The first porn movie I ever saw was called Sex Boat. I was 17 and a couple of suburban boys invited my best friend and me over to watch “pay TV.” (Children, this was back in the day when most people had fewer channels than you have fingers on your hand. Only people who lived in an Appalachian ‘holler or the very rich had cable.)
So we showed up, expecting to see The French Lieutenant’s Woman or some similar film that pretends to be foreign and arty simply to justify its liberal use of soft-focus nudity. But the boys had something else planned.
With the type of delusion borne from a wishful brew of teenaged hormones, the boys flipped to a channel that was normally scrambled. One of the guys had put all of those seemingly worthless hours of Dungeons and Dragons treachery to practical use. He had figured out away to break into the porn channel.
The boys were hoping, of course, that my friend and I would be so stimulated by the opening scenes of Sex Boat that we’d immediately begin shucking off our clothes and climbing on top of them. Instead, we inched closer to the screen and became engrossed in the movie’s plot, which I later learned, was quite clever and intricate for a sex movie.
The movie began with a woman and man having sex in the outdoors. They are discovered by the woman’s fiancé, who chases off his rival and then ties his girlfriend to a tree while he takes a meditative walk to ponder her punishment. When he returns, he triumphantly declares: “I’m sending you on an all-girl cruise!”
This, apparently, is meant to deny her of the male member she craves so deeply. But as soon as the ship departs, the girls on the boat—who have all been sentenced to the cruise for various sexual crimes—become frisky and many lesbian high jinks ensue. And, then, pirates board the ship and things get even more complicated.
Ever since I first saw this movie I yearned for the day when I’d be sentenced to an all-girl cruise. This may explain many of my bad behaviors. These crimes were committed in hopes that I’d be dragged before a stern but beautiful female judge (blonde and ruthlessly Nordic), and against the background of the “wonka-wonka-wonka” music that always signals the start of a sexual romp in a porn movie, I’d be shipped off with a boatload of girls who just can’t seem to keep their shirts buttoned.
So, recently, when a friend who owns an ecotourism business invited me on an all-girl trip to the Alaskan wilderness, my first question was “will we be on a boat at any point of the trip?”
“Yes,” she answered cautiously, knowing full well of what I was hinting at. “But you’re the only lesbian on the trip, so don’t get any big ideas.”
“All the woman on the Sex Boat were straight, too,” I said. “And look how that turned out.”
Today, as I packed the required fleece, turtlenecks and long underwear, I tossed in a few pieces of my finest lingerie. We’ll be on a ship in the Bay of Alaska for only a few hours, but I expect it gets awfully stuffy in such confined quarters.
My next column will be written from the wilds of Alaska. Stay tuned to learn what happens when 10 strangers are forced to spend a week with a randy columnist who possesses devilish good looks and raw animal charm. If I can keep the pirates at bay, I like my chances. Wonka, wonka, wonka….