Read A Yacht Called Erewhon for Free Online Page B

voice, but found herself craning her neck upward.
    ‘Well, thank you for introducing yourself, because I never take drinks from strangers,’ she replied, with restored composure. ‘How do you know my name?’
    Toby offered his arm and ushered Mercedes to the less smoky dining-room. ‘Some of our less gracious members are upset by your presence, so I think we will be able to chat more easily in here,’ he said, as he pulled back a chair for her. ‘Mercedes McAlister, you obviously underestimate the effect you’re having in our little pond, and the only thing I will say is that the gossips haven’t done your beauty justice.’
    Mercedes smiled, ‘Thank you, Toby.’
    ‘I’m sorry Benson put you through the ropes, but he was only doing his job—club rules, you know.’
    ‘Rather archaic rules.’
    ‘So are the members! And what is the most eligible woman in New Zealand doing in Squadron headquarters on men-only night?’
    ‘I’d like to join.’
    ‘First problem: membership is strictly men only. Wives and sweethearts can only come here on mixed nights.’
    This was Mercedes’ first taste of the crusty old-boy network at the Squadron, and it made her even more determined to succeed. That night Toby bent the rules, and she stayed for a sumptuous meal, after which he escorted her to her car. Over the meal, Mercedes told Toby of her father’s relationship with Thomas Lipton and the challenge proposed after the nextAmerica’s Cup. He privately doubted that the event would take place, but in the interests of getting to know Mercedes better he gave the impression he was wildly enthusiastic about the prospect.
    Toby and Mercedes went on to become great friends, then lovers. She found him a fantastic source of information on the boating scene in Auckland. As project manager for the new yacht, Mercedes struggled with her complete lack of knowledge of the boatbuilding industry and, in fact, of yachting in general. But she was a very willing learner and, with Toby’s guidance and the unconditional use of his A-class keeler, Vamp , she soon had the old-boy network foaming into their brandies as she took gun after gun in the club’s feature events.
    Mercedes desperately wanted to become a member of the Royal Auckland, but even with Toby pitching for her the old boys wouldn’t change the rules. Mac, although used to sitting in the wings and letting Mercedes fight her own battles, couldn’t help but get involved. He’d heard through the grapevine that the club was planning to move its premises from the now landlocked Freeman’s Bay back to the foreshore at St Mary’s Bay. When the only stumbling block was the cost of the new clubrooms, Mac agreed to underwrite the new building, provided Mercedes became a full and unencumbered member, and provided she never learned of the deal. After lengthy discussions, a lot of blood-letting and a few resignations, the deal was done.
    Having called for design and build quotations for the boat, Mercedes settled on a radical proposal from a young marine architect called Jack Mickeljohn. Above the waterline his design was traditional, though graceful, but underwater it differed markedly from other designs of its era.
    Mickeljohn’s family scow-building business in Mahurangi had produced just two keelboats, one a B-class and the other adainty little C-class, and both more-than-capable performers. From their maiden outings, they embarrassed the form yachts to a point where the regulars wouldn’t race them and they were outlawed. This didn’t deter Mercedes, as she was determined to have the fastest J-class yacht in the world. On commissioning Mickeljohn, she leased a disused boat-shed in Stanley Bay from where she could oversee the project.
    Craftsmen were rounded up, timber barged in, and the shed extended to cope with the huge craft as the framing was produced and set out. Mercedes quickly learned that the most frustrating part of watching a yacht of this size being built was the