There is a saying. Everyone has a twin somewhere in the world.

Like most people I laughed my butt off when I first heard it. Sure there is lots of "proof" of that being a real thing. I just never once thought I would meet someone anywhere like me.

Being barely five feet six inches...depending on how observant the nurse or doctor that measures me is anyway. I would love to say that I was short fat and overly hairy. Well almost. I am not fat, high metabolism prevents me from every getting much in the way of fat. Ive been using these weight gain drinks for building muscles for years.

I do have some muscle, it is well defined...mostly. I will never be all that defined with super tight muscles as it appears that using that weight gain stuff can have unfortunate side effects. Namely my body no longer absorbs my natural testosterone quite right. I am not impotent but my skin is a little softer than it should be and my pectorals are a little larger than they should be, it was why I stopped taking the stuff.

Don't get me wrong I didn't get breasts from the stuff but there is a little more fat than normal there. Once I learned what was happening, I stopped taking the stuff. So while I am not impotent or anything I just will never be all that defined muscle wise.

Of course I was also slowly losing all the mass I had worked so hard to gain.

One of my passions is sailing. I have sailed in small boats, canoes, kayaks, even what is normally called a sharpie but it is the north American version not the UK version.

When I am not sailing, or just looking at as many sailboats as I can. I go hiking. Sometimes day trips with a backpack with food and stuff. I even do that when sailing come to think of it.

It was while I was sailing away in mind while hiking that I came across a beauty to take my breath away. I had been going a long a path that cut's through a sorta park along the edge of a river. A first all I saw was an obvious wedding party taking pictures. Not unheard of. I had been walking along when I saw her for the first time.

I'll be honest it was like being punched in the gut at how beautiful she was, so feminine in her light summery dress showing off her wonderful curves but also just how it was like seeing my face on a woman's body.

I tripped and rolled on automatic, and that blessed angel came running over in her heels to help pick me up. When she saw my face she gasped with that delicate hand going to her mouth.

For some reason neither of us could explain we stood there hand in hand looking deep into the others eyes before we just kissed right there. It was like magic and sparkles and gods knows what else. Her arms went around my neck and mine around her waist. Aside from her heels giving her a slight advantage we were the same hieght.

Claire had just below her shoulder wavy "dirty" blonde hair while mine was in my usual ponytail. Undone it had a slight wave that reached the tops of my shoulders in brown.

I don't know how it happened but from my hike I ended up at some hall as Claire and I talked amidst kissing.

Most call it love at first sight but, to be honest, that does not do it justice. By the end of the night we were totally smitten with each other.

Her mother was there the entire time but I don't think I actually met her till about three months later. I had traded in my kayaks, canoe, and sharpie for a small cabin cruiser.

Claire and I spent many weekends on the water just drifting around for the most part. If we didn't do that we were at either her place or mine. I don't recall if we slept apart from the first day we met.

We got married, me in platform shoes and her in heels. I know we said the vows, its on tape, but it is like watching another person doing it. Life was wonderful. She worked at her company that she had started everyday. The company is not really large nor small but quite profitable. She got in the internet website database business long before it became a thing. When bitcoin came around she got in early and earned a fair amount as well. Not mined like some hackers do, earned. She was part of the "world computer" with about ten machines loaded with graphic cards at home.

At work she has her assistant Sherry who I briefly met at the wedding and a number of other people that work in the office building and maintaining website databases.

In case your wondering one database maintenance earns about 100k a year. Well for large multinational corporations. Which is who she does the maintenance for. At any one time she has about twenty to thirty accounts going. Most of her people do the actual work now. She manages client interviews, meetings with clients, and meetings with new clients.

Claire is also a girly girl at heart. Her office attire is always a skirt suit, skirt and blouse, skirt and blazer, dress and blazer. With heels I should add. She looks gorgeous all the time for work, and she has had to change a few times before leaving for work after we ravished each other...often.

That doesn't mean she doesn't own pant suits or jeans. She owns like a pair or two of each. Of course I kinda found it hot when she wore the mini jean skirts for working on stuff myself. In our backyard at home in the country we have an old "yacht" I do not know when it was originally built. We suspect it was sometime between 1920-1940. She is a wooden cutter. I should explain that in the uk there is ships known as pilot cutters, there is also gaff cutters. It is the design of the ship that more or less has a deep keel with a huge lead weight at bottom to help balance the ship and many had cement poured in to act as ballast. Early cements are mostly sponges and hold water quite well. More modern cements are less porous.

Back to our cutter. We got it from a salvage yard. It had a mast, no rigging at all, most of the original fittings are broken or missing, it was sunk, and some bright guy in the 1970s decided to fiberglass the whole thing. So it may be a pilot cutter, gaff cutter, or even a schooner design. I have no idea.

So lets backtrack a bit. There is a wooden ship, frames, hull, deck and cabin structure, with iron braces called knees and floors, with old style cement..all covered in fiberglass but not all that well.

The original wood is mostly piecemeal rot. We spent many hours taking it apart piece by piece trying to salvage as much of the original wood, which surprising is possible while still wet dry it turns to dust. Thus we soak them in an epoxy pressure chamber. I think it may have started life as a large propane tank. Not sure a local guy made it for us. Once dry we take them out to our newly made large timber framed wood shop with all the goodies. Sorry no cnc stuff, and draw them out as best we can.

Of course Claire often wore that skirt so half the time we spent fooling around. Tablesaw with extension table saw a lot of use and not for wood. There is a lot of measurements and various plans we have either purchased or downloaded trying to match it up. Ehhh it doesn't seem to match that much. She was made with brass bolts and copper nails clenched over. Frames might be oak. Some of the hull boards might be teak...or mahogany.

Oh sorry she refers to the ship we want to call Love. Corny I know but hey whatever works. The name has been registered, which was surprisingly easy come to think of it. Until it is completely rebuilt and inspected it wont have a call sign designation though. There is a whole bunch of stuff involved with that. Electronics as well.

Surprisingly the one good thing she had was a complete Detroit Diesel marine engine. Siezed but complete. According to the machine shop doing most of the work it was not that bad. Crankshaft, gears, camshaft, blower all cleaned up easily. Pistons and liners were all bad and conrods were toast. Bearings all bad. Pump was good as it was sealed with fuel still in it. Fittings on outside need changing and it kinda looks on the bad side but I am told she will clean up nicely. Head was cracked so no real loss there with the seized parts. Thankfully they are not hard to find. I managed to find a nos valve cover too.

In other words its rebuildable and wont cost a ton of money. We are not in a rush for it so they are taking the time to do it right, and since I trust Tom, who was my best man at wedding, it is in safe hands and will purr like a kitten, work right, and most importantly safe.

We dont know what she had originally for a gearbox as it was solid rust. The prop shaft and fittings for it were gone. Thats okay tom has this idea for a hydro thing a ma jig that will allow us to sail her without drag from prop. Actually I met Tom sailing around as I hit his boat with my canoe. Just a scuff mark. We shouted at each other a few times on the water and spent the night in the bar at the dock.

Turns out it was a good thing I hit his schooner with my canoe. He had a build up of barnacles hiding a crack in hull. We spent a few weeks on the marina yard fixing that up. His is a hybrid schooner. Plywood layered hull and epoxy with fiberglass. That one spot had rotted the outer layer of plywood about three feet around and the second layer was very wet but dried out fine.

The work wasn't that hard and I was often kidded as being his girlfriend more than once. I still think that yard guy is convinced I was his girl at the time. We got very drunk and spent many a night in the cabin followed by messy mornings.

Love is not out in the open. She is in what is called a quanset building. Big round thing with a door. It is not a permanent building so we don't pay property tax on it. All poles and a covering made out of some heavy material that doesn't break down in weather.

Also in quanset is our woodmizer. Nice all hyrdralic electric machine for cutting trees into lumber. Why, simple woodens ships use, for lack of a better word, crooked to oh heck lumber. The trees are actually pretty cheap. A couple of aborist's that we have contacted have been sending us oak trees they cut down that are not in anyway straight. Unfortunately these are all shipped to us on trucks or by rail so the shipping isn't all that nice.

I should mention that it is not all Claire's money that is used. I'm not exactly poor after winning the lottery twice. The winnings totalled a little over sixty seven million. I am not sure of what my total worth is at the moment. Claire by herself was worth around twenty million when we got married.

For nine years of bliss everything was perfect. Life was good.

But all good things, as they say, come to an end.

It started off with Claire not feeling well one day and she went to doctor. She came home and didn't say much just had me hold her tight. We may have played with each other a lot and stuff but sex itself, while done, wasn't the basis of our time together.

