# For Kim and Gordy, R.I.P.



## Cpt Dick Brooks (May 13, 2013)

I met up with Kim and Gordy in the Seaside Garden Club, a waterside bar fronting on to the harbour-side of Pago Pago, in American Samoa. They had just arrived in their small Bermudian sloop from the west coast of California. They were sailing by themselves on a clockwise voyage around the Pacific Ocean, and were basking in the sunshine of the South Seas.
During their conversation with other yachties moored up to the pontoons at the small marina, they had heard that this was the bar that all the yachties and ex-patriot workers met up in during the afternoon for a get-together and rap-session. They were immediately accepted by the mainly American gathering, and soon got into the swing of life in paradise.
Kim was tall and slim, with long sun-bleached blond hair reaching down past her shoulder blades. Gordy was about the same height, of stocky build with dark hair. Kim was outgoing and gregarious, while Gordy was quiet and reserved. They were a friendly couple, and soon blended in with the regular gang.
I had started dating Mariana, a young Polynesian girl from Western Samoa, who became a waitress at the bar the day after her 18th birthday. I became engaged to her after a couple of months, and was a little peeved at her working 14 hours a day for low wages at the bar. She wouldn't give up her job and move in with me on board my ship, Debut, as she wanted to earn her own money to buy her wedding dress and other bits and pieces for our forthcoming marriage. Debut was a salvage vessel and dive-support ship, and was on stand-by at Pago Pago harbour for salvage operations in the South Seas.
As Mariana busied herself, running between her tables in the bar, an idea came to me. I grabbed Kim on her way back from the toilet and pulled her on to my lap. I was snogging with her and had my hand up her dress, fondling her panties, when Mariana saw what I was doing.
Following the loud confrontation between Mariana and me, Kim and Gordy, and the fact that old Sam Scanlan, the owner of the bar, was present, Mariana got the sack. She threw down her tray and stormed out of the rear door of the bar in a temper. Sitting on a pile of timber on the dock, overlooking the harbour, with many king words from me, she saw the funny side of the incident and returned to the bar with me.
With a couple of Kailua and milk in an otherwise empty stomach, she saw the funny side of the event. She sat holding hands with Kim while I laughed and joked with the gang, and Gordy had forgiven me when I explained to them all my motive and stood a couple of rounds of drinks. They joined the other yachties on board my ship for many a barbecue-party after this.
At the end of the cyclone season, Kim and Gordy sailed on their small yacht for New Zealand, by way of the enchanted islands of Tonga. I thought I would never hear from them again, but nature had other plans for us.
The 83 foot three-masted junk-rigged expedition ship, Heraclitus, had run aground at the pass of the harbour of Asau, in Savaii, in Western Samoa, on her way out to sea. They had forgotten to keep the lead-marks in-line on leaving the port, and had fetched up on the reef on the western side of the turbulent passage.
A young Canadian girl, Marianne, who had been working for me during this salvage operation with her brother, had been lost at sea from their small yacht off Wallis Island. Roger, another yachtie working for me, and an old acquaintance from my days in Bora Bora, told me in front of the gathered crew that she was the second girl to drown on a yacht recently, and mentioned Kim and Gordy.
They had sailed on their small yacht from Auckland in convoy with three other yachts, bound for Sydney, in Australia. Halfway across the Tasman Sea, they received a storm warning about a bad storm of hurricane strength moving east past Tasmania and the Australian southern coast. They all turned around and headed back to Auckland. But the small yacht owned by Kim and Gordy was never seen or heard of again. The three larger yachts had made it back to New Zealand OK, but their small yacht was overwhelmed by the storm.
They will be missed by all of us who sail the High Seas, because this can be waiting for us all. For you, Kim and Gordy, may you rest in peace. Cpt Dick Brooks.


