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quazartranslates · 3 years

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Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH11

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 11: Resurrection Overture (XI)

Unfortunately, Qi Leren could escape his “date” with the Illusionist, but he couldn’t escape his one with Chen Baiqi.　　

Since there was no specific time for the day's training, Qi Leren got up early the next morning. When he got up, he thought he would suffer from a sore back due to training too hard the previous day, but except for slightly sore thighs, his body had no symptoms of strain, which made Qi Leren feel incredible.　　

Was it because he’d been blessed by Maria’s holy light?　　

Clearly last night when he’d gone to Du Yue, he’d been as tired as a dead dog. Du Yue had received him warmly and easily agreed to sign the confidentiality contract. According to the contract agreement, he wouldn’t be able to reveal this secret to anyone, whether it was in writing or spoken or even from a mind control skill. As long as it was concerning these secrets, he couldn’t say anything and Qi Leren would also feel it if he did.　　

This was actually an unfair contract that had no benefit to Du Yue. Qi Leren wanted to compensate him with some survival time, but Du Yue didn't agree: "I can earn so many survival days because of the clues qianbei gave me. I’ve already made a lot of money, I dare not ask for your days as well. If there’s a chance in the future, please take me with you!"　　

Looking at Du Yue's earnest eyes, Qi Leren agreed without saying anything.　　

At six o'clock in the morning, Qi Leren arrived at Chen Baiqi's shop and tentatively knocked on the door.　　

The door opened and Chen Baiqi, who had already dressed neatly and washed her hair, looked at him with a smile: "That’s very positive. I thought you wouldn’t arrive till after seven o'clock."　　

Qi Leren said that if he really had come after seven o'clock, he wasn’t sure how he’d be treated by Chen Baiqi.　　

"I’m very pleased to see that you’re so motivated. You’ll report to me at this time every day in the future. You know the consequences of being late." Chen Baiqi's smile widened. In Qi Leren’s eyes, this was really a smile full of maliciousness. "As for breakfast, ask Sissi what she wants to eat and get me the same."　　

Sissi, who came out of the back room with a yawn, said sleepily, "Flatbread fitters, thank you."　　

Chen Baiqi had put an hourglass on the table and encouraged Qi Leren by saying, "Twenty minutes."　　

"It takes at least ten minutes to run from here to the market near the steel bridge!" cried Qi Leren.　　

Chen Baiqi glanced at the hourglass: "Nineteen minutes and fifty seconds. If you feel stressed, I can send a lovely dog to accompany you."　　

Accepting his fate, Qi Leren pushed open the door and started to run as if a three-headed hellhound was eyeing his chrysanthemum behind him—truly, this was the most terrible place.　　

Many years later, Qi Leren still remembered the dominating fear of buying breakfast. In a sense, this period of running for his life in the sunset was the worst time in his life. The shopkeepers in the bazaar remembered this wind-like man. He would rush to the booth with short messy hair right on time at about 6:10 every day to buy two breakfasts. If there were other people waiting in line, his bereavement and frequent glances at his watch would make people suspect that he was manic. The most dramatic time, when he was faced with a long queue, he had resolutely cut in line at the expense of paying for everyone else in the line and disappeared from everyone’s sight like an unscrupulous customer who ran out when faced with the bill.　　

—He runs faster than I did when I learned my wife was giving birth, a stall owner said.　　

—Once, he brought a three-headed hellhound to do his morning exercises and ran faster than usual, another vendor said.　　

—That boy is really handsome. If I’m slow at preparing cakes, he almost starts crying in his rush. It's very distressing, a middle-aged female vendor fondly said.　　

People in the market speculated on his origin, but for a long time no one knew who he was, so the "6:10 rush to buy breakfast" was also included in the top ten incredible sights in the Village of Dusk. It’s worth mentioning that a new addition was also added to this list recently—why are there so many tombstones for Qi Leren on Undead Island?　　

However, Qi Leren, who monopolized these two items on the list, had no idea about his "unexpected popularity" because recently he was living a life that was like death. Chen Baiqi happily told him that because Maria’s holy light had blessed him, his body was very "resistant to exercise" and could accept more intensive training. She used this as an excuse to arrange an inhuman training regimen for Qi Leren.　　

Twenty minutes of hard running in the morning was just an appetizer. It was common to practice shooting at the same time. Even swimming from the Village of Dusk’s port to Undead Island was included in the daily training. Before finishing training every day, there was another "love lesson" by Chen Baiqi, which translates to "teaching you how to be hit by various weapons". Even the day when you dislocated your right hand because of shooting practice, you were not spared.　　

At this time, Qi Leren realized that the training menu Ning Zhou had given him was too easy and that he was too gentle as a coach. Just look at the results of Chen Baiqi's devil training: Within a week, when Qi Leren was chased by the three-headed hellhound outdoors, he was able to climb onto the roof without changing color, climbing faster than a monkey. If Chen Baiqi hadn't forbidden him from doing anything to the dog, he would have jumped at the evil dog with a gun.　　

Yes, Qi Leren also learned to shoot, as taught by Chen Baiqi.　　

Before be taught, Chen Baiqi also asked him how much he knew about guns and which one he wanted to try.　　

Although he was a man, he wasn’t very interested in guns. He said, "I don't play shooter games very much. How about a Desert Eagle? I’ve heard those are very powerful."　　

Chen Baiqi rolled her eyes: "You really do know nothing about guns."　　

Chen Baiqi recommended a revolver similar to a Smith Wesson 625, which had a large caliber, six-chambers, and convenient loading that wasn’t easy to jam. It was said that it was made by a gun fan, and that it couldn't be mass-produced at present with the technological level of the Twilight Township. He earned a lot of survival days thanks to this skill.　　

Qi Leren took the strange gun and thought of the problem of the laptop transformer and charger. The craftsman who was still alive when he’d gone last time had been away on a task, and he may have come back now. He would go see about this after today’s training.　　

While training in the afternoon, Chen Baiqi had a whim to teach Qi Leren how to dive, or dive without any equipment to be exact, to exercise his breath-holding ability, compression resistance, and control of his heartbeat and breathing. Since his profession was that of an assassin, he couldn't do without a well-trained heart.　　

Qi Leren listened in anguish to the main points about diving, put on the headlamp, and looked at the endless sea.　　