We had planned to have children soon around the time she got sick. A sickness she did not tell me about for almost two years. I know why she did it. And I do not hold any resentment for it either. She had cancer. The doctors were hopeful that they could cure her. And for two years of treatments they thought they had.

Unfortunately that turned out to not be the case it just went benign before exploding into stage four cancer. We she got the bad news she told me. I was a long couple of days of crying for both of us. Telling her mother was just as hard.

The cancer was not large just very spread out. They did surgeries to remove some of it when it became active. But it was only a stop gap. The cancer would not respond to treatments. Being given a death sentence at the prime of your life is not a good thing.

Aside from her mother nobody else was informed of the cancer. Her business just assumed she was getting treatments for an ailment but it was going well. It was her mother that got us to take that cruise.

One of those around the world cruises that takes over six months or so. I didn't really want too, in a way I went crazy trying to find a way to cure my wife, my heart. It was her mother that made me realize doing that, the way I was, was hurting Claire. So we took the cruise. It was one of those things we had planned to do in Love.

For the first two months of the cruise we had a good time, stopping at occasional ports and seeing sights, sitting on deck or playing in one of the many places on the ship, ballroom dancing, vr shooting, once to the casino but neither of us have ever been that fond of gambling. A couple of movies and live entertainers, some truly magnificent meals dressed up to the nines.

Once I even let Claire talk me into going to the salon and getting a makeover like her. With a bit of padding and makeup I was her twin and we played at being twins for a bit. That was funny. We had a pretty good time.

About two months in Claire got up one morning and puked up some blood. Not a lot but some. Since we were in port at some place I can't remember the name of we went to a hospital there. Once there I talked with the captain of the ship and he gave me a package that stated I could continue the cruise after things were better.

Well things didn't get better. Day after day I would go to hospital and sit with Claire. Praying that god would listen to me and heal my wife, my heart. I didn't bathe much or even wash my clothes. I just put on a pair of clothes from suitcase and went to be with her as much as possible. Slowly the light of my light faded away bit by bit. More and more morphine was needed to dull her pain.

To see your heart, which is what Claire was to me, slowly go from vibrant and beautiful to a shrunken shell of herself struggling to breathe is heart wrenching.

We got there in late February, on July 2 Claire breathed her last breath while I was holding her hand. I waited anxiously for the next breathe. I don't remember the machines going still. The doctor and nurse had to pry me out of there and sedate me. I kept insisting she would breathe again just wait.

For two days I sat in my dark hotel room. I didn't eat, I didn't sleep, I didn't even use the washroom. I just sat there by the phone waiting for the hospital to call me and tell me they were wrong and that my Claire was still alive. That their machines malfunctioned. That somehow her cancer was gone and she was coming back. Anything.

And then I cried.

And cried.

And cried. She was gone. My heart was gone. It hurt so much. It was like someone had ripped out my heart, hammered it a dozen times and shoved in back in wrong.

And yes I tried the mini bar. It just made it worse. The pain in my chest and throat were beyond what you can imagine. I don't mean pain as physical pain, although there was some, but the emotional pain just hurt so dam much I couldn't take it.

And in hindsight probably led to where I am today.

After three months of no bath, improper eating, except for hospital food. I smelled horrible and probably looked it. I do not know exactly how many days I spent on the floor of the hotel room in a really bad state but I did eventually get off the floor.

Room service was once a week and the cleaning lady found me. She helped me up off the floor. Made me have some soup and put me in the tub. She washed me twice before I sorta got with it. I think her name was Doreen but I can't be sure. In a way she probably saved my life. The clothes I had been wearing were beyond saving. She used gloves to dispose of them to be honest.

Clean in a hotel robe she left me there. Every day for a few days she would come and make me eat and drink. I sat in that robe watching the tv that I hooked up to my cell phone. I have videos of Claire alive and well on it that I watched non stop, well almost, as she made me turn them off to eat and use bathroom.

The hospital called and asked me to come get the ashes for Davis. I should have tweaked to that little bit but I didn't. I hadn't unpacked exactly just grabbed whatever was there and put the dirty stuff back into suitcase.

Well I was sorta of with it or at least getting there when I unzipped that suitcase. The smell made me run to bathroom and toss up my sandwich. It really smelled that bad. I closed it again sealing out most of the smell before I put it on the hotel room outside balcony.

I knew, no.. I had to go get what was left of my Claire. It was not a choice.

There was another suitcase. Claire's. I had dressed up on the ship once and was passable. I should mention my voice was never deep. But I talked like a guy, pretty monotone. I wasn't a high pitched voice either. More borderline as Claire once put it. Provided I didn't talk to much it would make people guess.

Opening her suitcase should have been hard. Well harder than it was. I would see a piece of her clothing and remember her with it on. I cried a few times. Panties were not a problem, and since Claire had me get facial hair removal that got extended to leg, arm and armpit hair somehow, I didn't need to shave. To be honest I was never all that fond of it either and it sure made our sex life much more uhm exciting.

I could have gone without a bra. I could have just grabbed a pair of her shorts and a t top she had. But I didn't. Claire would never go without a bra and so I grabbed one. I moved some of flesh around but I couldn't hope to fill the empty cups. Somehow it just seemed wrong for them to be emtpy. Some searching got me the mysterious garment known as pantyhose. I won't bored you with details but my first ever experience on ship had Claire in tears. One in each cup helped but not enough. Some toilet paper and leftover napkins from lunch seemed to do an okay job. What little flesh i had was moved to give a hint of cleavage, or i was just hoping.

I had choices of clothing and not a single pair of pants. I did not have hips for a skirt, and to be honest I didn't think it would look good so I grabbed one of her dresses. Just a simple dress that flare out from waist in white with flowers. Shoulders with this tiny bit of sleeve that would flutter in wind when she wore it.

I turned around it was almost like I could see Claire in the mirror. Perhaps it was a mistake but I had to do more. The shoes that went with the dress were open toe. Claire always had her toes painted. The first nail polish i found was red so that is what I used. I slopped a bit on my toes having never done it before. My nails on my hands, while unkept and a little longer that my usual had possibilities. Of course I had seen her do her nails a number of times. Filing my nails, on the other hand was going to take too long. A bit of trimming with her nail clippers did a passable job.

Painting my nails was arduous and long as I didn't want to slop like I did with my toes. The Uv thingy for drying them was a little confusing and I messed up the finish on three nails. They were colored but not smooth and shiny. It would have to do.

Like any husband that loves his wife I had seen her sit at her vanity putting on the makeup a number of times, I won't tell how many times I interrupted her to much giggling. I also had a little bit of practice from that time on ship. Using a picture of Claires face zoomed on my phone I worked on my face with foundation and powder. Maybe a little too much powder which thankfully did not stain the dress.

I did not bother with eyeliner but I did pluck my eyebrows. A bit of eyeshadow in blue and black mascara was my limits. The red lipstick was just something I grabbed out of that large case of makeup she had. I had to redo it but it was alright. None of that blotting stuff. No blush I just used the brush she had last used on my cheeks which seemed to highlight my cheek bones.

I then let down my hair from its pony tail. It had grown out over the last couple months. The original cut that was close to Claire's and coloring was still there. You could see that my roots were showing quite a bit but it was almost as long as what Claire's was. I brushed and brushed my hair till it shined like she used to do.

And I was happy for the first time in what seemed like so long. There in the mirror was my Claire. She needed earrings though. And a necklace. And her wedding ring. Which I guess i put on but to be honest, I dont really remember doing. On went the heels. I would love to say it was easy to walk in them. It wasn't, but it was not all that hard and Claire had made me practice, not walking like a guy, for that day on ship. Without much thought I grabbed the purse by the door that had not moved in months. Locking the door behind me.

Walking outside for the first time in days felt really nice till the wind blew up my skirt. It was a wakeup call. I was outside dressed like a girl. This was wrong. I knew it was wrong and I started to panic till I looked in the window of the store I was beside. All was right there was my beautiful Claire.

You may wonder about how I looked down there. As Claire used to say, the only time you look like a guy down there is when your frisky, otherwise you look like a girl wearing maxipad. Her words not mine.
I was born with a malformed scrotum. Which is a nice way of saying that although I had testicles they looked like two bumps on either side of my penis. When flaccid it all just kinda hid going up and depending on what I wore gave me a mostly smooth front. The panties kept everything in place quite nicely.

The walk to the hospital I had been to so many times over the last couple months was not long. Claire got a few whistles of course. It did not take much time to get to the desk at the front. I had been here often enough I could have had a coffee cup with my name on it, if I drank the stuff.

The click click of Claire's heels made me look down and suddenly remember how I was dressed. In a shy breathless voice I said I was here for Claire Davis ashes.

She just looked up and said Davis? I nodded and she looked down at her papers or something. Wrote one or two things after she found folder, had me sign at the bottom before leaving to get Claire's ashes.

