Catalina Island

At age 16, I was hired to take care of a young couple’s children during a summer sailing adventure to Catalina Island just off the coast of Long Beach. When they told me I could bring a friend, Kate jumped at the opportunity to make some money and get tan.

Mr. and Mrs. Conrad were anthropologists who had traveled the world before settling down and starting a family. They had a little boy and girl ages five and six who I had been babysitting since they were born. Mom and Dad knew them from church and gave their full blessing on the adventure. We set sail on a beautiful Saturday morning with clear, pale blue skies and strong winds that made for the perfect sailing conditions.

The deep blue water looked like glass as the boat glided along, rocking me gently. I watched as the mainland got smaller and smaller, the water twinkling like diamonds on the horizon. The wind caught the sail and we picked up speed. As the water sprayed my face, I turned to see how far our destination was when a school of dolphins joined us. Kate and I watched them dash and dive in and out of the white water the boat left behind in its wake sensing their blessing marked what was sure to be a magical vacation.

Kate and I decided to get a head start on our tans so we got out our baby oil and positioned ourselves on the deck while Mr. and Mrs. Conrad did all the sailing as their children took naps below deck. We made it to our destination in no time.

As the boat docked, I felt even more excited about this adventure, if that was possible. The Island was all lush and green surrounded by giant palm trees with quaint shops and restaurants catering to tourists. There was hiking, biking and all sorts of water sports. We watched as a group of divers gathered their gear together to take off for a high sea adventure. I’d never seen divers up close before. I had only seen them on TV. What guts, I could never do that, I thought. I was too afraid of sharks.

To say that Kate and I weren’t the perfect nanny’s would be an understatement. We were looking at this as our own vacation. Even so, we did take the kids to get ice cream as soon as we docked. And the minute we turned around with cones in our hand, we stood face to face with two of the cutest boys we had ever seen in our lives!

“Hi, I’m Scotty,” said the taller of the two, tanned, buff and blonde. He was wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts, his skin that golden brown color from spending weeks in the sun. His blond hair was slicked back from being wet and he was barefoot. I couldn’t even look straight at him. “This is Bill,” Scotty motioned to his skinny friend, who pushed his longer, shoulder length hair out of his face. They both stood smiling at Kate and I. “We heard you were here,” Scotty said as ice cream melted down my arm.

“What?” I asked, wondering how could he have heard we had arrived.

“The Island is really small and when two foxy blondes from the mainland arrive, well, we all hear about it. What’s your name?”

“I’m Susan, this is Kate, and this is Lilly and Eric,” the kids were busy with their ice cream cones but Kate and I had forgotten about ours. A puddle of chocolate and vanilla swirl dripped at our feet, our ice cream now completely melted all over our hands.

Scotty’s sun kissed cheeks and bronze colored skin made his white teeth stand out, like they would glow in the dark. They weren’t perfectly straight from braces but there was something about his smile that said he was honorable. We made plans to meet back at that spot later after the kids were in bed and our nanny duties were done.

From that night on, Kate and I decided to sleep on the dock in our sleeping bags returning to the sailboat and the Conrads in the morning just in time for breakfast. Secretly, we were meeting Scotty and Bill. Puppy love was in the air.

The first night we met Scotty and Bill, they were waiting with a six pack of beer. We all walked to the shore and hung out, breathing in the fresh sea air and drinking while stars lit up night. My first sip of beer (I had never even tasted any alcohol) was bitter and I almost spit it out but as I continued to drink, it tasted better and better, the tingling sensation of alcohol starting to permeate my veins. It also helped ease the tension I was feeling on a strange Island with a strange boy. I started talking about Siesta and how much I missed her.

 “You know, your eyes remind me of my dog, the way they’re shaped, they go down on the sides,” he gently touched my eyes, coming closer to me as we sat on the sand.

“Thanks a lot, comparing me to a dog,” I laughed, pulling away.

“No, I mean that as a compliment,” he said then reached over and kissed me, I mean really kissed me. I liked it.

The next night I drank beer again and also smoked my first cigarette. I felt dizzy afterwards and almost threw up. But trying new things felt so liberating. Scotty grabbed me in his arms, held me tight, began kissing my lips tenderly and then tried exploring, putting his hands up my shirt. 

“Don’t,” I said in a joking manner and it worked because he stopped right away. Kate and I seemed like the only girls left at our school who were still virgins but i wanted to keep it that way.So when it came time to snuggle into our sleeping bags, the boys left. Until our last night. I told Scotty I would let him sleep next to me, provided he didn’t try any funny stuff. He was a complete gentleman. We kept our clothes on the entire night and cuddled but I couldn’t sleep at all, with the strange musky scent of boy so close I could taste it. Instead of closing my eyes, I watched him as he slept, his belly moving with each breath, in and out in perfect rhythm.

My romantic mind made up all sorts of stories about returning to the island the following summer and one day marrying him at that very dock. I never did see him again but when I went home, I wrote about Scotty in my journal. How we would meet back at the dock and make mad, passionate love, his hands touching me all over, his tongue in my mouth and on my body.