"I advocate that every player who focuses on the assassin's route should learn to dive, because to be a good assassin he must learn to overcome his nervousness and fear. There’s no training that can train a person better than jumping into the sea alone to challenge your own limits. As you dive deeper and deeper, the light will decrease. In the end, only your own heartbeat will be left in the dark world. It will seem like your soul has escaped from your body and roamed in endless darkness. You will be isolated and helpless. Nothing can save you. You have to learn to rely on yourself. The water pressure in all directions will become stronger and stronger, but the oxygen in your lungs will become less and less, and death will become closer and closer to you, and you won't even know what depth you’re diving to. You will feel fear, more and more fear, and fear will make your heart beat faster, oxygen consumption will increase dramatically, and you will die faster if you cannot overcome this fear." Chen Baiqi looked at Qi Leren, who was shivering in the wind, and smiled happily.　　

"This area isn’t deep. You’ll go down and touch a shell. It’s very simple to do," Chen Baiqi said.　　

Qi Leren said bitterly, "Can you tie a rope around me? What if I can't come back up from the water?"　　

Chen Baiqi's smile grew deeper, and her slender eyebrows made this smile even more malicious: "Don't be afraid, it doesn't matter if you don't come up for a while, anyway. You’ll slowly float up after swelling a little in two days."　　

“………………”

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Editor’s Notes: The next chapter may be a bit late, as I’ve had a hectic last couple weeks and unfortunately have fallen behind. I will try to avoid this though.

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#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei

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unorthodoxsavvy · 4 years

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Trying To Catch And Rescue A WILD Pigeon (fic)

This fic is for the wonderful @ttlmt who I know you all are already following wile they’re away as a coming-back present (and for a thank you for using their bad luck with timing of Phil uploading videos to give us not one but 2 new Phil videos while they have no service and cannot watch them).

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.6k

Characters: Dan Howell, Phil Lester, Steve the Pigeon, Scraggy the Pigeon

Ships: Dan x Phil, Steve x Scraggy

Find me on Wattpad

Phil was sitting on the couch, legs on top of Dan’s, scrolling through his twitter notifications, when one caught his eye.

“please help steve. his foot is injured and he might get really sick !!”

Phil went back to the photos and videos he’d shared of Steve for a closer look. They were right- Phil could see what looked like a piece of rope that had become tangled around the poor pale pigeon’s foot and it looked as if it was cutting off circulation.

Phil showed the photo to Dan.

“Why don’t you put some more seed out and try and get a better look? You know he’ll show up if you do.”

So that’s what Phil did.

Phil sat right up against the sliding glass door, nose almost pressed to the glass and fogging it up slightly. When Steve swooped down to start eating, Phil could really see his foot. It was swollen and whatever had gotten wrapped around it was frayed, almost as if he’d had to free himself from being stuck on something but hadn’t gotten it all off, just managed to cut himself loose. It was bent inward slightly.

Phil sighed sadly. Of course he was going to help Steve, he loved Steve, but how?

Well, he knew the best thing to do would be to call an expert, so he moved outside to get comfortable and looked up the number for the RSPCA on his laptop.

The automated system picked up, stating that unless it was an emergency, than to please wait.

Was this an emergency? It wasn’t a pet, but it was in danger, Phil thought. He didn’t know how long it’d been tied around his foot, and he didn’t know how much longer Steve could hold out on his own- but this was a wild pigeon… it didn’t matter to him, of course- an animal in trouble was an animal in trouble. But he didn’t know the policies here, so he decided to send an email.

He expected them to confirm that it was not a big deal, and was surprised when the answer he received implored him to take care of Steve as soon as possible, as this was an emergency, and to call them right away.

Phil dialed again and waited for someone to pick up.

“Name?”

“Steve.”

“Steve what?”

“Oh my name! I thought you meant the pigeon’s name,” Phil laughed awkwardly, remembering that some places called pets in by their names instead of their owner’s. It wasn’t so far-fetched, right?

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Dan filming him on his phone.

Phil listened to the professional on the other end of the line, using his computer to look up things like addresses for offices to help and phone number for local vets, but they stressed that it would be best if Phil could catch Steve himself. Of course Phil agreed to, and hung up.

“What did they say?” Dan asked from behind the camera.

“They want us to catch Steve and bring him to a vet.”

“How the hell are you supposed to catch a bloody pigeon?”

“I don’t know!”

Phil started looking up methods to catch a pigeon.

“This one says to throw a towel over it, but that seems traumatizing.”

“As if you could ever manage to do that,” Dan scoffed.

“This one says to trap it under a box! How are you supposed to get it out from under the box! It’ll just fly away!”

Dan stopped filming and put his phone down to sit across from Phil at their patio table.

“Why can’t you just convince him to come inside or something? He’s already half way there.”

“How are we going to catch him inside?” Phil asked, but just then his eye caught a phrase on page 2 of his google search.

“What if we train him to climb into a pet carrier,” Phil asked, focused on the page the link had brought him to.

“I mean that sounds more manageable than anything else you’ve found.”

So they went and bought a pet carrier.

Phil had Dan film him talking about his plan of putting seed in the carrier to lure Steve in gently as well as him explaining how he’d packed a towel in the bottom for maximum comfort.

Dan and Phil, though mostly Phil, over the next few weeks, made sure to try their best to only feed Steve and place heaping amounts of encouraging seed in the pet carrier. A new pigeon had shown up as well that Phil had named “Scraggy” because of her disheveled appearance, but she’d taken a liking to Steve. Phil knew he needed to help Steve get better so he could be reunited with his lovely Scraggy.

While this training was going on, Phil had taken to emailing various vets around the area looking for help. One responded kindly that they’d be willing to make an appointment for Steve. Eventually, though, they had stopped replying and Phil decided to pluck up te courage to make a phone call. It was for Steve, after all.

Phil had Dan film him again as he made an appointment for Wednesday.

Everything was set, and the only thing left to do was to catch Steve on that fateful Wednesday morning.

What could go wrong?

Wednesday morning arrive.

There was no sign of Steve.

Finally, after waiting around for hours, Dan spotted him in the tree.

“Get the carrier out,” Phil instructed.

“If he flies away when you come near it, how are you going to close the door?”

Phil’s eyes drifted in thought.

“Oh! What if we tie a string around it and close it by pulling the strong from inside?”

Dan rolled his eyes.

“Our lives are already a cartoon plot, might as well.”

And so that’s what they did.

Except, they didn’t have any string. Or yarn. Or anything, really. All they had were cords.

Dan offered up his spare phone charging cord and started filming Phil tying it around the cage door.

“Alright, why don’t you pull it closed while filming and then I’ll run over and lock it shut.”

Dan looked up at him.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes?” Phil smiled sheepishly.

Dan made a big deal of huffing and puffing about the plan but Phil knew that Dan would do it for him.

Phil sat the pet carrier full of seed laid upon the towel on their porch.