Now most places would put them in a nice box or fancy looking jar. I got a plastic bag marked Davis on outside. I was not impressed. Most people would have said something at that point to excuse the plastic bag. She did not, just went back to work and nothing.

The walk back the click click of my heels made me often look down thinking I was crazy, perhaps I was, but when I looked up I could occasional see glimpses of my love Claire. While walking back there was this one lady having a ciggerette outside of some store or something and as soon as she saw me she dropped it and came to hug me or hold me up, not sure which.

It was at that point I realized I was crying again. She brought me into her store, which was a hair salon. Her name was something like anita but wasn't. I clutched that bag of ashes like it was my life. Even when she led me to the back, washed my hair a few times, colored it, trimmed it up, plucked eyebrows, and game me a mani pedi, including gel nails. I never once let go of that bag. How she did the fingers on that hand I'll never know. She did a few other things as well, like point out i didn't put on a slip under my dress so it didn't hang right and stuff.

I mumbled a few times trying to protest but I was half crying, half sleeping so it probably didn't do much. Having no idea how long I was in that chair sleeping I can tell you it was no longer early morning but closer to late afternoon.

She did all that for me, I didn't ask her too. But when she turned me around I burst into tears again ruining the makeup. There is the mirror was my heart, my love, Claire looking beautiful again. Apparently my tears were thanks enough as she hugged me letting me cry before "fixing my face" as she put it.

I offered to pay but she refused before sending me on my way. Now even more I kept seeing my beloved as I walked back to the hotel feeling so much better.

At the front desk of the hotel for the first time in perhaps months I stopped at the front desk to get messages that might have been left for me. My voice was a little horse from crying so much lately or perhaps I unconsciously didn't speak loud. I can never be sure but when I asked for messages for Davis in my room she assumed I was Claire. Which was odd.

"Yes Mrs. Davis. We just got one from the Oasis cruise liner. She is in port and wondered if you wished to continue your cruise."

There was nothing left for me here so I just nodded.

"Excellent. Shall I book you out." again I nodded.

"Very well just sign here Mrs. Davis." Which I did scribble out my name, it wasn't very legible except the last name. Claire had not been much better.

"I'll inform the cruise ship that you will be arriving soon."

I went back to my room that I had used for months wondering if there was anything I wanted to keep. When I stepped in front of the mirror and saw Claire I told her to pack as we would leave and watched as she packed her suitcase and makeup case. When I looked down I saw her ashes in my hand and reluctantly put them into the suitcase in my hands. I didn't remember grabbing her suitcases but I must have. Thinking it was probably best to take these down first before grabbing my own stinky suitcase I left the room. A porter grabbed my cases at the end of the hall and helped me to load them into the waiting taxi outside.

I was in a daze all the way to the ship. As I saw it come into view I looked to the window where Claire was and told her that we would be on our cruise once again. The trip passed quickly and occasionally I would look down as see that I was once again dressed like Claire. At least I looked nice. More importantly I felt pretty on a level I can't describe. I knew it was wrong and that even more something was nagging at me that something else was wrong but when I looked into a reflection and saw Claire I was so happy that it didn't matter.

The ship came into view long before we reached the harbor. If your thinking that it was Oasis of the seas or one of the other really big Oasis, your wrong. Enchantment of the Seas is really owned by Royal Caribbean but it has been slanged as Oasis cruises for awhile, at least that is what I vaguely remember the first taxi telling us so long ago. We had originally be on Empress of the Seas but this one would do nicely.

At the dock, no that does not do it justice. The harbour was pretty much filled with Enchantment and I had no idea how the much much bigger Oasis class ships docked here. There was a simple loading ramp down with a covered walkway. Due to possibly low tide the walkway was not steep and the taxi driver brought up my bags for me as I stepped aboard the ship. Before you think otherwise I did pay him with what cash that was in my purse. He tipped his hat nicely and before I could turn around another man wearing ships livery picked up my bags while I handed over the document to continue my cruise to the purser.

It was only then I could walk up the walkway into the ship proper. Oh I guess most of you don't know but when I ship is in port they have a walkway/gangplank/ extended elevator that connects to the ship. There is usually a sorta platform at the end with a yellow line around it. This signifies it as being part of the ship itself. You board there, hand in tickets or whatnot. It is only on the ship itself that you get a greeting and are shown to your cabin, if you just boarded. The ships usually take on supplies, if they need at the port as well through a much much bigger hatch that can fold down onto dock. They drive large forklifts with supplies. Fuelling is also done at same time for bigger ships through a fuelling pump that dwarfs airplane refuelling by several times.

It may not have been a long trip up the gangplank onto ship but doing so in high heels made my feet hurt. Of course I was asked if I had anything to declare. The yeoman was there with my suitcase I just pointed. As soon as it was put on the convenient table I carefully removed Claire from her spot in the suitcase.

"Oh my Lord. These barbarians did it again. This is your partner's ashes is it not." I was carefully and loving holding her ashes and just nodded.

"...Davis can I put these into a nice ceramic vase for you, compliments of the ship of course." I didn't catch the first bit so I just nodded. I already knew what was going to happen to them. It had been her dying wish, when she was still able to talk, to have her ashes put into our yacht. I had agreed to her demand, anything for my heart. She left me holding Claire and was not gone long before she returned with a very nice white with slight waves to it vase. She almost pried my hands from bag to place the bag carefully into the vase. It seemed so unfair that my beloveds ashes fit into the large vase with room to spare. There should have been more somehow.

Holding the vase close to my chest I was lead weeping to my new cabin. The purser, who had been so nice for now, set about putting the clothes from the suitcase into the cabin drawers and closet. I didn't pay attention to any of this. When she was done she put the suitcase into the bottom of closet. I didn't hear her leave.

It was sometime later that my cabin door was knocked on. The lights were off and I was still holding Claire to my chest. I said, groggily, enter.

Dr Lawson phd..etc etc.. entered my room for the first time. She was the ships resident psychiatrist/ medical doctor. Apparently my lack of being with it boarding had concerned the Purser and she, and I can't fault her for it, notified the doctor.

It did not take the doctor long to notice my fugue like state, which is not uncommon among those with recent tragic loss, she gave me some small white pills to take, antidepressants, and helped me to put the vase into a special holder that she had brought along to clamp it to a table that didn't look it but was bolted to ship.

As the antidepressants started to kick in I noticed that she was referring to me as Claire all the time.

"I know what it looks like doctor," and I really did know that I was a dead ringer for Claire as the fog lifted and I realized that I did indeed look like a woman and had gone along with it.
"My name is Douglas. Claire was my.." and she stopped me right there.

"Claire show me your id from purse please." I did so without thinking of it. Reach into purse and pull out wallet open it up. Which I soon realized was a mistake again. It was not my wallet.

"Now see here,"and she showed me the wallet passport license with all of Claire's info on it." You are Claire Alise Davis." She paused for me to somehow accept this.

"No no there is some sort of.." I got hugged by the Doctor and into my ear she said"I know it is hard to accept but Claire he is gone now. You have to understand that."

"But but.." I mumbled before I burst into tears. She let me cry on her shoulder. What is it and women letting you cry out on shoulders? I won't bore you with the details of that first week. It was not an experience I am all that willing to go into.

I was medically checked my hormore levels were low so I got some shots along with vitamins, antidepressants, and was made to eat full meals twice a day. Every day the doctor would come and I would have to repeat that I was Claire Alise Davis a number of times to her satisfaction.

I may have been in a fugue state but I am not stupid. I realized that somehow it was believed that I had died, meaning Douglas, and that I was Claire. Forgetting my stinky suitcase may have been the worst thing I did or the best. For the cruise Claire had packed a number of dresses, including heels..all high heels! Obviously I had to wear the clothes and do my best to be Claire for the cruise. I did not like the idea of having to be declared insane. With my fortune and Claire's at stake that would be a very bad thing. Yes I am paranoid!

When she examined me in the room she had me remove my dress and bra but not panties. I also got weighed. I was lost a lot of weight. At 98 pounds I was even badly underweight for Claire who, at her best was 122 pounds. If she had had me remove the panties things would have been so much simpler.

But that didn't happen. I was given weekly shots of what I can only assume was estrogen, along with a cream to spread on my hips and breasts daily. I seriously thought about squeezing the tube into the head (toilet) but for some reason I just did as she told me. She believed that I had been so malnourished that my body had used up what little fat it could find leading to my anorexic type state.

Rather than cause problems I just went along with it. At first I just didn't see the point to the cream. Put on rub in wash hands put on my makeup and make myself look presentable. Eat the meals delivered to my cabin and go for a walk around the ship with the yeoman daily.

