The Wolf Of Wall Street Part 27

I reached into my pocket and pulled out three Ludes. I cracked one in half and gave it to the d.u.c.h.ess. "Here," I said, "half for you, and two and a half for me."

The d.u.c.h.ess took her meager dose and headed for the water fountain. I followed dutifully. On the way, though, I reached back into my pocket and pulled out two more Ludes. After all, what's worth doing...is worth doing right.

Three hours later we were sitting in the back of a limousine, heading down a steep hill that led to Porto di Civitavecchia. The d.u.c.h.ess had a brand-new wardrobe, and I was so post-Luded I could barely keep my eyes open. There were two things I desperately needed: movement and a nap. I was in that rare phase of a Quaalude high called the movement phase, where you can't stand to be in the same spot for more than a second. It's the drug-induced equivalent of having ants in your pants.

Dave Ceradini noticed first. "Why are there whitecaps in the harbor?" He pointed his finger out the window, and all eight of us looked.

Indeed, the grayish water looked awfully rough. There were tiny whirlpools swirling this way and that.

Ophelia said to me, "Dave and I don't like rough water. We both get seasick."

"Me too," said Bonnie. "Can we wait until the water calms down?"

Ross answered for me: "You're such an imbecile, Bonnie. The boat's a hundred seventy feet long; it can handle a bit of chop. Besides, seasickness is a state of mind."

I needed to calm everyone's fears. "We have seasickness patches on board," I said confidently, "so if you get seasick, you should put one on as soon as we get on the boat."

When we reached the bottom of the hill, I noticed that we'd all been wrong. There were no whitecaps; there were waves...Christ! I'd never seen anything like it! Inside the harbor were four-foot waves, and they seemed to be crossing over one another, in no particular direction. It was as if the wind were blowing from all four corners of the earth simultaneously. I'd never seen anything like it! Inside the harbor were four-foot waves, and they seemed to be crossing over one another, in no particular direction. It was as if the wind were blowing from all four corners of the earth simultaneously.

The limo made a right turn, and there it was: the yacht Nadine, Nadine, rising up majestically, above all the other yachts. G.o.d-how I hated the thing! Why the f.u.c.k had I bought it? I turned to my guests and said, "Is she gorgeous or what?" rising up majestically, above all the other yachts. G.o.d-how I hated the thing! Why the f.u.c.k had I bought it? I turned to my guests and said, "Is she gorgeous or what?"

Everyone nodded. Then Ophelia said, "Why are there waves in the harbor?"

The d.u.c.h.ess said, "Don't worry, O. If it's too rough we'll wait it out."

Not a f.u.c.king prayer! I thought. Movement...movement Movement...movement...I needed movement.

The limo stopped at the end of the dock, and Captain Marc was waiting to greet us. Next to him was John, the first mate. They both wore their Nadine Nadine outfits-white collared polo shirts, blue boating shorts, and gray canvas boating moccasins. Every article of clothing bore the outfits-white collared polo shirts, blue boating shorts, and gray canvas boating moccasins. Every article of clothing bore the Nadine Nadine logo, designed by Dave Ceradini for the bargain price of $8,000. logo, designed by Dave Ceradini for the bargain price of $8,000.

The d.u.c.h.ess gave Captain Marc a great hug. "Why is the harbor so rough?" she asked.

"There's a storm that popped out of nowhere," said the captain. "The seas are eight to ten feet. We should"-should-"wait 'til it dies down a bit before we head to Sardinia."

"f.u.c.k that!" I sputtered. "I gotta move right this f.u.c.king second, Marc."

The d.u.c.h.ess was quick to rain on my parade: "We're not going anywhere unless Captain Marc says it's safe."

I smiled at the safety-conscious d.u.c.h.ess and said, "Why don't you go on board and cut the tags off your new clothes? We're at sea now, honey, and I'm a G.o.d at sea!"

The d.u.c.h.ess rolled her eyes. "You're a f.u.c.king idiot, and you don't know the first thing about the sea." She turned to the group. "Come on, girls, the sea G.o.d sea G.o.d has spoken." With that, all the women laughed at me. Then, in single file, they headed to the gangway and climbed aboard the yacht-following their cherished leader, the d.u.c.h.ess of Bay Ridge. has spoken." With that, all the women laughed at me. Then, in single file, they headed to the gangway and climbed aboard the yacht-following their cherished leader, the d.u.c.h.ess of Bay Ridge.

"I can't sit in this harbor, Marc. I'm heavily post-Luded. How far is Sardinia?"