Dan crouched behind their ottomon watching as Steve slowly made his way into the pet carrier.

“Now,” Phil said when Steve was inside.

Dan pulled the phone charger.

Steve’s tail got stuck in the door but Phil was there in a second to push the door closed, and by that time Steve had already taken another step in. Scraggy was right behind the pet carrier, confused.

“Sorry Steve.” Dan zoomed in on the pet carrier. “We’re trying to rescue you.”

Scraggy waited patiently on the porch.

“Alright let’s head out.”

Phil walked down the street holding the pet carrier with Steve inside while Dan walked next to him and filmed.

The foot and car traffic were insane that afternoon, of course.

They made it to the vet without much incident, and the vet assistant met them at the door. They reassured Phil that Steve would “probably be fine” (which Phil didn’t like the sound of), and promised to call him with an update when they were done.

It was then Steve was handed over from the care of two bumbling idiots to animal medical professionals.

The two of them walked back home to wait.

It was only two hours, which, when you thought about it, didn’t seem too long, but for Phil it felt like ages.

Finally Phil noticed he had a voicemail, and had Dan record him while he played it out loud.

“I’m just calling you to let you know that the pigeon that you brought in to us is all done! He’s alright, we got the string off his foot, he did have to loose a toe unfortunately, but they adapt to that very quickly.”

“Do you want to pick him up now?” Dan asked after the recording was finished playing and Phil had finished talking to the camera.

“Yes, please.”

They walked back to the vet and picked up their bird.

They ended up needing to go in their lift to get back to their flat, which they had already ridden down to get to the street on their way out, and Phil wondered what it was like for Steve to ascend vertically without actually flying, and if he could tell they even were from inside the pet carrier.

Finally, it was Phil and Steve on the porch once more while Dan filmed.

Phil made a moment of opening the door to the pet carrier while the cacophony of London sirens clashed in the background. Phil had just put some more bird seed up on their feeder a moment before as an apology for Steve. To Phil’s surprise and delight, Steve flew up onto their railing area and then hopped down onto the feeder.

Dan and Phil laughed.

“I thought he’d be scared of me, but he’s just like ‘food?’” Phil bent down smiling to the camera.

Quickly he was joined by Scraggy, and the two of them sat in the feeder eating away as if nothing had happened.

Phil shuffled back inside.

Over the next few weeks Steve kept returning with Scraggy, and to Phil it looked like they were even building a nest. Phil knew that he couldn’t have Steve dependent on the birdseed alone forever and pledged to started weening him off the food.

Maybe some day in the future they’d have baby Scraggy and Steves.

And hopefully, if they did, none of them needed to be brought to the vet.

However, Dan and Phil had already proven to themselves that if that were the case, they were ready.

#phan #dnp #savvy's fanfictions #savvy's writing #phandom #steve the pigeon #scraggy the pigeon #dan and phil #dan howell #phil lester #danisnotonfire #amazingphil #phanfic #phanfiction

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thadelightfulone · 5 years

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The ‘E’ Commandments - Calling On You (Switch)

Use Me (Intro)

Daddy’s Rules

Sunset

Velvet Rope/ Sequel

Lose It

Summary: Erik wants to teach his girl some thangs…

Pairing: Erik x Black!OC

Genre: SMUT…build up, cool down…there is always some SMUT.

Warning: BDSM heavy…so if that is not your thing, there are plenty of other BP fics for you to read. Since the chapter names include the kink, please feel free to bypass any one that is not your speed. Unless you’re curious and want to learn a few things for yourself…in that case, ENJOY!!!

A/N: I would like to thank the anon that hit me up with the request for this scene. I honestly figured I would probably not update this at all again (it’s been almost a year). But this request sparked something and I was able to get this out. As always I had to add that Delightful touch, but I definitely got what you wanted in here. ENJOY EVERYONE!!!

Imani missed Erik.

It has been a busy few weeks for both of them; they were lucky if they got a solid 30 minutes to talk or video chat. She looks down at her phone, at the last communication she sent to him, a 'Good Morning' text at around 9 am before her first of multiple meetings for the day. It was now 9 pm, and she was just noticing his 'Miss you' text from noon. She sighs deeply as she rolls her shoulders back, cracking them slightly. Imani sets her phone down, picks it up, opening the conversation again, and sends an 'Are you up' text.

She shakes her curls free of the top bun; she put up in the morning. She grabs her robe and pads across the floor of her apartment to her wine cabinet, pulling out her favorite merlot. Phone in hand, she settles on her couch with the bottle and a glass. She just turned to a Law & Order rerun when her phone chimes. She looks at it, hopeful that Erik has some time for her. She throws the phone down.

"Stupid work emails. I left an hour ago; there is no need to bother me anymore tonight." She groans aloud. "Fuck this." She looks at her calendar, takes a big gulp of her wine, and shoots off another text. Changing the channel to one of those all music networks, she lets some early 90s R&B sooth her as the wine takes hold of her.

Erik missed Imani.

For all the work he was putting in on this project, he felt like he was out on another overseas mission. His phone was useless for anything other than work, and frankly, he was over it. He was over everything that did not include having his baby girl in his arms, on his lap, in his bed, under him. He stares at the laptop on his legs. He is sitting up in bed, putting together the final touches to his weekly report and the presentation for tomorrow. His phone chimes; he looks over at it and groans — another work email.

He continues tapping away as his phone continues to go off. Okay, that can't just be work. He leans over to his nightstand and grabs the phone off the charger. His frown transforms when he sees Imani’s name on the screen. She must have just got off work and saw his text from earlier. He quickly scrolls through her messages and looks at the very last one, 'When are you free, Daddy? I need you.' He shakes his head. She knows what she is doing. He saves and closes the documents on his laptop screen; then sets it aside.

Imani’s phone rings with a video call from Erik. She sets her glass down and accepts the call. “Hey Daddy!” She sings.

“How’s my pretty girl doing?”

“Better now that I have your attention.” She is moving so much that her robe falls off her shoulder.

“Is that all you want? My attention?” He smirks at her.

She feels herself responding to his voice. The wine has her feeling right, and her man is making Imani that much more aware of how long it has been since she has felt him or that masterful tongue. “Maybe,” she draws out, “I miss you.” She wraps the bottom of the robe around her fingers, “Among other things.”

“Oh? Like what? Tell Daddy.” He leans back on his headboard, moving the phone, displaying his studded chest allowing Imani to see the V leading to the top of his sweatpants. He watches her gulp deeply as she prepares her response to him.

"Well, I was thinking about us getting together for dinner," she licks her lips while ogling his body, "and dessert soon. It has been a while, Daddy." She lets the robe fall open and down her bare shoulders. Erik can just make out her hardening nipples.