For the first month nothing much happened. I cried a lot while watching videos of Claire and myself on the tv from my or Claire's phone. I also found myself trying to copy any movement she made or how she talked to help with my current predicament. I was sure once I was home it would not be a big deal to go back to being me.

Towards the end of the second month I was quite thankful for that cream and ended up using a bit more that I should. The itching drove me nuts when I didn't use it. The doctor was happy I was regaining my figure, her words not mine, as well as some weight.

Yes I developed some hips and breasts. I wasn't blind. I did not quite fill the cups of my bra by the end of the third month but there was also not a lot of room either. My skin was softer and I was beginning to really enjoy the nighties and silks of my clothes. At first I didn't use the slips much but I did when I realized what they were for. If you wear a skirt or dress wear a slip. The name is a dead giveaway as to why.

I got used to be called Claire, even had a few arguments with some people on board. Being treated as second class, or less than intelligent cause your female got me mad more than once. The doctor didn't leave alone much. I was checked on often. It got to the point that sometimes I really believed I was Claire...almost. Putting on makeup, doing my hair, getting my nails done, walking in high heels all became almost an afterthought.

She still gave me shots every week in either my butt cheek or arm. I swear some people thought I was a drug addict with the amount of bandaids I wore on my arm. I was not just idle though. To distract myself I spent large amounts of time exploring the ship, talking with the engineers, who I might add were more than happy to show me their engines. A little smile and it was like they were putty in my hands.

I learned quite a bit about ship operation from the bridge crew, more so the electronics and how to of using charts, site glasses, even nav systems, once I told them I was working on a yacht I planned to sail. This of course also got the interest of the captain, who being British, was more than happy to tell me all about his days as a young sailor in the UK on sailing ships.

Dressing up in my one black skin tight one shoulder dress for a dinner at the captain's table in the main restaurant during a special dinner and concert was ...less than fun. I didn't like how good I ended up looking in that dress nor the amount of time I spent, and money, in the salon to get ready for it. The "good" doctor was also at the table. The captain, who's name was James but ship protocol required him to be addressed as captain at all times, was quite knowledgeable and his wife and daughter, didn't mind us talking in depth about ships and sailing.

As funny as it may sound the ship plans that he had thankfully printed out for me from my phone were expanded on the table during what should have been a fancy dinner and evening. We did have the dinner, and watched the live show, which was really good, but spent the rest of the evening going over the plans Claire and I had so meticulously worked on. It wasn't just me and the captain either. His wife, also from the UK got into it just as well.

The following days we, being the captain, second officer, chief engineer, assistant navigator, captain's wife, chief engineers wife.. may have used ships systems and stuff to go over and modify the plans to better accommodate some things as well as come up with a set of very nice blueprints for her. I offered to pay, got refused more than once. I got the impression that everyone on board, crew wise, was quite happy to get a cheerful captain. Something about boosting moral.

For the last night on board ship before they would dock at the port off Vancouver, I splurged a bit and got a new dress. I figured it was my last night as being Claire so why not. All of the 'team' showed up for a sort of get well/send off party to wish me luck in building the ship. They had my address so I suspect that I may see one or two of them when they take vacation from ship. Oh yes it is mandatory for them to take vacation from ship.

How I would explain that I Douglas was really that cute girl from the cruise was beyond me. But I figured it shouldn't be too bad. I mean once I was gone from ship and no longer got those shots, just loose a bunch of weight to loose the breasts and hips and I can be a guy again.

Yes I had fully planned to return to my life and live it.

It was a simple plan and should have been easy to follow through on. At the farewell, which, yes was tearful, I left the ship along with all of the other people on board. Enchanted would spend a week in dock for some maintenance and refitting of stores before taking off on another long cruise. In terms of cruise ships she is considered old, but to me she always looked new.

I have a photo of all of us that worked on the blueprints, or otherwise partied slightly in a home style way. low music, much talking and storytelling and lots of boose. That picture is in a frame in a special place. There is some signatures on it as well.

Many years later when Enchanted was decommissioned and destined for scrap I received a heavy bronze plaque in the mail. On it was every captain's name along with the ships name and call sign.
Beside James's name was also Honorary C C Davis. Which meant Honorary Captain Claire Davis.

Blueprints in hand I left the ship through a line of ships crew who all tipped their hats as I left. It was really nice of them and I thanked them all. I could have done without the white roses. While I insisted I could carry my bags I was never let too and the black Lincoln waiting for me didn't seem to be a taxi or a limo. I had no idea who had set that up but I suspect it was James.

While it had a nice leather interior, that bare skin seems to glue too; ouch, it wasn't all that fancy. No mini bar or tv or music. Pleasant ride of course. I have never been to Vancouver. And apparently still haven't as the airport is not in Vancouver but Richmond? The joke I heard about Kelowna international airport ..two gates...and they numbered them had me giggling.

I had kinda wanted to see some of the shipbuilding places but, to my dismay they are on Vancouver Island...which is not where Vancouver is. I mean really who thinks up these names? The Vancouver airport is in Richmond and Vancouver itself is not on Vancouver Island! In a way I was glad to arrive at Vancouver Airport, which laughingly has a Richmond airport sign not far from it.

I totally expected to be waiting in long lines to get tickets and then waiting for a plane that was delay due to having rain on runway or some other odd thing. Not trying to be mean but some of the stuff I was told that day about naming and locations had me more than glad to board a plane, any plane as fast as possible.

One simple ticket, along with passport, three hundred dollars later I was put on a plane almost as soon as I could clear customs. Yes for some reason customs is AFTER you get ticket in airport and are about to board plane. I had some trouble with Claire's vase, I would have hit the guy if he had so much as stuck a pin in her bag. Thankfully after scraping the vase and finding nothing I was let through with no real trouble.

Which was the second time I should have noticed that my brain was sending me little red flags that something was odd. Not once did anyone ask for a death certificate of, well me. It was just bleep, read screen, my condolences mrs Davis and on my way. Same thing had happened on ship.

The trip home on plane was about 2 hours, more or less. If you have been on one plane ride they are pretty much all the same take off, get up use bathroom, go back to seat, get scrunched into your seat, get offered non complimentary items at high prices. I found out years ago that headphones from my old mp3 player work just fine on planes. Watched the movie Parker. It may be old but the outfit that Jennifer Lopez wears at one point, print satin skirt and a satin short sleeve blouse I found to be very attractive and I found myself wanting one. I thought it would look good on me and fell asleep at that point.

The guy next to me nudged me awake as the plane landed so I was more or less awake as we got read y to leave plane. Winnipeg airport is one of those you go through rather quickly and get bags just as quickly with little fuss. Getting a taxi is a little harder as they are not allowed to part at the doors, the stand is opposite and they are required to wait there. That is a good thing as people are not always paying attention when picking up other people.

There is a couple of options in Winnipeg. One is called a park n ride. You take a city bus from airport to where you parked your car. This is a good thing as the lot we had planned to park in was much cheaper than the rest of the parking around airport. Her mother could have picked us up I am sure but since it was already evening and her eyesight is not the best at night I just went to the car itself.

The car was still there and still plugged in. It's an electric conversion car that someone had gone through a lot of trouble before it was finished. We got it at an estate sale. The car is a 1981 dodge omni 024 awd with t top converted to electric. We were told that almost none of the options that were on the car were ever offered in Canada but here it was with all original parts. There is a 110 plug that can be plugged in like a block heater. It only tops up the batteries as needed but never more than 95% of full charge. This somehow extends battery life. It is all beyond me really.

Oh where did I store and park a car plugged in for seven months? Paid for montly out of account?

Storage locker. Not in the parking lot. In the storage locker the car is small enough to fit quite nicely and since it is a fast back hatch plenty of room for suitcases. Car in hand, and a stop to cancel lease with key drop off, and I was on my way home.

I don't live in Winnipeg, we wanted a water front property that doesn't flood regularly. We could have gone and bought a house on the Red easily enough but it does occasionally flood even with the floodway. The side river that we bought property on is actually deep if not very wide. At one point it opens up into a sort of resort type lake size area that is quite popular and totally unexpected if you don't know where it is. But it does connect to the Red river and eventually Lake Winnipeg, Or you can go south down to grand forks if you really want too.

Our plan was to eventually get the yacht hauled to thunder bay and launch from there eventually sailing through to the ocean. It was our retirement plan for the future. The guages on the car are mostly fake. The gas guage is actually charge level. The rpm is just an approximation of what it should be. The mph, ,not km, speedo is electronic instead of cable driven. The heater, which I turned on, is electric as well and heats very good. Drains batteries a bit in cold weather though. Oil is actually real. The motor on the car uses a pressured oil system for bearings and the temp gauge monitors the air cooled motor.

