restricts my home internet time and I’m afraid I burned through all of it watching gaming streams online…I mean, um, I used it all to perform necessary research, on other things that required research.
Oh, and the other things? A boat requires more than simply marine welding. One must see to the bow rails and snapper racks, if we are to use it for fishing. Stainless steel snapper racks, not regular wooden ones, like peasants. I bet Timothy Cribbins uses wooden ones on his boat, but he is an asinine fool and I have no time for his trading card talk. He couldn’t busy himself with anything more important?
Revelry is not usually my…‘scene’, as it were. If I host a party, it’s usually to do with business partners or simply celebrating an achievement (of business), and thus attending a party for the sake of it being a party is unfamiliar to me. There comes a time, however, when one must simply let one’s hair down, so to speak. Or so I thought. My Father and the owner of the Extreme Expeditions company were good friends in their youth, odd since their business choices didn’t really overlap. I will admit, I spent some time in my childhood on board the Taylor-Thomas yacht, just as they sometimes came aboard mine, and thus when I heard my friend was having a get-together, I thought I’d pay a visit.
I wasn’t fooled for a second. Had Dirk asked, I could have recommended any number of Melbourne outboard motor services, even supplied one of my own. Whatever silly expedition he was on seemed to have done some damage to the family vessel, and so the power was out. Worse, it was not the cocktail affair that I was expecting, which leads me to wonder what I was expecting. I was clearly overdressed, especially compared to some of the scandalous young women with their dresses lingering up to inch above the knee. There were no champagne waiters, the music was obscenely modern and the whole place was lit by candles, as if it were taking place in the jungle.
The outboard motor issue became apparent when I realised we’d been in the harbour for two hours, though at that point I’d been lingering near the stern, alone with the most dignified drink I could find (a lemon and lime bitters, from a bottle). The boat was scuppered, though fortunately I was able to leave early while the revelry increased. I considered calling Dirk in the morning and recommending the finest outboard motor repairs Melbourne had to offer…though if I remember, he’s the type to sleep until noon anyway. We are clearly very different as businessmen. Also, as people.
-Percival Clancey III