"Oh, we can definitely do that. My place or yours." He winks at her, and she flushes.

“Your place. That’s where all the toys are.” Her eyes lower as she finishes her thought. Erik closes his eyes briefly as he exhales slowly.

“So, I take it you have something in mind for your,” he raises his eyebrows, “dessert.” She nods her head while looking at the phone. A chime goes off, and then her face drops. "What's wrong, baby?"

“Work. I’m gonna have to go in early to deal with this mess,” she groans. Exhaling her frustrations, “So, will Saturday work for you? I know you are wrapping up that major project.”

He glances at his laptop next to him, “Yeah, yeah. This week should be it. Saturday will be perfect. You gonna let me have my way with you?”

She smiles up at him, “When have you ever had to ask that Daddy? I am yours.”

“My girl! Now, why don’t you get some sleep and I will see you Saturday night." He blows her a kiss through the screen. She turns her cheek, so it lands there, and he laughs.

"Goodnight Daddy." She blows him a kiss; catching it, Erik places it on his chest. She giggles at him.

"That will have to do until Friday. Goodnight baby girl."

Imani jumps up, grabbing the wine to put away. She hums No Sleep by Janet on her way to the kitchen. Skipping back to her room, she takes off the robe and throws herself onto her bed. Three more days and she will be in his arms again.

Erik plugs his phone back up and grabs his laptop. They need to wrap this shit up before Friday. He has plans and does not want anything to go wrong.

--- Saturday Afternoon ---

Imani held a mini spa day at her place, pampering herself in preparation for what is about to go down tonight. She is sitting down on her bed, applying her favorite whipped shea butter that smells like cocoa to her skin from head to toe. She knows Erik loves it on her. She jumps almost dropping the container when her phone goes off. The volume was higher than she remembered setting it.

She reaches for the phone seeing Erik’s face on the screen. “Hey Daddy! Are you ready for me?” He is quiet on the line, and she looks at her phone to see if they disconnected. As the silence continues, she frowns up, “NO! NO! NO! Don’t do this to me.”

“I’m sorry baby girl. I wanted this, too. God, you have no idea. But the contractors called an emergency meeting. I am still here and knowing them; they will drag this shit out all weekend."

"All weekend?" She can hear him grumbling on the other end of the phone. She looks at her outfit laying on the bed.

“Yeah, we just broke for a late lunch.” He can hear her whimpering on the other end. “I promise to make this up to you baby girl. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Sniffling, she flops down on the bed, “I’m not mad at you. This just sucks.” He chuckles at her pouting.

"Once this is all over. I am all yours. I plan to take a few days off, and then we can get away. What do you say?" She can hear the desperation in his voice. He hates having to upset or deny her anything, but this can't be helped.

“Yeah, ok.” Rolling her eyes to keep the tears from falling down her face, “I gotta go. Bye E.”

“DAMNIT!” He slams his phone on the table after she hung up.

“You good Stevens?” One of his colleagues walked by his door.

Erik stands up, “Yeah, I just need some fresh air,” he brushes past him. “I’ll be back by the time we need to reconvene.”

“Okay, see you at 4.”

He makes his way to the elevator, pressing the button harder than necessary. “How can I make this up to her?”

--- Two Days Later ---

Imani took the day off from work. She was ready to snap off the heads of all her coworkers who decided that she didn’t have a life on the weekends. She wrapped up anything that could have waited until Monday before sending an email announcing her absence. Turning off the notifications on her emails, she put her phone away and fell into a peaceful sleep.

Monday morning came and went, Imani enjoyed sleeping in and a quiet phone. Took a long relaxing shower, prepared a lovely breakfast, enjoying the sun rising to its highest point of the morning from her balcony. Curled up in her chair, she looked out and thought about Erik. She was still disappointed about what happened to their plans on Saturday.

Imani rubbed her arms as the mid-morning breeze sent chills through her body. She definitely missed his touch. She suddenly stops and drops her legs to the ground. Standing up to stretch, a huge grin appears on her face, and she starts rubbing her hands together like Birdman. She collects her dishes and heads back inside to develop her plan.

It is late afternoon by the time she makes it over to his place. Imani lets herself in and immediately connects her phone up to his Bluetooth speakers. Her sensual R&B playlist begins to play throughout the apartment. She walks over to her bags and puts away all the grocery items. After leaving some long stem roses on the counter, she finds two of his tumbler glasses and places them in the freezer along with some fruit.

She picks up her small travel bag and takes it into the bedroom. She pulls out two outfits and lays them on the bed. Picking up one with a delicate lacy pattern, she grabs her scissors and starts to cut it up. Imani leaves the long stripes of lace from the waistline of the outfit intact. She grabs the scraps of the outfit from the bed, and takes them into the kitchen, leaving them on the counter next to the flowers.

Imani goes back into the room and her bag, grabbing her favorite lavender candles, and places them around the room. She goes into his closet for a hanger and puts her outfit outside the closet door. Taking one last look around, she checks her phone for the time. She goes into the bathroom and takes a shower to prepare herself for the night, and the role she is about to play.

---

It's Monday night, and Erik is at this company dinner, celebrating his team for all their hard work on the project. This shit is finally over, and he can't wait to let Imani know.

Erik looks at his phone. She has been short with him for the last two days, and he does not like it all. He has called, and she answers but doesn't stay on long. His texts get one or two-word responses. He hasn’t heard from her at all today, and that has him worried.

He knows that this is something they have to work through since it has never happened before. As a man of his word, he has been able to keep any date they set up, until now. Erik can't even say she is begging for punishment, because she is still in contact with him like he requested. But he knows that she is starving for attention and he plans to give her that in spades.

Dinner wraps up, and Erik practically runs out of the restaurant to his car. He pulls his jacket off and loosens his tie. On the way home, he decides to drop by her place tonight after washing all this work off him. He opens the door to his apartment and hears music playing. He notices a trench coat on the floor, and a frosty glass of Henny on his countertop as he hangs up his keys.

Taking a moment, he looks his place over. The lights are dimly lit, which is why he wasn't alarmed when he walked in, the sensors kick in after sunset. Imani is here. Nodding his head to the beat, he finally recognizes the song, Calling on You by Jon B. He drops his briefcase and jacket by the door, slipping off his shoes and putting them in the closet. Erik picks up the glass and spots the handwritten note underneath it –

Daddy -

I couldn’t wait any longer. And I think we both need this.

When you are ready, follow the red & black road.