The one thing we had lucked out on when we bought the property was that it was paved roads all the way to our driveway. The driveway we had had poured concrete done. Being late at night I drove into the garage and parked beside my truck. I was pretty sure that I would need to get some fuel tomorrow for it as I had run it pretty empty before we left. We had done the same to Claire's suv. The hybrid was not my pick. I would have preferred she had gotten something made locally but the hyundia had few problems so far.

Then again she had not been all that thrilled with my "ugly" truck. I admit freely that it doesn't look as good as some of the newer ones but it was not meant to be. This power wagon was a duplicate to one used in a 1980's tv show. Burnt orange paint and all. It rode rough though. The suspension barely moved most of the time and your teeth could rattle on pavement. Off road on the other hand she was smooth.

Being out in the country we had used her more than a few times in snowed in conditions that left others stranded. Our area was more suited for people to have summer cabins that actual homes. Ours was one of the bigger properties by the simple fact it was at a curve in the river itself. The curve spread out around the end of our property due to the large granite slab that we were on. Not a lot of trees due to minimal soil but we had paid to have the end of the slab going down to water cut into slabs, some of which grace every counter and table in house as well as the kitchen floor.

It also means that all of our buildings will never move as they are anchored into the concrete, well except the quanset. Originally the property had a small older house on the roads edge and a dilapidated garage. We saved as much of the wood from both buildings while our timber framed house with it's thick ten inch walls was built. The house itself is a single floor design with the two outside walls holding bedrooms with bathrooms. All close to the same size. In the middle of each of the four bedrooms was mechanical rooms. In the middle of house was the kitchen and living room areas. The back wall faced the wood shop, and then quanset. But you had easy view of the river. The roof of the woodshop as well as house had solar panels to produce our own electricity. Any excess was put into grid and we got paid for it.

Not a bad setup really. The back wall of the wood shop held a battery storage center to allow us to have a full days charge. This became necessary after first winter when power went out during a heavy snowstorm for a day or two. The small generator we had barely kept the fridge running. Thankfully our house doesn't get cold fast or hot either. But we do have a wood stove. This is partly for the smell but mostly for the heat. We used it to even cook during that blizzard. That blackened Dutch oven sits there beside the stove for that purpose.

Some of the neighbours thought we were wasting money putting on a tin roof and building the wood shop where it is the next summer but since then we have never had a problem. Unlike some neighbours. The wood shop is at an angle and the roof is odd since it is mostly slanted on one side. This was to get the best possible sunlight at any time of year as it faces directly south. Unlike our house which is mostly se facing roof.

Entering the house proper I expected to see our cat Kittens come charging for attention. I had forgotten that she is with Claire's mother for the last seven months. We had offered to let her stay here, which she has before many times in one of the rooms. But she did not want to leave her home in Winnipeg itself.

After putting my makeup onto the vanity I put everything else I had from my suitcase into the wash basket. I would separate and wash them later. I was just too tire. A trip in bathroom for a nice long relaxing bath was heavenly. I almost fell asleep in the bath but got out in time. A bit of moisturizer on my skin followed by the cream on my breasts, hips, and but to prevent that infernal itch. This was followed by pulling back the sheets on my side of bed after grabbing a fresh nightgown to wear and I was soon asleep in dreamland.

Waking up fresh but very lonely in our bed it was no surprise that I was in tears. They seemed to come so easy these days. I wondered if they would ever stop. I was a little surprised that I had slipped into a nightgown to sleep. I mean I was home so I should have just slept in my underwear like usual. Shrugging it off it was time to get dressed. It wasn't like I had anything in the house to eat.

Half asleep I found myself sitting at the vanity with half of my makeup on before I realized what I had done. Lipstick in hand I carefully but it down before reaching for my drawer to put on a pair of boxers. They felt so weird and uncomfortable after wearing panties for so long. My shirts, a normal daily occurance for many years almost hurt to put them on over my sensitive nipples.

Jeans were a non issue. But not for the reason you may think. I could not get them over my hips and they were tight on my thighs. All that walking on ship, a daily exercise by the "good" doctor, must have given muscles. I even tried a pair of Claires but while I could get them over my hips it felt like they would explode around my thighs. Her pants were even worse.

after the pant fiasco I was scared to try shorts. Mine certainly didn't fit and Claire had tended to get the rather sexy cut of jean shorts. In the mirror there was Claire in all her glory, minus a bit of makeup looking like a country girl in a mans shirt half her breast hanging out.

Nearly thirty minutes later I left the house in a sombre mood. My return to normal was not going well. Here I was in a blasted skirt and blouse, with another pair of heels and purse, makeup all done with jewellery going shopping! I was so embarrassed. There was no way I was going around here. A trip to Winnipeg for some food and clothes was in order.

Some hours later I returned with food and wearing new clothes. Not the ones I had set out for. Shopping as a woman I had looked at a store window and saw something I just had to go try on. During the plane ride I had watched that Parker movie. In it she wore that white short sleeve silk blouse and a white satin skirt with rose flower pattern on it. Well that dang store had it in window. Inside was not just that one but more in different colors. The store also had a lot of nice other skirt suits, skirts, blouses, shoes all high heels, purses even some lingerie.

I admit I lost my head in all the satiny silking feeling clothing and kinda spent more than I should. There was barely enough room in car for food for a day or two. I also put in an order for our usual six month supply to be delivered every month.

Arriving home I was so depressed even though I felt so ...good in my white blouse and skirt outfit. I knew that it was really me in the mirror and I looked deliciously gorgeous. At the grocery store I didn't have to do much more than point at what I wanted and when I wanted it delivered. Being a beautiful woman has this power that is seriously addictive. The women of the store were seriously not impressed and even offended.

After parking I grabbed the food bags, I knew I should return the outfits tomorrow but I seriously didn't want too. When Kittens came bounding up and purred rubbing my hose encased legs I didn't give it a second though and picked up our little girl petting her and maybe muttering cutesy nonsense. I realized I had missed the little furball quite a bit.

"Ahem" uh oh. That's right if Kittens is here that also means...

"Uh. Hi mom!" Claire's mother had told me to call her mom a long time ago. My own parents long gone due to a faulty gas furnace. No they didn't die in a fire. Carbon monoxide poisoning. I had barely survived at the time myself. Thankfully my drafty bedroom was farthest from furnace. The carbon monoxide alarm, which had never done anything, battery had died that night. Just really bad luck.

"Young lady," uh oh I had kinda forgot about how I was Claire now," You should not be out shopping and where is Douglas?"

"I ..I...I am Claire.. I mean I was... am ...Douglass...Claire...she ..she..died ..and .." I just bust into tears and dropped to floor sobbing. Kittens mewwed and mewwed pushing at my hand to pet her, the poor thing.

It was late at night, I couldn't tell you the time because I don't think either of us cared a bit. A fair amount of the homemade wine had been consumed by all three of us. Oh yeah I should mention after I first started explaining Mom called in a friend of hers. The honorable Edward Throm. He's a judge in the city that lives close by. By close I didn't realize that the the weird looking estate cabin down the end of the road was his. Its glass and wood. Rustic modern he calls it. And he likes making wine. Or to be more specific Brandy.

Its uh rather potent stuff, and considering how much of a lightweight I am now. I was very plastered. Then again I think all three of us were. Singing wasn't that a party that somehow lead to what do you do with a drunken sailor and two other songs I don't quite remember in whatever key with my blouse off in just my satin camisole kinda telling. No idea what happened to the bra but I vaguely remember showing how real they were.

In a sense the "good" doctor had followed what she thought was post trauma protocol for someone who was in deep grief, had all but brain washed me. Legally that is. She was not really at fault. Ultimately it was the hospital that had assumed that Douglas had been the one that passed away, when I showed up dressed like Claire, and had filed my death certificate electronically to the ship, that passed that on to the rest of the electronic world.

The following week was spents with doctors, first to medically prove who I really was, dna testing as well as hormonal testing as baseline, then with psychologists, to prove that yes I was sane, undo some of the brainwashing, and to establish how I wished to continue.

Ultimately it was decided that, legally I would change my name to Claire Davis, Claire Alena Davis, with mom's approval, and continue to live as I am. My unfortunate thing about pants would, hopefully, solve itself in time. I was placed on an anti depressant, as well as a regular hormone patch to keep me stable at more or less normal levels. My testicles had suffered damage and it was decided it would be best to remove them. I refused. I got overruled.

There is a gravestone for Claire Alise Davis, It says "to my heart" on it. It's in a private mausoleum and the party involved was small. There was Sherry, Claire's right hand, as well as Tom, my best man at wedding, the judge, her mother and two of her cousins. All of which had to be explained about how a twin happened to be there standing in black skirt suit.