"About a hundred miles, but if we leave now it's gonna take forever to get there. We'd have to go slow. You've got eight-foot waves, and the storms are unpredictable in this part of the Med. We'd have to batten down the hatches, tie everything down in the main salon." He shrugged his square shoulders. "Even then we might sustain some damage to the interior-some broken plates, some vases, maybe a few gla.s.ses. We'll make it, but I strongly advise against it."

I looked at Rob, who compressed his lips and gave me a single nod, as if to say, "Let's do it!" Then I said, "Let's go for it, Marc!" I pumped my fist in the air. "It'll be a fabulous adventure, one for the record books!"

Captain Marc smiled and started shaking his rectangular head. And we climbed aboard and prepared to shove off.

Fifteen minutes later, I was lying on a very comfortable mattress atop the yacht's flybridge, while a dark-haired stewardess named Mich.e.l.le served me a b.l.o.o.d.y Mary. Like the rest of the crew, she wore the Nadine Nadine uniform. uniform.

"Here you go, Mr. Belfort!" said Mich.e.l.le, smiling. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Yes, Mich.e.l.le. I have a rare condition that requires me to drink one of these every fifteen minutes. And those are doctor's orders, Mich.e.l.le, so please set your egg timer or else I might wind up in the hospital."

She giggled. "Whatever you say, Mr. Belfort." She started to walk away.

"Mich.e.l.le!" I screamed, in a voice loud enough to cut through the wind and the rumble of the twin caterpillar engines.

Mich.e.l.le turned to me, and I said, "If I fall asleep, don't wake me up. Just keep bringing up the b.l.o.o.d.y Marys every fifteen minutes and line them up next to me. I'll drink them when I wake up, okay?"

She gave me the thumbs-up sign and then descended a very steep flight of stairs that led to the deck below, where the helicopter was stowed.

I looked at my watch. It was one p.m., Rome time. At this very moment, inside my stomach sac, four Ludes were dissolving. In fifteen minutes I would be tingling away; fifteen minutes after that I'd be fast asleep. How relaxing, I thought, as I downed the b.l.o.o.d.y Mary. Then I took a few deep breaths and shut my eyes. How very relaxing!

I woke up to the feeling of raindrops, but the sky was blue. That confused me. I looked to my right, and there were eight b.l.o.o.d.y Marys lined up, all filled to the rim. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. There was a ferocious wind howling. Then I felt more raindrops. What the f.u.c.k? What the f.u.c.k? I opened my eyes. Was the d.u.c.h.ess pouring water on me again? She was nowhere in sight, though. I was alone on the flybridge. I opened my eyes. Was the d.u.c.h.ess pouring water on me again? She was nowhere in sight, though. I was alone on the flybridge.

All of a sudden I felt the yacht dipping down in a most unsettling way until it reached a forty-five-degree angle, and then out of nowhere I heard a wild crashing sound. A moment later a thick wall of gray water came rising up over the side of the yacht, curled over the top of the flybridge, poured down-soaking me from head to toe.

What on G.o.d's earth? The flybridge was a good thirty feet above the water and-oh, s.h.i.t, oh, s.h.i.t-the yacht was dipping down again. Now I was being thrown on my side, and the b.l.o.o.d.y Marys went flying on top of me.

I sat up straight and looked over the side and-holy f.u.c.king s.h.i.t! The waves had to be twenty feet high, and they were thicker than buildings. Then I lost my balance. I was flying off the mattress now onto the teak deck, and the b.l.o.o.d.y Mary gla.s.ses followed me, shattering into a thousand pieces. The waves had to be twenty feet high, and they were thicker than buildings. Then I lost my balance. I was flying off the mattress now onto the teak deck, and the b.l.o.o.d.y Mary gla.s.ses followed me, shattering into a thousand pieces.

I crawled over to the side, grabbed hold of a chrome railing, and pulled myself up. I looked behind the boat and-Holy s.h.i.t! The Chandler! We were towing the Chandler! We were towing the Chandler, Chandler, a forty-two foot dive-boat, by two thick dock ropes, and it was disappearing and reappearing in the peaks and troughs of these enormous waves. a forty-two foot dive-boat, by two thick dock ropes, and it was disappearing and reappearing in the peaks and troughs of these enormous waves.

I got back on all fours and started crawling over to the stairs. The yacht felt like it was breaking apart. By the time I'd crawled down the stairway to the main deck, I'd been soaked and banged around mercilessly. I stumbled into the main salon. The entire group was sitting on the leopard-print carpet, huddled in a tight circle. They were holding hands and wearing life vests. When the d.u.c.h.ess saw me, she broke from the group and crawled toward me. But then all at once the boat began tipping wildly to port.