~ Your Pretty Girl

He looks down and past the trench coat observing the wisps of black lace and red rose petals on the floor, leading a path to his bedroom. He takes a nice big sip of his drink and makes his way towards his room. Walking through his living room, he spots a pair of black and pink Adidas slides by his coffee table, a pair of dark blue denim jeans on the back of his couch and a black Strange Music t-shirt at the edge of his hallway. He grins as he picks up the bra hanging on the door of his bathroom, and laughs as he finds her lace panties on his bedroom doorknob.

Opening the door to his bedroom, Erik tucks the panties into his pocket and looks up to find Imani leaning up against his mirrored dresser. She looks up at him over her tumbler, barefoot in one of his long-sleeved button-down shirts. Imani smiles at him and puts her glass down as she finally speaks, “Have a seat and relax.”

“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise?” Erik looks around the room, noting the lit candles and the chair placed strategically in the center of the floor of his bedroom. He decides to play along and walks over to the chair. When he sits down, Imani walks over and stands in front of him.

He looks her up and down. His shirt stopped at her knees buttoned all the way to the top, and her hair in a high slick-backed ponytail with her curls in a big puff. He looks from her red pedicured toenails to her thick curvy hips and thighs, ending at her red painted lips pursed together watching him. When Erik finally makes eye contact with her, Imani takes a deep breath as his gaze penetrates her.

Imani knows that she must stay in control if this is to happen the way she wants. She matches Erik's gaze, not backing down from the intensity. He lifts his drink to his lips and winks at her. “You know what. I could use a refill.”

“I’m sure you could, but you won’t be getting one.” Erik raises his eyebrows at Imani’s response. “I only need one thing from you,” she walks around him and whispers into his ear, “Say Yes, E.” Floetry’s Say Yes begins flowing through the speakers. She walks out of the room, grabbing her glass along the way. Erik watches the sway of her hips as she pads across his hardwood floor.

Imani stops at the hallway closet and grabs a pair of black gladiator heels, taking a seat on the couch. Inhaling and exhaling, she tries to center herself. Feeling more relaxed and in control, she stands up after finishing with the stilettos. She continues to the kitchen and refills her glass of Hennessy.

Erik sits patiently in the chair; he hasn't moved since she walked out of the room. His index finger is slowly circling the rim of his now empty glass. Tapping his foot, he observes as Imani stalks back into the room, appearing much taller than when she left. He glances down to see her legs wrapped from knee to ankle with crisscrossed leather straps ending in a 5-inch stiletto heel.

Imani stands in front of him, wiggling her toes, and sipping from her refreshed drink. “Have anything to say?” He gives her a questioning glare, and she huffs at him. “I need an answer, Erik.”

"What's the question, Imani?" She shakes her head and walks over to the dresser, grabbing Erik's riding crop. Leaving her half-full glass there, she walks back over to Erik.

"Who?" Erik looks at the stern look on her face and tries not to laugh. Oh, she really wants to do this. She is now standing with her hip cocked to the left and tapping the riding crop on her open palm.

"Should I call you Miss or Madam?" His voice cracks on the last part, and Imani takes the riding crop and puts it under his chin, lifting his face to look her in the eyes.

"Miss will work just fine." She taps his chin on either side with the crop, "Now, try again."

“What is the question, Miss?”

“Good boy.” She smiles wickedly at him, and Erik feels himself harden at the sight of his innocent girl taking charge.

“Would you like to play with me tonight, Erik?”

“Yes, Miss.” Imani nods and takes the empty glass out of his hands. Erik reaches to take off his shirt, but her hand on his wrists stop him. “No, leave everything on. Keep your hands down by your sides.” She walks back over to the dresser, sets his glass and the crop down. Removing the clicker from his shirt pocket, she increases the volume and changes the song again.

The low rumbling sounds of Skin by Rihanna blare through the speakers. She slowly saunters back over to Erik, circling him as she starts singing the song directly into his ear. In front of him, she unbuttons his shirt as she starts a figure 8 roll of her hips while exposing a deep plunging neckline. Continuing down and mouthing the words to the song, she unveils a cranberry lace teddy adorning her glowing chocolate brown skin.

She maintains eye contact with him during the whole reveal, watching his breathe stutter as she continues her slow and sensual movements to the song. Imani drapes the shirt around Erik's shoulders and moves away from him just as quickly. She starts twisting her wrists at her hips as she rolls her body to the front. Pelvis gyrating in front of Erik, she laughs lowly, watching his hands curl into fists to keep from reaching out and touching her.

Imani spins around and bends over, so Erik has a wonderful view of her uncovered ass. She slowly rolls back up and drops down to the ground. Looking back at Erik over her shoulder, she slowly twerks controlling the movement of each cheek in time to the song. Still bent at the knees, she turns around in a circle, so Erik has a view of her lace-covered kitty. She bounces up and down, opening and closing her legs.

She is looking up as Erik squirms trying to remain still in the chair. She stands up and pulls the lace teddy down one shoulder, followed by the other, leaving her heaving chest exposed to his hungry eyes. She continues peeling the teddy off her body as she rocks her body to the chorus of the song. Stepping out of the teddy, Imani strolls over to Erik twirling the teddy on her fingers and passes it across his face. She observes him inhale deeply and stops behind him.

Leaning over, she lets her naked breasts press into his back as she takes both the teddy and shirt away from him. As the ending guitar solo starts to play, Imani drags her body along his, lifting one leg over both of his to straddle his lap. She feels his shoulders tense up and grabs his hands, putting them on her waist as she grinds onto him. Erik holds her tight but loose enough for Imani to continue her dance on his lap. She leans back exposing her neck, chest, and tummy to Erik. She looks up when she hears him groan loudly underneath her, causing her entire body to vibrate in response.

As the song ends, Imani removes Erik’s hands from her ass where they fell during her slow grind. She unbuttons his shirt, removing it from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. She slides off of him, looking at the mess she made of his pants with her wet pussy, and the hard pole bulging against them. She grabs his loosened tie, standing him up and leads him to the bed. He sits down at the edge.

Putting her leg up onto his lap, “Take off my shoes.” Erik obediently honors her request, as she tries not to giggle at him following her directions, no questions asked. When he finishes with the left, she hands him her right leg to remove the other heel. As he reaches up to her knee to untie the heel, his fingers linger. "Did I say feel me up?"

Snapping back to attention, Erik looks up at Imani’s smirking stern face and tries badly to hide his grin, “Sorry Miss.” He speeds up his task and puts his hands on top of his thighs when he is done. Desire by Raheem Devaughn begins, as Imani steps back from the bed.