The only will Claire had had was to have everything transferred to me and for her ashes to be put into the yacht. I fully expected repercussions of some type. But the explanation that my appearance and name were my way for permanently honouring my dead wife somehow smoothing things over. I wont say they were a little mad and hurt, we all were.

I told Sherry she could take over the company. The cow turned around with a smile on her face and told me point blank" No way boss. Your gonna have to do the smooching!"

That pretty much meant that a couple days a week I went into work in a skirt suit, or one of my favourite satin skirt and blouse outfits. To meet and greet current, and new clients. Turns out as a female I have a good nack for it. The business has grown. Sherry pretty much manages everything else. I have been doing my best to get her to attend meetings and take over the business but she is very stubborn and keeps refusing.

This has cut into my preferred time on the yacht. At home during the winter month's I get to do work on the yacht. The clients prefer to spend most of their time down elsewhere during the cold months of Manitoba winters. Works well for me. I have one or two meetings a week, some of them doing stuff that boosting employee morale. Throwing the office Christmas party and giving out bonus checks being one of them. It was something that Claire had always done personally.

Today is one of the days where I can stay at home. Get up out of bed, have breakfast, feed Kittens and Scraps, a stray that had wandered into stay. He is spayed and loves to accompany me as I do work in the yard. I had found him huddled underneath a pile of well I guess to be compost leaves and stuff. He was a scared little kitten. Kittens hissed at him for awhile before she realized he was a play thing. It took much cooing and food being delivered day after day to the pile before I coaxed him out and took him inside.

While Kittens it s a mostly white long haired cat, Scraps is a black and white male cat with large paws. He also has less than good claw control. Even in cold weather I couldn't get by with panty hose for awhile as he ruined every single pair. I still have occasional bleed on arms and legs, just little pokes that heal well enough.

The pile? oh I should explain that. Remember how I said that the waters edge had this large stone that is bigger than my property but is, apparently, not bedrock? Well to go from a ten foot above high water, aka during flood season, to water level at lowest a lot of rock had to be removed. Property being sold by developers also love to strip off almost all useable soil and sell it.

Our lot is actually sort of a triangle, smaller at the road edge tapering out much wider at rivers edge. Originally the old house and garage was below road level. Using blocks of broken stone we built up the driveway and edged it with stone to be sloping down to the road. It's quite stable. Lots and lots of crushed stone and stone dust in there. There is a wall with iron gate along the ditch on our property line. That was also set at road level. There is some jack pine trees down there. Our house was built more towards the middle of the lot which is quite a bit higher than the road. There is the semi basement that is buried were some of the plumbing is. That tapers off at the back it is on the rock itself. After that the rock was all cut up, some of it sold quite well I am told, going down towards the edge where the patio is. During flood season some water comes on it but very little. There is a stone edge to that with lights. There is also steps going down to the next level. During summer this level is dry and clear. It mostly acts as a dock except during low season. Off of that it kinda drops down about six feet or so depending on spot. Good for fishing off of. This area is quite wide spanding half our lot.

Also cut out of stone is the boathouse/dock area. The boathouse was built half out of natural rock half masonry with wood and steel to hold up roof covered in more of the rock. We had so much of it why not use it. The dock is a floating dock that is anchored with huge chains. During flood season it comes into the boathouse. The land slopes up from there. half of it is natural edge half was cut out of stone. Above all that mostly along the patio edge the stone was cut about two feet deep going up to the house. This was so we could fill in the area with soil. the front of house area beside the driveway was originally a big open pit going to the trees on edge. Near the boathouse is some spruce trees as well as on the other side of patio. Its okay as nothing grows near them.

Spruce trees drop needles, alot, it leaves a large amount of tanic acid in soil that prevents much from growing well. Jack Pine on the other hand are not as bad. Provided the ground gets enough water and sunlight grass will grow.

Claire and I had requested fill but nothing was happening so after consulting the internet we just put out a sign that let people drop off leaves, and garden waste. Throw that into the "pit" as we called it and it rots turning into compost. Compost is pretty much fertile soil. Do this for a couple of years and well it is getting there. Our front yard for years was somewhat stinky water choked with rattail weeds. Now its a low spot that some grass actually grows on. The back yard is pretty much the same. The woodshop was built after and is level with the house. We had just enough left over stone to build the base for shop.

The quanset is above the boathouse slope. We dragged the ship up there and eventually will probabbly do the greased way thing to launch it. Our lot is officially seven acres. The eventual lawn will look quite nice. There is the house in middle that is not exactly small. On the one side is the garage/shop where my tools are kept for repairing things as well as the Kubota. It's not a large one but not the smallest. It has a tiller, for eventual garden we had planned, snowblower ( use that all winter long), there is a bucket and lawnmower for it. I use the bucket from time to time to move the drop off leaves and garden waste. The sawdust from shop goes into the compost. For the woodmizer, that Claire was not thrilled about at first, i have a used forklift for moving the logs. It loses hydraulic fluid somewhere but there is never any puddles. Smokes a bit for a diesel. That is parked in the quanset.

For winter is the not entirely legal, but not illegal, double barrel wood stove. Since the quanset is made of non burnable material a chimney stickouts out of what was a window thing. The door is a kind of flap on the small end and a sort of big flap on the other end. It is not exactly the warmest thing and required a bit of taping and piles of compost to get rid of drafts. But with the stove burning merrily away on a warm day it is just warn enough to work i there during winter. The sawdust from the bandsaw mill is gathered in this contraption that Tom had made. It compresses into saw dust logs that we can burn. They didnt burn well at first till I made a modification adding pitch from both the spruce trees and pine trees. There is these small stainless steel tubes that go into the trees and the sap runs out onto outside of tree. Gather it up in summer, mix the two together over a fire and let dry. The crystal clumps go into the contraption and now the logs hold together better and burn quite well and long.

Near the patio we have a natural stone pit for bonfires. I should mention that not far from that is one of the spots for our geothermal system. The other is sorta off the side of the pit in front. Heating and cooling for house all in one. The system for it is actually not that bad fits quite well in the half basement section. The hvac system is above the bedrooms in the mechanical rooms. Two filters for whole house.

The woodshop is heated with a boiler system. Open flames and wood ...yeah not a great idea. So the brick building on the other side of battery building is the boiler room. There is a seperate door for it. The battery and electrical system is vented outside and has a small heater that keeps it warm. The shop is mainly heated by the underfloor pipe system. It can get a bit warm. A wood shop produces a lot of scrap that is piled into the boiler room. I open the door for scrap shovel in a load into boiler, that is checked every year, and close it up. It is not a steam boiler.

Btw if you ever modify the rivers edge your supposed to put a request in, in writing for approval BEFORE you do work. The hundred grand fine for what we did was not fun to pay. Even though we didnt change where the water runs except for some of it coming inland on our property during flood season. it was still a ecological change that could have affected some natural wildlife or something.

Honestly I dont see a problem we have owls that love to nest on our boathouse. Any other insect or wildlife wasnt there in the solid granite anyways. We certainly didn't find anything when cutting with the saws. Oh yeah there is this special chainsaw blade that was used with water from our natural well, go figure, to cool it. The stone dust from that never entered the river. Or at least very little did.

Between the shop and quanset is where we had dug down for original basement before we moved it. There is a bit of groundwater that builds up in it so it was unsuitable. But the cistern, as we call it, is great for watering the lawn. Or will be when it gets there. There is also enough in there to act as a emergency fire system. The cap for that is about three feet thick wall that was the final edge near the rivers edge. Big thing that the guys used a crane to put in place. They also drilled these holes and inserted some treated steel into the holes with epoxy so it should never cave in.

This summer I had something else built between the house and wood shop. A covered walkway with overhead electric heater. It keeps the walkway that has openable windows all along it just this side of freezing in winter. Sewage is handled by the municipality. No main water supply but we got sewage. Go figure.

This being one of the days I can work in shop I dress in my work clothes. A knee lenght jean skirt, with a top that looks like a blouse and sweater but isnt and head off to shop. Kittens hates the noise but Scraps loves to stay close by. I don't often make noise really. During winter I spend most of the time cutting out frames according to plans and then planing them down since I do not have a ship saw to cut bevel edges. Power planers are nice for some people but I like the feel of using hand planes. Hand planes are also easier on my nails.

On the warm days I dress up in my ski pants and a heavy sweater. In the quaset I set a fire and when warm enough cut up more oak for planks, frames, stretchers, knees, whatever I figure ill need. The yachts hull is mostly back into good shape now frame wise. Just a few more frames and some knees and floors mostly. Then its deck beams to be cut. The outside edge would normally be planked with boards and caulked with either pitch or compound put in seams then coats and coats of paint, primer and filler.

