Date: Mon, 14 Aug 2023 21:44:30 -0600 From: Bill Baker Subject: Brian's Tale, The early times, Chapter 01, Reader Warning: This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males older and younger than 18. If material of this nature offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in many states, and some countries, you are not allowed to read this story by law. This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, by the author, without the consent of the author or his designated legal staff. Remember unprotected sex is dangerous, always practice safe sex. Don't forget to donate to Nifty. Help keep these stories free and available! Support Nifty... Do you like it or not, any suggestions? Let me know ... boatsonbill@gmail.com Chapter 01 the early Times Brian's tale... Hi I'm Patrick, I play the leading part in this story, starting with me as a kid living in Alaska, I started going to sea on a family commercial fishing boat, when I was 8 years old; yes, just like in the olden days, I was the cabin boy, cook, general cleaner, fish gutter/cleaner and anything else that needed done I managed to learn how to do it. On my 4th year of fishing, I sailed with my uncle Billy, and his 15-year-old son Ron. That was an exciting time, my first real fishing job and having my own Alaskan state fishing license was a big deal. I actually got paid, a quarter share, on that boat, but it was a bad year for fishing, lots of storms that made commercial trolling, dragging a line with dozens of leaders and hooks being towed from long poles some 40 feet long, almost imposable. When the waves raised the boat, it jerks the line up and tends to pull the hooks out of the fish's mouths or prevent the fish from getting close to the baited hooks at all. We spent a lot of time anchored away from any civilization, so Ron and I spent time ashore exploring where ever we were anchored. That's when I first realized that I was or might be gay. On one of our beach explorations and camping trips, cousin Ron and I fell into a creek on our way back to the camp site, it was getting dark and we missed a washout area. As the edge gave way, we both slipped down the small hill into the water that accumulated at the bottom. Not only did we get wet we were muddy from sliding down into the water. So, we stripped bare waded into the natural volcanic heated water on the edge of this lake to wash off the mud, then cleaned the mud from our clothes, spread them over a line we had rigged to dry them. We were both shivering once we were out of the water, Ron convinced me to climb into a double sleeping bag with him to stay worm. I got and gave my first BJs that night. After several weeks he taught me how my boy pussy was used by another boy, and I loved it. Then he traded places with me and I loved that even more. In late July we were heading back to the fishing docks in Kodiak to off load our catch when we hit a chunk of ice, it tore a huge hole in our wooden boats bow, damn near splitting the boat in two. The Linda J. sank in minutes. Its not the big icebergs that sink most boats under a hundred feet long it's the ice chunks that are small, 2 to 4 feet wide, floating just below the surface. Uncle Billy and I made it to the dory but we never saw Ron again. Over a day later a Rescue cutter picked us up. Uncle got soaking wet trying to go back inside the boat looking for his son. By the time we were picked up Uncle Billy was in bad shape, hypothermia, grief, he lost his beloved boat and son. After the hospital corpsman checked him out, they decided to airlift Uncle Billy to the hospital. The Rescue helicopter, already had a medivaced fisherman on board so there was no room for me. Once the Doc got me warmed up and checked out, I ended up as a kind of crew member for just over two weeks, seeing as they had a third fishing boat sink, which we never found anything at all. So, I would have something to do, and to better keep an eye on me, I was put to work in the scullery, that's where all the pots and pans the cooks use are cleaned, and the Seaman mess cook was put in charge of me, to keep me out of trouble. I became kind of a crew mascot that trip and with everyone paying attention to me I had a great time, almost forgetting my cousin died. I remember that first night when I asked Jim, the mess cook, if there was a place I could take another shower. Sure, we all use the crews head, then said, wait, let's go see Ensign Gray. After he told ensign Gray that I was bunking with the crew he said, "Wait a minute how old is he?" "12," Jim said. "No way, he looks like he is no bigger than 10, small for your age aren't you, young sir," he said more as a statement than a question. "No, I think we should have him in a state room. Let me asked the skipper." After a while the skipper called the three of us to the bridge then Ensign Gray suggested I be put in a stateroom because of my age, possibly with the Chief Boatswain, he has kids, Ens. Gray said. "Yes, you're right, the skipper said; alright Mr. Gray if I remember right, you have an upper bunk available in your stateroom, I'm I correct." "Yes, Sir but, I'm only 23, shouldn't the chief..." That's settled... move our guest into your stateroom so he can use your private shower, and ask the crew if anyone has any clothes he can wear, it looks like we'll be underway for the next two weeks. The crew was just at the big exchange at Air Station/Base Kodiak and several dads had purchased jump suits or coverall for their kids and they let me have them to wear. One chief even had shorts and t-shirts I could use. That first night was super awkward in Ens. Gray's cabin, after he made up the upper bunk, he told me to go take a shower, he gave me some soap and a towel. When I finished, I came into the small room with just the towel wrapped around me. Gray went to bed after he finished some writing. That night I had a terrible dream, I saw my cousin Ron go into the head like he did every morning, then in my dream this huge chunk of ice destroyed my view of him, that's when I woke up. Gray got up to find out what was happening, and after I told him the dream he said just like my little brother. Ok, crawl