“Very well. Now, get in the center, head towards the headboard.” Erik does as directed, laying down in the center of his bed. Imani looks Erik over, lying still on the bed, hands by his sides, bare naked chest showing all of his scars and his tented work pants. Snickering to herself, she hops onto the bed and climbs over him.

Imani looks down at him, underneath her and smiles. She braces herself with both hands on his pecs and rubs her wet pussy along the scars on his stomach and chest. Forward and back, left and right, and infinity circles. Imani can feel Erik’s body tensing under him as she uses him for her pleasure. She continues moving forward until her pussy is right at his chin, “Open your mouth. Tongue out and no hands.” She lifts her hips, plants her feet and lowers herself onto his mouth, shifting around as his beard tickles her pussy lips.

Imani sets a slow pace as she lifts and lowers herself on Erik's long tongue. Letting her wetness drip into his mouth and down his throat. When she finds her rhythm, she begins bouncing with more force — a few quick up-downs and then a long seat before rising and repeating the cycle over again.

Erik knows that Imani is a creature of habit. Now that she found this pattern, she is going to stay there until she cums. His hands are still beside him, tapping along to the song playing. He can feel her pussy clenching as she drops it on him and gripping his tongue as she moves back up. The next time she sits her ass entirely on his face, he curls his tongue and moves it a bit inside of her. Imani shudders but doesn’t say anything.

He lets her repeat her rotation a few more times uninterrupted until she cums against his tongue. She continues to ride through her orgasm, commenting on him being such a good boy and how happy she is with him. She mistakenly takes a moment to sit on his face again, and he starts licking her slowly, dragging his tongue all along her folds.

"ERIK!" Her knees buckle, and she drops to her knees, grabbing the headboard for support, mouth still on Erik's tongue. He takes full advantage of this new position and starts fucking her with his tongue. Poking in and out of her sopping wet center. Imani catches her breath and drags her pussy along his tongue when it pokes out and drops onto him when he pulls his tongue back. With a firm grasp on the headboard, Imani starts bouncing on his face again, faster and rougher than before. She stuns Erik, who adapts immediately by breathing in deep through his nose when she lifts up.

Imani is slapping her dripping wet pussy hard as hell on his face, and the sounds are bouncing off the walls in the room. They both are moaning and groaning from the intensity. Imani due to the orgasm creeping through her body again, starting from the depths of her stomach and moving out to her toes. Erik loving the sounds of Imani and her fucking his face. She clenches and shudders as her next orgasm rolls over her.

Erik makes his move and grips her hips, holding her down on his tongue as he curls and licks her into a mewling puddle on his face.

“FUCK YOU!” She screams out, as she is hit with back-to-back orgasms from his actions. She tries to ride it out as much as possible, but Erik is not making it easy. She tried to move away, but his hold did not give her any room to move away from his assault on her sensitive folds. "Let me go, boy."

Erik releases his hold on Imani’s hips, and she dramatically rolls over to the side. While catching her breath, she isn’t paying any attention to Erik. Who moves off the bed, and over to the dresser. He takes a long sip of from her glass, watching as Imani closes her eyes and slowly drifts off. He takes that moment to slip the long lace strips off of her wrists and slides her to the edge of the bed on her back. He grabs her hands and ties them using the lace straps; he sets them on top of her stomach. Imani opens her eyes and looks up at Erik, who is smiling.

Imani squirms in her position, head hanging off the edge of the bed and hears Erik unzipping his pants. He leans down to look at Imani’s surprised face, kissing her lips, “You’re welcome, baby girl.”

“No, it’s not –“ Erik dropped his dick down her throat. He pulls it back and runs it along her face, cheeks, and lips then taps it against her mouth.

"Open your mouth and no hands." Imani pouts as he uses her own words against her, and meets Erik’s laughing eyes as he leans forward again, sticking her tongue out as his dick rests on her mouth. "Be a good girl now." He groans as she moves him around with her tongue and wraps her lips around the head of his dick.

Erik steps forward allowing Imani to open up wider and take him in as far as she can. Imani relaxes into the position and runs her tongue along his shaft before moving further up on his dick. Erik watches as Imani lathers his dick with her spit before squatting down and lowering his dick into her mouth.

With her head back and Erik moving further forward, Imani opens and closes her mouth around his dick as much as possible. Erik squats down, Imani inhales squeezing her throat around him. He lifts up, she licks and moves her tongue around his shaft, sucking on the head. Repeat. Erik starts slow, lowering his dick for a few seconds and then raising back up. Soon, he starts moving like he is completing a repetition of squats at the gym.

Imani squirms in place as she takes all Erik is giving to her. He pulls back, “Level Check.” He watches her as she catches her breath.

“One Daddy.” She huffs out.

“Good girl.” He lifts her up and walks her over to the chair, sitting her upright. “Open wide.”

Imani opens her mouth, and Erik shoves his dick in. She chokes up on it a bit, and he pulls back until only the tip is in her mouth. She swirls her tongue around his head and adjusts to taking him sitting up. Holding her mouth open, she takes it as he moves himself in and out. Slowly at first, and then increasingly faster. He does this a few times, and then stops with himself fully seated in her mouth.

“Hold it.” She inhales around him and through her nose, holding the position. He pats her head as he moves back out, letting her catch her breath as strings of her spit on his dick break.

Erik pulls completely out and slaps her face a few times with his dick. Then he starts again, slow strokes in and out of her mouth, gradually moving faster, then stopping fully inside of her. "Hold it." He keeps it in longer this time, watching her gag on his dick and then removing it. "Good girl."

Erik repeats this a few more times. Standing back, he looks down at Imani. Her eyes have teared up, causing her mascara to run. Her red lipstick is smeared across her face and his dick. Drool and spit dropping off her mouth and chin. He throbs harder, looking at the moaning mess that is his pretty girl. He grabs her by the back of the head and plunges deep again.

Holding Imani in place, she takes it all, “My pretty girl, go ahead and accept this thank you all down your throat.” She moans and chokes as Erik cums in her mouth. She swallows as much as she can as fast as she can, and whatever misses runs out of the sides of her mouth dropping onto her naked breasts. Erik finishes, and Imani is still licking all around his shaft, having swallowed everything he gave her.

Erik moves back to regain his balance. “Damn girl, I love you.” She looks up at him, smiling and licking her lips. He goes into his bathroom to grab a towel to wipe him and her off. He leans forward and wipes the makeup and cum residue off her face, before wiping himself down. He kisses her deeply before moving about again.

He picks her up and pulls back the comforter on his bed, tucking her in. He walks out to his kitchen and grabs some water and fruit from the fridge. Bringing them back into the room, he gets into bed beside her.

“You really did have dessert planned, huh?” She turns to face him and laughs.