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## Cpt Dick Brooks (May 13, 2013)

I met up with Kim and Gordy in the Seaside Garden Club, a waterside bar fronting on to the harbour-side of Pago Pago, in American Samoa. They had just arrived in their small Bermudian sloop from the west coast of California. They were sailing by themselves on a clockwise voyage around the Pacific Ocean, and were basking in the sunshine of the South Seas.
During their conversation with other yachties moored up to the pontoons at the small marina, they had heard that this was the bar that all the yachties and ex-patriot workers met up in during the afternoon for a get-together and rap-session. They were immediately accepted by the mainly American gathering, and soon got into the swing of life in paradise.
Kim was tall and slim, with long sun-bleached blond hair reaching down past her shoulder blades. Gordy was about the same height, of stocky build with dark hair. Kim was outgoing and gregarious, while Gordy was quiet and reserved. They were a friendly couple, and soon blended in with the regular gang.
I had started dating Mariana, a young Polynesian girl from Western Samoa, who became a waitress at the bar the day after her 18th birthday. I became engaged to her after a couple of months, and was a little peeved at her working 14 hours a day for low wages at the bar. She wouldn't give up her job and move in with me on board my ship, Debut, as she wanted to earn her own money to buy her wedding dress and other bits and pieces for our forthcoming marriage. Debut was a salvage vessel and dive-support ship, and was on stand-by at Pago Pago harbour for salvage operations in the South Seas.
As Mariana busied herself, running between her tables in the bar, an idea came to me. I grabbed Kim on her way back from the toilet and pulled her on to my lap. I was snogging with her and had my hand up her dress, fondling her panties, when Mariana saw what I was doing.
Following the loud confrontation between Mariana and me, Kim and Gordy, and the fact that old Sam Scanlan, the owner of the bar, was present, Mariana got the sack. She threw down her tray and stormed out of the rear door of the bar in a temper. Sitting on a pile of timber on the dock, overlooking the harbour, with many king words from me, she saw the funny side of the incident and returned to the bar with me.
With a couple of Kailua and milk in an otherwise empty stomach, she saw the funny side of the event. She sat holding hands with Kim while I laughed and joked with the gang, and Gordy had forgiven me when I explained to them all my motive and stood a couple of rounds of drinks. They joined the other yachties on board my ship for many a barbecue-party after this.
At the end of the cyclone season, Kim and Gordy sailed on their small yacht for New Zealand, by way of the enchanted islands of Tonga. I thought I would never hear from them again, but nature had other plans for us.
The 83 foot three-masted junk-rigged expedition ship, Heraclitus, had run aground at the pass of the harbour of Asau, in Savaii, in Western Samoa, on her way out to sea. They had forgotten to keep the lead-marks in-line on leaving the port, and had fetched up on the reef on the western side of the turbulent passage.
A young Canadian girl, Marianne, who had been working for me during this salvage operation with her brother, had been lost at sea from their small yacht off Wallis Island. Roger, another yachtie working for me, and an old acquaintance from my days in Bora Bora, told me in front of the gathered crew that she was the second girl to drown on a yacht recently, and mentioned Kim and Gordy.
They had sailed on their small yacht from Auckland in convoy with three other yachts, bound for Sydney, in Australia. Halfway across the Tasman Sea, they received a storm warning about a bad storm of hurricane strength moving east past Tasmania and the Australian southern coast. They all turned around and headed back to Auckland. But the small yacht owned by Kim and Gordy was never seen or heard of again. The three larger yachts had made it back to New Zealand OK, but their small yacht was overwhelmed by the storm.
They will be missed by all of us who sail the High Seas, because this can be waiting for us all. For you, Kim and Gordy, may you rest in peace. Cpt Dick Brooks.


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## ben27 (Dec 27, 2012)

good day cpt dick brooks,m.yesterday,re:for kim and gordy.r.i.p.a sad story.i hope you have since found happiness.may kim and gordy rest in peace.regards ben27


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## Cpt Dick Brooks (May 13, 2013)

*For ben27*

It's good to receive your thread, ben27. There are so many friends of mine lost at sea. I found out about Kim and Gordy after an even more harrowing event, which I mention in my thread. I'll go into detail about this after publishing my forth book, Samoan Sunset. I am in the process of publishing my third book, Samoan Princess. It is the second book in The Black Ship Trilogy, following The Judas Kiss. These are the three books I wrote during the three years I spent castaway on Emily Reef, after being shipwrecked in the Coral Sea. I recently found out that the reef my ship is aground on, a mile west of Emily Reef, is now officially named Debut Reef after my ship. It is reckoned that 10% of all the private vessels travelling around the world are lost each year. All the best to you, Cpt Dick Brooks.


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