"Watch out!" I screamed, watching the d.u.c.h.ess roll across the carpet and smash into a wall. A moment later an antique Chinese vase went flying across the main salon and smashed into a window above her head, shattering into a thousand pieces.

Then the boat righted itself. I dropped to my hands and knees and quickly crawled over to her. "Are you all right, baby?"

She gritted her teeth at me. "You...you f.u.c.king sea G.o.d! I'm gonna kill you if we make it off this f.u.c.king boat! We're all about to die! What's going on? Why are the waves so big?" She stared at me with her enormous blue eyes.

"I don't know," I said defensively. "I was sleeping."

The d.u.c.h.ess was incredulous. "You were sleeping? How the f.u.c.k could you sleep through this? We're about to sink! Ophelia and Dave are deathly ill. So are Ross and Bonnie...and Sh.e.l.ly too!"

Just then Rob came crawling over with a great smile on his face. "Is this a f.u.c.king rip or what? I always wanted to die at sea."

The doleful d.u.c.h.ess: "Shut the f.u.c.k up, Rob! This is as much your fault as my husband's. You two are complete idiots."

"Where are the Ludes?" sputtered Rob. "I refuse to die sober."

I nodded in agreement. "I have some in my pocket...Here," and I reached into my shorts pocket, pulled out a handful of Ludes, and handed him four.

"Give me one of those!" snapped the d.u.c.h.ess. "I need to relax."

I smiled at the d.u.c.h.ess. She was a good egg, my wife! "Here you go, sweetie." I handed her a Lude.

I looked up and Ross, the brave outdoorsman, was crawling over. He looked terrified. "Oh, Jesus," he muttered, "I've gotta get off this boat. I have a daughter. I...I...I can't stop vomiting! Please, get me off this boat."

Rob said to me, "Let's go up to the bridge and see what's going on."

I looked at the d.u.c.h.ess. "You wait here, honey. I'll be right back."

"f.u.c.k that! I'm coming with you."

I nodded. "Okay, let's go."

"I'll stay down here," said the brave outdoorsman, and he started crawling back to the group with his tail between his legs. I looked at Rob, and we both started laughing. Then the three of us began crawling toward the bridge. On the way, we pa.s.sed a well-stocked bar. Rob stalled in mid-crawl and said, "I think we should do some shots of tequila."

I looked at the d.u.c.h.ess. She nodded yes. I said to Rob, "Go get the bottle." Thirty seconds later Rob came crawling back, holding a bottle of tequila. He unscrewed the top and handed it to the d.u.c.h.ess, who took a giant swig. What a woman! What a woman! I thought. Then Rob and I took swigs. I thought. Then Rob and I took swigs.

Rob screwed the top back on and threw the bottle against a wall. It smashed into a dozen pieces. He smiled. "I always wanted to do something like that."

The d.u.c.h.ess and I exchanged looks.

A short flight of stairs led from the main deck to the bridge. As we made our way up, two deckhands named Bill came barreling down, literally jumping over us. "What's going on?" I yelled.

"The diving platform just ripped off," screamed a Bill. "The main salon is gonna flood if we don't secure the rear doors." And they kept running.

The bridge was a beehive of activity. It was a small s.p.a.ce, perhaps eight by twelve feet, and it had a very low ceiling. Captain Marc was holding on to the ship's antique wooden steering wheel with both hands. Every few seconds he would take his right hand off the wheel and work the two throttles, trying to keep the bow pointed in the direction of the oncoming waves. John, the first mate, was standing next to him. He was grasping a metal pole with his left hand to maintain his balance. With his right he held a pair of binoculars to his eyes. Three stewardesses were sitting on a wooden bench, their arms interlocked and tears in their eyes. Through wild bursts of static I heard the radio blaring: Gale warning! This is a gale warning! Gale warning! This is a gale warning!

"What the f.u.c.k is going on?" I asked Captain Marc.

He shook his head gravely. "We're f.u.c.ked now! This storm is only getting worse. The waves are twenty feet and building."

"But the sky's still blue," I said innocently. "I don't get it."

An angry d.u.c.h.ess said, "Who gives a flying f.u.c.k about the color of the sky? Can't you turn us around, Marc?"

"No way," he said. "If we try to turn we're gonna get broadsided and tip over."

"Can you keep us afloat?" I asked. "Or should you call Mayday?"

"We'll make it," he replied, "but it's gonna get ugly. The blue skies are about to disappear. We're heading into the belly of a Force Eight gale."

Twenty minutes later I felt the Ludes taking hold. I whispered to Rob, "Give me some blow." I looked at the d.u.c.h.ess to see if she'd busted me.

