The Storm
Phil had a dilemma. He was English and he had brought lavender scented oatmeal hand soap aboard on his first day. He was, well, proper. But now Phil's dignity was threatened. He was on a wooden schooner that apparently was sinking in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. He knew this because Allen kept frantically handing him buckets of water which he then handed to Steve, who then threw the water out of the hatch. Allen and Steve were inspired. They were proving the age old adage, “There is no better bilge pump than a frightened man with a five gallon bucket.”
Phil's concentration was diluted however by his very pressing dilemma. The dilemma was the fact that he had to pee very badly. He struggled with the idea of pissing himself, scarred by memories of child hood humiliation from staunch teachers and cruel friends, yet the idea of stopping the bucket brigade for a toilet break seemed completely absurd. To drown with dignity or forever live with knowing that he silently wet himself. Phil's dilemma made him struggle as Allan's focused efforts kept the buckets coming at a slightly faster pace than Phil's distracted state could handle.
It was not the only dilemma aboard at the time.............
Fear is not always a bad thing. These days the swing sets have rubberized dirt beneath them, if such dangerous equipment is allowed on the playground. We are bubble wrapping our children and ourselves, to a point where the concept of personal responsibility is dissolving………………………….
The Explosion
I heard a “phoof” and I had time to think, “Oh damn, the pilot light!” Then there was a BOOM from an explosion that shook the hillsides. That split second was the beginning of a time that I know call “Bonus Days”. That means all of the days that I have been alive since. By all rights, I should be dead.
I almost moved into the next dimension for the simple act of trying to kill the roaches on the boat. In an attempt to rid myself of the crawly scourge I nearly eliminated myself ! …...................
Eliot was the first to come aboard and he braved the fumes and debris to come below. Eliot still believes I am a ghost. He always has this funny look in his eye when he talks to me. He slowly looked around in stunned silence at the smouldering wreckage. Then he ask, “Where were you?” When I pointed to the spot he got a little pale and looked at me in the way that he has ever since. He turned and walked away and would not talk to me for weeks. He is scared of ghost...................................................
Life can change completely in a mere moment. There is a lot to be said for the now, and I enjoyed a spectacular realization of that each morning when I felt my first breath and knew it was miracle. My day then became huge challenge, as the wreckage of Cassiopeia confronted me, but I had this amazing feeling of………………………..
The Naval Exercises
Christian and I were on watch not long after dark. It very rarely is completely dark at sea and it is astonishing how well you can see in the dead of night if it has been a while since you looked at a bright light. People don’t normally sit in their room at bedtime after they have turned out the lights and stare for twenty minutes straining to see anything they can. That is exactly what you do when you are on night watch in the middle of the ocean......................
Moonless nights such as this night have a different light, almost brighter with out the stark shadows created by the moons near sun like presence. It is as though there is simply a little light everywhere, the whole sky slightly aglow with illumination coming from every angle.....................
We had been on our quiet watch for over an hour and our eyes had reached their pinnacle of abilities so simultaneously we caught the new light off to starboard and turned in perfect synchronicity to look at the sea. Neither of us said anything as we both grappled to understand what the swiftly approaching light source could be or mean. It was one of those times when reason is confused by an image that defies reason. The conclusions that your mind comes up with seem ridiculous, impossible, but the only associations you can make to such an image are what is logged in your minds history.
Christian said “What does that look like to you?” I stammered “Torpedoes”. “Me too” he instantly replied. Two perfectly straight trails in the phosphorescent sea were headed directly at the beam of the boat at the exact speed of every torpedo I have ever seen depicted in the movies. Green wakes of brilliant bio-luminescence frothing off of the propellers at the back with a round conical nose pushing glowing sparkles aside, speeding along a long cylindrical body.
“Why would anyone shoot torpedoes at us?” I said. We were a thousand miles from the nearest land, who could be out here? Still, two hundred meters away they were coming fast and it was imminent they were gong to strike the boat right in the middle. Christian speculated.” American navvy exercise we got into? “Come on,” I said but there seemed little other explanation and I actually began to believe that we could have been so unlucky as to have sailed across the path of some war games. The perfect formation did not waiver and appeared to have been directly aimed at us from a long way away.
Time was up and they were a few short meters away. We both took a step back away from the rail..................
I have never been to war. I have never seen a real torpedo. I grew up in an era however where I could sit in a comfortable theater seat and have torpedoes depicted in perfect living colour with high definition surround sound replicating the explosion and rattling my bones as bodies flew and blood covered the sea. War is so obviously stupid. I have met a number of single handing sailors who have suffered the horrors and have gone to sea to get away. While doing a delivery with John he opened up and some stories came out that................................
