# Where are you, Kathy.



## Cpt Dick Brooks (May 13, 2013)

I first met Kathy at a Peace Corps St. Patrick's Day party being held at one of their community houses in an ex-pat enclave in the SE quarter of Apia, in Western Samoa. She was in her early twenties, tall with nice breasts, and long straw-blond hair cascading down over her shoulders down to the arch of her back. She went to the party with Patricia, another Peace Corps employee, also working as a teacher at the convent.
She was introduced to me by Wasko, another Peace Corps employee also working as a teacher at the local school. I first met up with this bunch of Americans at the R.S.A. down by the waterfront of Apia, near the fishing harbour. We chattered for awhile, having a few dances together, but other wise we just mingled with the other guests. I also danced with her friend, Patricia, who looked like Marie Osmond, but with too many front teeth, otherwise she was quite pretty.
The next time I met her was at the R.S.A., when she came into the bar with a group of other teachers. After several casual meetings with groups of Peace Corps workers, I finally got to have a pleasant chat with her on a Sunday afternoon at the Apia Yacht Club on the Mulinuu Peninsular, on the western side of the harbour.
I had rescued one of the yachties, who had broken his rudder on his Laser dingy. I'd towed him back to the yacht club after trying to make repairs alongside my ship, Debut, anchored out in the outer harbour near the clubhouse. The President of the club thanked me and bought me a beer, saying they should be using a rescue-boat, but they hadn't got one. I offered to use my launch on Sundays on their behalf for this purpose, and was made an honorary member of the club while my ship was anchored in the harbour.
The following Sunday I arrived at the club to have a beer, before escorting the racing dinghies. The guy I'd helped the week before asked if he could crew for me, as he hadn't received the spare parts for his rudder yet, and Kathy asked if she could catch a lift along the coast to the barbecue being held by the club.
After I'd escorted all the Lasers back to the club, finishing off with drinks at the bar, I offered Kathy a lift to the fishing harbour, rather than her having to walk alone down the blacked-out road back to the town. She smiled at me and accepted. On the way we passed by my ship, and I asked her if she'd like to come on board and look round, and perhaps have a drink. She smiled at me again and readily accepted my offer.
This became the norm for us, with Kathy crewing my launch as the yacht club's rescue-boat every Sunday afternoon, then some drinks at the club house, before taking her out to my ship on our way back to town, then dropping her off at the fishing harbour.
The yacht club president asked me if they could use my ship to throw a party for the members and invited guests. Naturally, Kathy came along with her friend, Patricia. With a gentle swell swinging around the fringing reef of the harbour, catching my ship on her port beam, she gently swayed from side to side. Many of the member's wives felt seasick because of the motion, and asked to be taken ashore. Kathy was OK, but her friend, Patricia, was sea-sick. She went ashore with her to comfort her in her sad condition. I would meet up with Kathy at the R.S.A. during the weeks that followed, and at the yacht club on a Sunday afternoon for drinks and to crew my launch as the rescue-boat for their dingy races. 
At the end of my contract with Mobil Oil, to overhaul the tanker mooring systems in the outer harbour, and the mile-long under-sea oil pipeline to the tank farms on the Mulinuu Peninsular, I sailed with my ship to Fiji, then on to Australia. I never saw or heard from Kathy again. Get in touch, Kathy, so we can talk over old times. All the best to you, Cpt Dick Brooks.


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