into my bunk so we can both get some sleep. After he thought I was asleep he slowly took hold of my boy toy and played with it for a while. The next night as we were talking, he asked me if I knew what a blow job was? I nodded yes. Ever done it? sucked anyone? Being a truthful boy, I said yes lots of times, do you want me to suck you I asked? We pleasured each other for the rest of the time I was on board. During that two weeks, I actually got to help the crew on one of the unmanned light houses. After three days searching the RCC called a halt to looking for the other fishing boat and crew. Part of the ships mission was to keep the remote light stations fueled and working correctly. While we were in the vicinity of a light station that was scheduled for refueling, the skipper decided to stop and complete that refueling job; after all it would take several days to return to this site after they were finished with this mission. It seems that the main door to the fuel building was found to be locked again on the inside, by the local AtoN team who was checking on the operation of the light itself. The chief Boatswain said this has happened twice now, the local earth quakes broke the locking lever on the inside of the door so they would have to tear the door off again to fix it. The engine room Sr. Chief who was on the mess deck relaxing said, I brought an updated latch to replace the old one, but we have to get the dammed door open to fix it. Can't someone crawl through the ventilation shaft one of the Quartermasters from the bridge asked? Its too small, I heard as I walked into the mess deck, from the scullery. I'll bet he could crawl through it the quartermaster said pointing at me. No way, the skipper would never let him do anything like that, the engine room Sr Chief said. Chief it took us 7 almost 8 hours last time just to get that damned bear door open the boatswain said. Hay kid; yah you. His name is Patrick, Jimmy said what's up chief. Listen you two, we need your help unlocking a door on the fueling building ashore. After the chief explained what I would have to do I got excited saying yah sure that would be no problem, I can get into some really small places. The boatswain Chief went to find the life jacket I had on when picked up, and some water proof boots and a heavy jacket, that would fit me, while the engine Sr. Chief went to talk to the skipper. The Sr. Chief and skipper came into the crew's mess deck, as the boatswain brought all the gear needed for me to do the job. The skipper asked me a lot of questions about things I had done during my short life. He was impressed that I had worked on the families fishing boats since I was 8 years old. As the skipper was silent thinking about what to do, I remembered the PBY, oh and I helped the pilot of the PBY I was on, repair the left motor after we landed in a small cove. Really, that was you? A month or so ago, there was a story about a PBY emergency landing and how helpful a small boy passenger was to the pilot. Well, that settles it, we may get in trouble but let's get that door open Seaman Patrick; Chief, anything happens to this seaman will be on you. Yes, Sir we both said at the same time. So, I got to be lowered down the side of the ship in the cargo ramp boat after the boatswain chief showed me how to do it safely, holding on to the main lines on the way down, then got to drive the cargo boat a bit on the way in. Getting through the ventilator shaft was a cinch once the grate was removed, I had to take most of the clothss I was wearing off to fit through the vent, then I removed the bar that had locked the door and it only took 15 minutes start to finish. So chief why is there such a heavy-duty lock on the door, I asked as I walked out the door. Ever seen a grizzly bear he asked? as he handed me my cloths and jacket to dress. Last year my cousin and I were forced up a tree by a big grizzly, we were walking up a creek like two dummies. Well, we keep repair supplies, and bears are quercous and will try and get into any structure they come across. Here see these scares on the out side of the heavy door that is from a bear trying to get into the building. So, there are bears around here, and that's why two of your men are carrying rifles. You got it Seaman Patrick he said. After the door latch was replaced, the Chief Boatswain picked me up, put me on his shoulders and carried me down to the waiting ramp boat. After we finished pumping fuel to the light house and everything was put away, the skipper got on the 1MC and announced to the crew what I had done helping them, and that it saved 7 to 8 hours of work. From then on, I was called Seaman, or Boats Patrick by the whole crew, and several of them gave me small keepsakes, a bolt from the door, lots of little things that Jimmy and I put in our secret place, we found a used pipe tobacco can that sealed tight for safe keeping. When the rescue cutter pulled into the Kodiak air station docks, the crew let me have the one pair of coveralls the chiefs had covered with patches, I had that hanging in my room for years as a reminder, they gave me a ships hat and a great send off. I completely forgot about the secret hiding place till weeks later. My mom and sisters were at the dock when the Rescue cutter docked in Kodiak and they took me straight home to Sitka, no more adventures that year. Uncle Billy recovered and got a new/old boat kept fishing till he hurt his back one year and had to retire. That winter, my family moved to the Washington state area, where dad started working for the local aircraft company. We traveled to Alaska every spring to go fishing. After high school, seeing as I was already 18, I joined the Rescue Service with out needing my parent's permission, much to the disapproval of our fishing family elders. I was so impressed with the crew of the rescue cutter I was picked up by, in my mind that is what I was destined to do. It seems the family thought, once a fisherman always a fisherman... and sold my Alaska fishing license with out even telling me. One could only get one fishing license per lifetime, you give it up or sell it that's it, no more fishing.