The Mollie McGhie Cozy Sailing Mysteries, Books 4-6 by Ellen Jacobson

Author:Ellen Jacobson [Ellen Jacobson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ellen Jacobson
Published: 2021-04-17T00:00:00+00:00

10 - Nochocophobia

The next morning, I sat in the cockpit of our sailboat watching how-to videos about going up a mast. They all seemed to feature young, fit people. Impossibly attractive guys and gals who didn’t break into a sweat despite dangling sixty feet up in the air in the hot sun.

My stomach twisted in knots as I watched one man demonstrate how he performed the feat solo. I was on pins and needles as he scrambled up the steps attached to his mast. Would he make it to the top? If he fell, would his safety line really save him? What would happen if a flock of seagulls suddenly attacked him?

At one point, his foot slipped, and I thought he was a goner. I squeezed my eyes shut. When I didn’t hear any screams of a man tumbling to his death, I resumed watching the video. The rest of it was anti-climactic. He got to the top, fixed an antenna, descended, then poured himself a beer.

I set my phone aside, grateful I wouldn’t have to be part of this craziness. I remembered meeting a young woman named Ginny who had told me that being afraid of heights was called “acrophobia.” I wasn’t sure that my fear extended to phobia-territory, but glad that I wouldn’t have to find out. The only phobia that I knew that I had was “nochocophobia”—the fear of running out of chocolate.

No, Scooter and Ben would do just fine taking care of going up the mast by themselves. Fixing the marine toilet on our boat seemed like a piece of cake in comparison. Sure, it might be grosser, but you would be less likely to lose your life in the process.

I went down below to make some more coffee and check on Scooter. He had gone to bed early the previous night, complaining of a stomachache. I think it had to do with discovering more unpleasant facts about his celebrity crush and feeling conflicted about the auditions. He thought it had something to do with eating one too many cookies.

After I put the water onto boil, I poked my head into the aft cabin. He was sleeping peacefully, Mrs. Moto curled up beside him. Giving each of them a gentle kiss on their foreheads, I finished making my coffee drink—a mocha this time with extra chocolate syrup.

Grabbing my mug, I started to climb up into the cockpit, when I heard Cassie Newton’s voice. I carefully positioned myself at the top of the ladder, hunched over so that I couldn’t be seen. Some people might argue that I was being nosy. Honestly, I wasn’t. Eavesdropping is a legitimate investigative technique.

I sipped my coffee as I listened to Cassie’s tirade.

“Are you kidding? That wasn’t our agreement. If you think you can get away with this, you’ve got another thing coming. You know what happened last time someone crossed me.”

I nearly dropped my mug when I heard that. It reminded me of that night in the Tipsy Pirate when she didn’t realize that everyone was listening to her on the phone.

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