“You know I burn hot after being with you. Frozen fruit is good for times like this.” He feeds her the fruit and has her drink some water.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"No, thank you, baby girl. Daddy really needed that tonight." She snuggles in next to him.

“Can we do that again soon?”

“What is that?”

"Me taking charge." He looks down at her. "It was entertaining." She giggles at his expression.

“We’ll see.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you reacted to me?”

“Oh yeah,” he starts tickling her.

“Stop it, Daddy.”

“Or what?”

“You’ll make me pee.”

He pushes her away, “You better get outta my bed with that mess.”

“Then stop tickling me and give me cuddles,” she pouts. He pulls her back into his arms.

“I love you, Imani.”

"I love you, too, E."

A/A/N: I just used my current taglist for this story, so if you want to be removed, please let me know. I am open to taking requests for any scenes you want to see happen between this two.

Taglist: @panthergoddessbast @myboyfriendgiriboy @wakanda-inspired @hearteyes-for-killmonger @thememoireeofme @muse-of-mbaku @youcantkillamutant @princessstevens @bakarilennox @msincognito67 @drsunshine97 @youreadthatright @amethyst1993 @dacosmicdame @killmongersaidheyauntie @killmongerdispussy @thatbish27 @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @ljstraightnochaser @mamipeachy @thickoreo @thiccdaddy-mbaku @heyauntieeee @laketaj24 @eemahnee @bidibidibombaclaat @wikiwakanda @hidden-treasures21 @killmongersgurl @goddessofthundathighs @monizzle96 @ajspencer1892 @jayjaydrama @blackpinup22 @almostpurelysmut @wakanda4neva @theesotericqueen

#erik killmonger #erik killmonger x oc #erik killmonger smut #the e commandments #thadelightfulone

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janetgannon · 7 years

Text

‘I was rescued from death alone in mid-ocean’

Crippled by pain while sailing solo in the Indian Ocean, Andrew Halcrow had to call for rescue

Under full main and poled out genoa, Elsi lifts her skirts and revels in the South Atlantic’s northeasterly trade winds

‘I was saved from death alone in mid-ocean’

In the late 1980s I built a steel yacht in the Shetland Isles with the intention of doing a solo non-stop circumnavigation. It didn’t happen. Instead my brother Terry and I set off on a five-year trip round the world on the trade wind route. The desire to do the long solo trip never left me and in 2006 events conspired to make it happen.

My yacht was a Tahitiana, a double-ended steel cutter 9.6m long, called Elsi Arrub. I had huge confidence in Elsi as a superb sea boat but she was overweight and undercanvassed by today’s standards and I expected to be at sea for about a year.

At the end of 2005 I left my job after eight years as skipper on a local sail training vessel, Swan, and worked full time on preparing Elsi. The voyage would follow the old clipper route down the South Atlantic, through the Southern Ocean south of all the Great Capes: Good Hope, Leeuwin and Horn, and back up to Shetland.

Refitting for a green passage

Elsi and Andrew sailing out of Falmouth at the start of an epic adventure

I knew from our previous circumnavigation that we only used the engine to charge batteries so before leaving I took it out and relied on renewable energy; the wind, the sun and the water I sailed through, for my power. There was no challenge for me in using GPS for navigation and, although I carried a GPS, I used a sextant, compass and log line to keep track of my position.

Andrew uses a calm spell to sort good onions from bad on deck

Although this was to be a ‘solo’ trip, the only singlehanded bit about it was that I was the only one aboard Elsi. It was really a team effort with my wife Alyson doing the all-important shore side work while I was at sea. As well as helping to get Elsi ready on time she would provide me with regular weather forecasts and be the vital link between the ocean and the shore.

Elsi and I left Shetland on 27th June 2006. All went well apart from me having a few stomach upsets and Elsi growing a small forest of goose barnacles, which slowed us up a lot.

‘The pain became more severe’

By 19 December we were almost half way round and about 315 miles south-southwest of Cape Leeuwin when the occasional stomach pain suddenly became more severe. I could hardly do anything and the pain was considerable and getting worse. I knew I had to get off and called Alyson on my satphone. She contacted Shetland Coastguard, who called the UK’s International Coastguard station at Falmouth and they passed the message on to the Australian Maritime Safety Authority (AMSA).

I thought it might be some time before any rescue service could reach me so I was surprised to hear an AMSA plane call me on the VHF only four hours later. They told me that a merchant ship, the Elegant Star, was about eight hours behind us and would be at our position around 0300 the following morning. The plan was for the vessel to launch her ship’s boat and come across to pick me up.

‘It was an effort to pick up a winch handle’

Elsi was still sailing east so I knew I had to get the jib down so I could heave to and wait for the Elegant Star. I managed to get myself up on deck, but I was in so much pain that I was literally moving two inches with every step. It was an effort to pick up a winch handle let alone do anything with it. All my headsails were hank-on and I struggled to get the jib down and heave to. For the first time on the voyage I bundled the jib down the forward hatch without bagging it. I wouldn’t need to set it again any time soon. I packed a bag with odds and ends I wanted to take. There was so much stuff but I could only take a limited amount. I put in my passport, the satphone and charger, my logbooks, camera and laptop. In no time the bag was full.

Andrew had total faith in Elsi’s ability to handle anything the sea dished out, like this scene in the Southern Ocean

As the night wore on the wind and sea picked up to Force 5-6 and by the time the Elegant Star was at my position in the early hours they didn’t think it was safe for them to launch their boat. I had no other option but to get back out on deck, get the sails set again and sail over to them. I got the jib hauled up onto the foredeck one little bit at a time, hanked it on and hauled it up but I didn’t have the strength to winch it properly tight.

We eventually got sailing but we were sailing away from the Elegant Star. I tried to tack a couple of times but Elsi was very sluggish with the growth of barnacles, and I was moving even slower than she was. The seas just kept knocking us back and I couldn’t sheet in or work sails quick enough. In the end I gybed round. There was little I could do to stop the boom crashing across but it actually came over as easy as if we had been in a pond on a summer’s day.

Rescue appears

As we came alongside the Elegant Star’s lee side the crew threw down a line and I made it fast. I had hoped the Elegant Star would take Elsi in tow and crept slowly forward to rig a towline on the bow and drop the jib. Then I tottered back to the boom and got the mainsail down. I wrapped a line around it, but it was far from being a good ‘harbour stow’. I had no fenders aboard and Elsi was clanging and crashing into the ship’s side as we both rolled unevenly in the swell.