Apparently she had. She shook her head and said, "You two are off your f.u.c.king rockers, I swear."

But it was two hours later-when the waves were thirty feet or better-that the s.h.i.t really hit the fan. Captain Marc said, in the tone of the doomed: "Oh, s.h.i.t, don't tell me..." Then an instant later he screamed, "Rogue wave! Hold on!"

Rogue wave? What the f.u.c.k was that? I found out a second later when I looked out the window-and everyone on the bridge screamed at once: "Holy s.h.i.t! Rogue wave!"

It had to be sixty feet high, and it was closing fast.

"Hold on!" screamed Captain Marc. With my right hand, I grabbed the d.u.c.h.ess around her tiny waist and pulled her close to my body. She smelled good, the d.u.c.h.ess, even now.

All at once the boat began dipping at an impossibly steep angle, until it was pointing almost straight down. Captain Marc jammed the throttles to full power, and the boat jerked forward and we started rising up the face of the rogue wave. Suddenly the boat seemed to stop on a dime. Then the wave began curling over the top of the bridge, and it came slamming down with the force of a thousand tons of dynamite...KABOOM!

Everything went black.

It felt like the boat was underwater for forever, but slowly, painfully, we popped back up again-listing heavily to port now at a sixty-degree angle.

"Is everyone okay?" asked Captain Marc.

I looked at the d.u.c.h.ess. She nodded. "We're fine," I said. "How about you, Rob?"

"Never better," he muttered, "but I gotta pee like a f.u.c.king racehorse. I'm going downstairs to check on everyone."

As Rob made his way down the stairs, one of the Bills came barreling up, screaming, "The fore-hatch just blew open! We're going down by the bow!"

"Well, that that kinda sucks," said the d.u.c.h.ess, shaking her head in resignation. "Talk about your s.h.i.tty vacations." kinda sucks," said the d.u.c.h.ess, shaking her head in resignation. "Talk about your s.h.i.tty vacations."

Captain Marc grabbed the radio transmitter and pushed the b.u.t.ton. "Mayday," he said urgently. "This is Captain Marc Elliot, aboard the yacht Nadine. Nadine. This is a Mayday: We are fifty miles off the coast of Rome and going down by the head. We require immediate a.s.sistance. We have nineteen souls on board." Then he bent over and started reading off some orange-diode numbers from a computer monitor, giving the Italian Coast Guard our exact coordinates. This is a Mayday: We are fifty miles off the coast of Rome and going down by the head. We require immediate a.s.sistance. We have nineteen souls on board." Then he bent over and started reading off some orange-diode numbers from a computer monitor, giving the Italian Coast Guard our exact coordinates.

"Go get the wish-box!" ordered the d.u.c.h.ess. "It's downstairs, in our stateroom."

I looked at her as if she were a crazy person. "What are you-"

The d.u.c.h.ess cut me off. "Get the wish-box," she screamed, "right f.u.c.king now!"

I took a deep breath. "Okay, I will, I will. But I'm f.u.c.king starving to death." I looked at Captain Marc. "Can you have the chef whip me up a sandwich?"

Captain Marc started laughing. "You know, you really are one sick b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" He shook his square head. "I'll have the chef make us some sandwiches. It's gonna be a long night."

"You're the best," I said, heading for the stairs. "Can I also get some fresh fruit?" Then I ran down the stairs.

I found my guests in the main salon, in a state of panic, tied together with a dock rope. But I wasn't the least bit worried. Soon enough, I knew, the Italian Coast Guard would be here to rescue us; in a few hours from now we'd be safe and sound, and this floating albatross would be off my neck. I asked my guests, "You guys having a fun vacation?"

No one laughed. "Are they coming to rescue us?" asked Ophelia.

I nodded. "Captain Marc just called in a Mayday. Everything's gonna be fine, guys. I gotta go downstairs. I'll be right back." I headed for the stairs-but I was immediately knocked over by another ma.s.sive wave and went crashing into a wall. I rolled back onto all fours and began crawling to the stairs.

Just then one of the Bills pa.s.sed me, screaming, "We lost the Chandler Chandler! It snapped off!" and he kept running.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs I pulled myself up by a banister. I stumbled into my stateroom through ankle-deep water and there it was: the f.u.c.king wish-box, sitting on the bed. I grabbed it, made my way back up to the bridge, and handed it to the d.u.c.h.ess. She closed her eyes and started shaking the pebbles.

I said to Captain Marc, "Maybe I can fly the helicopter off the boat. I could take four people at a time."

"Forget it," he said. "With the seas like this it'd be a miracle if you made it up without crashing. And even if you did, it'd be impossible to land again."