I have a pile of 3/8 marine plywood that will be used instead. I know it's not traditional but I am not going to change my mind on it. Ever. The hull is going to be a hybrid hull. Plywood with fiberglass, or more properly s-glass and marine epoxy slow cure. The transom and stern post I am not so sure about.

The keelson, since it doesn't really have external keel, well a wood one there is the lead thing that weights tons...literally! Anyway the keelson as it is called is actually teak cut down from a much larger old keel that was salvaged out of the water with very little damage. A few bandsaw blades later, teak is very hard on saw blades of any type, a bit of resawing off the bad parts, there was some rot but surprisingly there was just enough for the keelson including bow post. It ...doesn't burn very well.

Ok half the boat it came from had caught on fire and sunk leaving it very charred then somewhat rotted in rear of boat. It was in the bottom of the river here for gods knows how many years. A diver had been fooling around and brought it up for us. The rest of what was a ship of some type is around the yard somewhere. Surprisingly some of the original fittings on ship were made of brass. They have been melted by a local amateur backyard foundry into some pieces I will use in ship.

Today is one of the days where I am using up the last of the oak on current frame, which for those in the know is called an intermediate frame, when I get a buzz. After dropping phone twice I manage to call back Tom who I have not seen in a few years since the funeral service. Surprisingly he is actually at the front door of house. I tell him I'm in the shop and wait for him. The crunch crunch of snow reminding me I have not cleaned the front of shop in awhile.

"Hey" he says as he comes in without knocking.

"Hey" what? We are buds, or were, not sure at moment. "Wassup"

"I .. Just .. .it's Martha." oh oh Tom don't look so good.

"Close the...crap" Yep Scraps is now outside sniffing and spraying the three small trees sticking up from snow. A mer and I let him back inside where he promptly goes over to my mess of woodshavings on floor, rolls in it for a few minutes then curls up and sleeps. Kittens are soo...

Tom is by the little used mitre saw looking weird. I mean not weird weird but weird for him.

"Sorry for not coming by and stuff but things.."

"I get it. My being Claire has kinda freaked you o.."

"What? No! Gods no! Nothing about that. Well maybe a little but I know your still you just a little different package. No it's Martha. She ..she..."

"Hates me?" I though we had got along great.

"I doubt she even remembers who you are anymore." That...don't sound good.

"She ...has Alzheimer's. It's at what they call stage 6 now. I had to put her into into.."I don't know what stage 6 means but I have heard about Alzheimer's. It's not pretty. The brain dies bit by bit. Later stages are worse. From sounds of it he put her into a nursing home which means it is not long. Shades of Claire's cancer. I know why he is here.

Tom was brought up as a man's man. It's more of a Manitoba thing. He can't cry. I know he needs it and how to get him too. Unfortunately it means firing up the stove and mill. I won't get the hatch open otherwise too dang cold. If I fire up the stove might as well mill some wood. It will help clear his mind.

"Hope your coat is warm enough. It's gonna be a bit nippy in the quanset till the stove gets going."

"I don't know why I am here I just..wait a minute what?"

I put my hand on his shoulder."Let me introduce you to the art of milling dried out oak in cold weather on my toy."

It doesn't take me long to put Scraps back in house after brushing him off with the dog brush. Getting ski pants on, boots, coat, mitts. Tom makes a run to his truck for the ever present Manitoba wood cutter's attire. Flannel shirt. Why this is standard not only here, but across most of Canada I can't tell you. It just seems that if you cut wood outside as a guy you need the stupid thing.

Tom is amazed that the contraption still works and the modification I made with the crystals works better for building a fire. A few shovels of wood plane shavings, some leftover bark that is all around mill, a slab or two and a few logs loaded up and not long after that double barrel stove starts to give off enough heat.

One I showed him how to cut and load the logs, they have to be trimmed a little with chainsaw to fit onto mill. Well they are not straight. We get a few cut up into usable material for frames. By the time we have sawn a few logs the hatch on the ground near outside that was original to ship and not in bad shape is thawed enough to open. Reaching inside and up to side I pull out the 2 liter pop bottle that seems to be full of water.

"Is that.."

"Yep"

"Oh boy. You got some mix?"

"errr..."

After a trip to the local store, while i had cleared off some of the frames rough cut with chainsaw from the patterns I had made in shop before. Tom returns with some plastic red cups, three bottles of pepsi, orange crush, and I think it's grape crush.

We had a pretty good time in the Quanset talking about the old days. It didn't take too long before he started letting go. The tears and the hardship. Seems about the time I was dealing with Claire's dying in hospital he and Martha found out why she was having memory problems at doctor.

Early stages are not that bad and with medication can last for years. Most of the time. For Martha the medications made her sick half the time and didn't really slow things down for her. After dealing with things before, during , and after the funeral it has surprisingly been about five years now. I look up at the ship and realize that I am taking time but since it is all by myself I have not done that bad.

In Martha's case she was not doing bad until last summer when she started to forget people and places. The Alzheimer's had progressed rapidly despite the medication. The similarity to cancer is astounding. For some it takes ages. Others it goes by quick. With Tom sobbing I gather that Martha is not long for this world.

Tom spent that night at my place in a spare room. And quite a few nights after whenever he had bad days of visiting her. That summer Martha was buried as I wore that damnable black suit again. Their children and grandchildren took it just as hard and the wake social, it's a Manitoba thing where we all get together after a funeral, eat, some get drunk. Talk and mingle at someone's place or a hall. Usually church type music and a priest resides over the whole thing.

Before anyone gets any idea's Tom and Martha were friends about twenty years older than both Claire and I. We are just friends and will never be more than friends. I mean we are both guys...more or less. I may not look like one but I am still a guy down there. Surgery has been suggested, multiple times, by doctors but I refuse. No reason for it. I like being able to pee without squatting or whatever thank you very much.

I did my best to keep Tom busy and out of trouble. Together we got all the frames into the yacht as well as beam shelves, knees, and deck beams. It was Tom that figured out it would be best to turn it over, without the lead keel, to start putting on the hull itself.

There was a bit of trial and error in how to best place the plywood that didn't seem to want to cooperate before James from the ship showed up on his holiday's. With his help we got the first sheets into place. They are epoxied to the main frames but not intermediate frames. Each sheet got a coating of epoxy before it was attached to hull with annoying brass screws. Flat head screws that pissed me off more than a few times before I got the trick of putting them in place.

After James showed up, every other month one of the other gang from the ship would show up to give a hand. Let's face it putting on full sheets of marine plywood with wet epoxy and s-glass between each layer is more than a two person job. The special mix epoxy was something only I handled and there was barely enough to go between the three layers of sheeting. Oh yes she is not a thin hull at all nearly an inch thick. She is both very solid and flexible at the same time. The very outside layer looks like traditional wood planks. Mostly because I laminated some of the original wood of the ship in strips above water line and left them wood colored. Under the water line she is covered with some epoxy layers and fairing compound, which is more epoxy mixed with different fibers. These were donations from more than one captain of cruise ships, and not all of the from same line.

The transom ended up being layered the same way. I should mention that on the main frames the second layer sheets were riveted over with copper rivets to hold the hull to frames. These are sealed in with epoxy as well. The final hull turned out to be quite fair and sleek. She has antifoul bottom paint. More suited to sea water than fresh but since she will eventually make the ocean one day that was fine

We had a bit of a party of people over to flip her right side up and get her onto her keel. My mill got put to use on whatever trees were available close by to make up the frame and points needed to get her flipped over. I didn't mind much as much of the timber can be resawn to do in the interior.

My house was disaster the next day as it was filled with people half hungover with clothing randomly tossed here and there and a few more empty pop bottles. Everclear is some nasty stuff, along with Ed's Brandy and a few other bottles that ended up on my wood bench in stop as a temporary bar. Scraps and Kittens spent the night outside and grossed out of few people with their offerings in the morning. I tried to explain they were only trying to show their love and affection to feed the sick.

I can say this much my yard and a few neighbours yards were free of birds and squirrels, along with some rabbits and I am not sure what the black and white feathers was. There was a lot of them though.
My bedroom was mine alone as I have only a single in it. I had to get rid of the king after a couple of rough weeks a few summers ago. To many memories haunting me.

Tracy is gonna be pissed when she comes to clean.

As soon as I was more or less with it I was back out at the yacht working on bolting down the keel. It was kinda gross as the bedding compound between keel and keelson oozed out all over the place.
That was where Tom found me pulling on the torque wrench tightening down the huge brass bolts for the keel. Months of working every possible weekend as well as some days with my arms on each part of the yacht had given me some of the muscle I had lost during the time of Claires long illness and death.