The crew had lowered the ship’s gangway thinking I could walk up it. One of the crew was waiting for me at the bottom end. I took one look and knew I couldn’t do it. There was a gap I would need to jump across and at that time I couldn’t even have jumped over a postage stamp. I indicated to them that it was impossible. They dropped down a rope pilot ladder.

I was pretty weary by then, but when it came rolling down the ship’s side I knew I had to get up it. My bag was down below but I knew I couldn’t carry it up with me and in my poor state I was past caring anyhow. It was about eight, maybe ten metres to the deck. I didn’t know if I could get up but I knew I had to try.

Crippled by pain, Andrew had to dig really deep to find the strength to climb Elegant Star’s pilot ladder

I waited until Elsi lifted on a swell then reached up and grabbed hold of the ladder as Elsi fell away below me. I knew I had to keep going up before the next swell lifted her again and she crashed into me. I had to keep focused, keep going up and I knew, from having seen quite a few sea survival videos, that once I was at the top I couldn’t just collapse and relax. Too many casualties have done that on the point of rescue and just faded away. I had to keep thinking the deck was just another step on the way until I slowly wound down.

The crew of the Elegant Star look on as Andrew inches his way up the ladder

Before I knew it I was at the ship’s rail. A strong hand grabbed my arm to make sure I didn’t fall back down. I was led into the ship’s sick bay and was there till the following day when we were close enough to the shore for a helicopter to come out and take me off. I was flown in to Albany hospital where they operated on me. It was appendicitis. My appendix had been burst for about two days and peritonitis had set in. I was lucky to get away with my life.

Lessons learned

Andrew checks the bottlescrews and chainplates. Regular maintenance is crucial

People have asked me why I didn’t get my appendix out before leaving. I had considered it, but I figured I had been very healthy for the past 47 years and surely that year I would be OK too.

Usually it’s considered a young person’s ailment and most cases occur between the ages of 10-20. I was told of a Dutchman, my age, who planned a similar trip. He went to his doctor and asked if he should get his appendix taken out before he went. The doctor said that at his age he was far more likely to have a heart attack so did he want him to remove that as well?

Some people do get their appendix out before going on a long trip; some get all their teeth taken out as well. Perhaps the best advice is: if in doubt, get it out.

Elsi nears Amsterdam Island in the southern Indian Ocean. Andrew was already having stomach upsets

Having the satphone was a great help as I could explain to Alyson exactly what the problem was, along with my position and it was a real stroke of luck that the Elegant Star was able to pick me up.

All the rescue services were excellent and that facilitated a quick rescue in a remote part of the ocean.

I didn’t have an EPIRB on board for reasons of expense. An EPIRB is great when there is either no time or no means to get a message out or to keep track of a boat or liferaft. It does exactly what it says, it indicates your position in an emergency, but it is limited in that the only information it can put out is a position. The satphone was far more useful in my situation.

If money had been no problem then I would have carried one and would recommend one to others if they can afford it, but I had to choose, and I chose the satphone.

‘They found your boat, mate!’

After drifting for seven weeks, Elsi was spotted and salvaged. It’s a remarkable story that Andrew has committed to paper in his new book, Into the Southern Ocean

Alyson flew out to join Andrew. They agreed with Albany fisherman Robin Greene, skipper of the 60ft Kiama, that he would go out to find her with two days’ notice of her sighting. They chartered a small aircraft twice but there was no sign of Elsi. They returned to Shetland.

Some 54 days later, Rescue Coordination Centre Australia was notified of a yacht in trouble about 180 miles south-west of Albany and sent up a reconnaissance aircraft. On its way out the aircraft flew over a derelict-looking yacht and took a photo. Someone in RCC Australia remembered Elsi and compared the photo to one taken during Andrew’s rescue. It matched! A delighted Andrew was informed.

Andrew contacted Robin with the reported position, flew out to Australia and was thrilled to hear that Robin had found Elsi. Despite vowing never to try it again, he did, on a non-stop, solo westabout route but was rolled and dismasted shortly after rounding Cape Horn and rescued, this time by the Chilean Navy.

Andrew Halcrow

Andrew, seen here rounding Cape Horn on a later voyage with Elsi, has been sailing for almost 50 years and has covered more than 100,000 miles as skipper on large and small sailing boats. He has skippered a variety of commercial vessels including eight years with the Shetland sail training vessel Swan. He now works as a Shetland Coastguard

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yachtaweigh · 7 years

Text

‘I was rescued from death alone in mid-ocean’

Crippled by pain while sailing solo in the Indian Ocean, Andrew Halcrow had to call for rescue

Under full main and poled out genoa, Elsi lifts her skirts and revels in the South Atlantic’s northeasterly trade winds

‘I was saved from death alone in mid-ocean’

Refitting for a green passage

Elsi and Andrew sailing out of Falmouth at the start of an epic adventure

Andrew uses a calm spell to sort good onions from bad on deck

Elsi and I left Shetland on 27th June 2006. All went well apart from me having a few stomach upsets and Elsi growing a small forest of goose barnacles, which slowed us up a lot.

‘The pain became more severe’

‘It was an effort to pick up a winch handle’

Andrew had total faith in Elsi’s ability to handle anything the sea dished out, like this scene in the Southern Ocean

Rescue appears

Crippled by pain, Andrew had to dig really deep to find the strength to climb Elegant Star’s pilot ladder

The crew of the Elegant Star look on as Andrew inches his way up the ladder

Lessons learned

Andrew checks the bottlescrews and chainplates. Regular maintenance is crucial

People have asked me why I didn’t get my appendix out before leaving. I had considered it, but I figured I had been very healthy for the past 47 years and surely that year I would be OK too.

Some people do get their appendix out before going on a long trip; some get all their teeth taken out as well. Perhaps the best advice is: if in doubt, get it out.

Elsi nears Amsterdam Island in the southern Indian Ocean. Andrew was already having stomach upsets

Having the satphone was a great help as I could explain to Alyson exactly what the problem was, along with my position and it was a real stroke of luck that the Elegant Star was able to pick me up.

All the rescue services were excellent and that facilitated a quick rescue in a remote part of the ocean.

If money had been no problem then I would have carried one and would recommend one to others if they can afford it, but I had to choose, and I chose the satphone.

‘They found your boat, mate!’

After drifting for seven weeks, Elsi was spotted and salvaged. It’s a remarkable story that Andrew has committed to paper in his new book, Into the Southern Ocean

Andrew Halcrow

The post ‘I was rescued from death alone in mid-ocean’ appeared first on Yachting Monthly.

Read Full Content Here

The post ‘I was rescued from death alone in mid-ocean’ appeared first on YachtAweigh.

from http://yachtaweigh.com/i-was-rescued-from-death-alone-in-mid-ocean/

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