"Hey"

"Hey"

Unlike a lot of people, Tom never treated my as some delicate female. Though I did get grief from time to time for working in a jean skirt. I have overalls that I sometimes wear but still have issues with pants. I have some and wear them on occasion but they just feel restrictive.

It did not take us all that long working as a team to get the keel bolted in place. While we were doing that Kathy, the Purser from Enchanted, was busy cleaning up the knees. Oh those. well you see for the deck there is usually two knees used, in this case cut from some stumps, that have a natural curve to them. They go from floor to frames as well as deck beams to beam shelf and outer hull.

I call it floor in reference of floor(bottom) of deck beams to beamshelf to frame. You might think it takes up a lot of room. It really doesn't the major supports are usually in walls or ceiling and the others are not as big and hardly noticeable if you build your interior right.

Ed is getting on in years and is quite happy to stoke the fire in stove, pass up brass rivets, or otherwise act as supervisor. Around the outside of the Quanset we have packed up bags of planer shavings, or thicknessor depending on your term. It actually acts as a good insulation. They degrade over time, being paper bags, and become compost. Still eight feet of wood shavings around the outside of the building makes a huge difference in cooler weather. Still freezing cold in dead of winter.

You might think that is excessive but it really isnt. Let's just say that we are no experts to boat building and made more than our fair share of firewood. James's grandson also came buy with a smaller boat to rebuild. He stayed about a year working on it.

Tom eventually moved into my place to occupy his own room. After the death of Martha he couldn't stand staying in the old home. He sold it, cheaply, to his grandson. They still have family dinners there. I have even been to one or two.

However Tom and I are not a couple. He has his demons and I will always remain faithful to Claire. Ed made us sign a legal agreement to such that we can not be considered common law.

This actually worked to my advantage. Rather than fend off employee offerings of eligible men I take Tom as my plus one. Tom does the same with me. It works.

As the years moved on we became an unofficial boatyard, helping to fix whoever's wood boats. It slowed done work on Love but we didn't mind. Most of the time it was replace a rotten piece of wood, or in one case rear section of ship as it got infected with termites. That was a nasty piece of work requiring closing the ship in a large bag of polyethylene plastic while the company worked at soaking the ship down with chemicals to kill the darn things.

They got in from some worm damage to the hull and just kept going in the somewhat warm enviroment. We had to scan every piece of wood on the ship with this nifty thing to find any gallerys, then replace that wood. They didn't get into the keel as it had been heavily treated to linseed oil for years. But most of the frames , deck beams, beam shelves, transom and stern all had to be replaced. To be safe we burned all the wood in bonfires.

Needless to say we started coating Love in linseed oil after that. Had a fire from linseed soak rags but that was outside of shop and quanset thankfully. Work proceeded along with us taking time to get everything just right. Things slowed down after we attended funerals as the years passed.

Eventually it came time to do the inside of the cabin. It is really one cabin seperated with a head(ships toilet) at the bow of ship. Aft of the head is the two main bunks on either side. There is stowage underneath and above with the bottom of the mast running through that. Aft of that is the Kitchen/saloon/extra sleeping area. It is not that big and the table folds up into the wall to give space. on one side is the cooking area, which is mostly shelves to hold stuff without doors, a small counter to prepare things with an edge and the propane stove that swivels in two directions. Other side is the main seating area in a curve with the radio and it's special little emergency button. A special thingamaboby that is for if the ship ever goes under so it can be located.

This is just inside of the cabin hatch/half door. under which is the engine bay, fuel tank and water tank. There is also batteries and the funky looking sunlight on deck is really a solar power array. We have these weird looking glass things that hang down from on deck in a few places that act as lamps during the day. We also have electric lamps and gas backup lamps, including one that goes up the mast.

under the wheel on deck is the access hatch for the tanks, batteries, and the Detroit engine. The wheel is a very classic wooden wheel. All the fittings on deck are brass that is original to yacht that we bought but was recast. The railings at the bow are all brass as the breakwater is underneath the deck proper with the foldable foresail beam out front of that. The main sail is Bermuda rigging made out of England somewhere. It cost a pretty penny and they were not happy with the black and white color choice. This is raised and lowered via a neat boxed winch thing as the boom itself.

There is a foresail and a jibe sheet as well as a spinnaker if we feel up to it that goes in and out of this neat pocket to the side of the head. The rear rudder assembly inside the ship has a hydraulic assist so steering is a breeze. The twin screws to either side of it all controlled easily with two levers that jokingly look like old fashioned full half things seen on older steam ships. They even have an electronic bell if we want it.

In bad weather the rear edge of the deck can be lifted forward to connect to the top of cabin to keep most of the rain off you to steer the ship. We would have to stow the sails before doing that though and batten down hatches and beams. The Boom acts as part of the bad weather cabin roof support. It is quite ingenious really.

Her woodwork and brasswork make her a site to behold both on and off the water. The send off and official naming were met with mixed reviews when we launched her using the rather interesting ritual to gods of the sea. She got stuck on the greased ways during launching before the naming ceremony due to the one piece of wood splitting and jamming it.

Launching her brought tears to my eyes. And quite a few others for two reasons. One it was quite the experience to build her along with the family of sorts that all got together on that memorable cruise as well as my ones to Claire. And second because none of us thought to put on a layline so we had to scramble after her in the aluminum fishing boat to tow her back in.

Thankfully none of the other yachts that had shown up for the launching got damaged. Oh yes our dock and boathouse are quite the stopping spot now. Everyone loves the patio terrace. Our front lawn is always thick and green, if still a little on the lumpy side. There is a puddle that collects in the middle after a good rain. Still have piles of compost composting away that can be added later.

Our first couple of cruises were quite nice. The bilge pumps seized up and thankfully we didn't have any leaks. There is not really a normal prop shaft seal arrangement. Tom and his buddies came up with something that works even better using compressed lard. It keeps the water out and doesn't pollute.

Usually we go up to the yacht club marinas that can be accessed on the Red River have dinner and go back. A few times that took days to reach and come back. Fishing is a good pastime for us both and we have had a few meals of fish. Not from the red river but out of some ponds past brokenhead. There is a twentyfour volt freezer in the ship that I store meats in. Tom or I try to cook, neither of us are good although I do get teased at being a woman and a bad cook.

We dont starve and my personal cooking involves cooking in ovens, which we don't have in ship. Usually we anchor with our two anchors for the night offshore and cook on the 1966, it was dated, green Coleman stove. It just cooks better. We set it up on deck in evening and start cooking. It has it's own special place that prevents it from moving should the ship move. Mornings are usually juice and oatmeal. The hotdogs are cooked in boiling water for lunch.

Needless to say we eat out a fair amount when we can sailing, which is most of the summer. Winters are spent cleaning her up in the quanset, fixing anything that needs fixing or working on other boats.

As the years progressed medical science came up with a way for us to lose some of the aging we had suffered over the years. I looked almost twenty again and Tom looked in his thirties. It also gave me something extra special. Medical science allowed me to have our daughter, who I also named Claire. She is the daughter of Claire and I. Not Tom's thought as she grew up and learned that I was really her father and the fate of her real mother she still calls me mother and Tom daddy.

Time moved on and we set sail every year. Year after year Love took her trips with little to no problems and Claire, my daughter, loved sailing on her as much as we all did. We even took one long trip down the Red River to connect to the Mississippi River and eventually the sea, across the ocean behind the new Enchantment of the seas, across to england and then back. It was a little hairy at times. Thankfully we could actually eat fish from the sea and rainwater collection with purification was possible.

Clair continued the tradition with her first born daughter, also named Clair, who took over the company reins just like her mother took them over from me, Sherry and her children followed along in the company and I still do meet and greets once and awhile.

The house got expanded so that it is four main bedrooms with kitchettes along with main family kitchen and the extra long table made up of various pieces of boats from yards over the years. The boys took to fixing boats quite well and Love is always treated with respect. We bought the property on each side of us to expand the family home and boat yard business into.

I might be over a hundred but I can usually be found sleeping whenever I can in Love. I just always get the best sleep there. I lay down on it;s simple bunk and it seems I just drift off in Claires arms and I feel her with me so well. From time to time I seem to meet up with Enchantment and her crew as they were with Claire at my side.

For you see on the Transom is the name of the yacht that I painstakingly, many many years ago put up. I don't know if it has any meaning or if the ship is in some way blessed but I do know that all of my children and grandchildren fell in love with their significant others on board her with smiles. I could feel Claire almost giving her blessing on each union.

All of us enjoy love but all of them know that this is my yacht.

Her name is:

My Love, My Heart
Claire.

The end.

I appreciate comments. Please be kind in comments. This is a story I had to just get out of my head. It is a rough draft. I will probably correct a few things in future.