Robert Alan
02-06-2017, 09:12 PM
Rocking back and forth, side to side, corner to corner, and clutched to the metal tube connecting chair to floor. The orange vest supposedly protecting me from the angry sea attempting to consume our thirty-five-foot fiberglass home. If this ocean can take out two tons, what could it do to ninety-five pounds. Dad’s vision fixated on the horizon, on the slightest glimpse of land, of hope, of life that would destroy all panic aboard the ship. A few worried glances exchanged as each wave crashed along port and starboard, bow, deck, and stern. Two engines belonging to this vessel and its personality of disliking the right one. Two working motors perhaps, might avoid the storm, but one **** engine should do the trick of drenching all in fear of a pop up tropic.
“MAYDAY MAYDAY” my father repeated consistently into the fixed-mounted white VHF caller. Though not yet capsized or stuck, the inevitable was in plain sight and as a forewarning he updated coordinates every five minutes of pummeling from Neptune’s wrath. Longitudes and latitudes and constant enormous bumps. Each number repeated carefully into the caller as if not to mix up our location. Numbers always seemed cursed, and these were telling us land was but a dream to reach.
Finally, he took a longer look at me. I saw the look of love he had for me, and my general calmness about the whole situation.
“Are you doing ok buddy?”
“I think so.”
“Keep holding on to the chair, alright? And make sure that your jacket is strapped. Does it feel okay?
“Yeah, but it itches my neck”
“Just soldier through it, we’ll make it out alright. Hey, blow your whistle for me, let’s make sure it works when we make it to land so we can wake Rodger up when he sleeps in again”
Shared nervous laughter between the two of us
“PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR”
It worked, but before a witty and calming reply was uttered the largest bump jerked both of us to the left and my father nearly knocked down, if not for his death grip on the steering wheel.
BANG! WHOOSH! SPLOOSH! A large one, about six feet tall thudded against the port, and brought along with it a mass of rushing sea water.
Another. BANG! BANG! BANG! And a hoard of water was now creeping its way into our lives unwantedly.
The more thuds brought upon us an alarming amount of water. This was starting to becoming a concern to my father as he noticed the water rising to his ankles, and for me the tops of my knees as I sat on them with both legs sticking out to the right gripping the metal pole. I wanted to move but my fears of losing balance and having my father yell at me to sit back down kept me afloat.
White caps were turning into surfable waves as the storm seemed to be brewing something strong. Wind howled across the water, turning the surface in to something that resembled the water of a flushing toilet. The sky was a vibrant gray, as it seemed the sun was trying to burst through the storm itself and bring us light, though the sea spray was blinding enough to block it out.
The motor making inconsistent speeds as each wave brought the uphill obstacle, slowing down the process of moving forward. Each bump must be carefully maneuvered as to not tip the front directly in the eerie brown. With enough practice, the slight veer, be it right or left, with each downhill thrust, became second nature to my father. Watching him navigate these seas was a dazzling sight. With each obstacle the seas brought, his dexterity with the helm brought a calming thought, something that made me feel that everything will be okay.
Water levels were still coming in, not so much at an alarming rate, but one that doesn’t go unnoticed. He gave me a look of serious thought and consideration. He concluded the judgement that made the puzzled stare.
“Take the wheel while I get a bucket from the cabin.”
My heart sank deep. “I can’t”
“Don’t say you can’t, I know you can. If you don’t the water will only keep rising.”
“Come on, remember everything we talked about last time. The throttle controls the speed, the wheel turns the boat. It’s that simple.”
I couldn’t get a word of protest in as he scattered across the boat towards the front cabin, hunched over with his left arm covering his face from the rain and sea. The wheel was untamed, my hands couldn’t control the boat, the boat couldn’t handle this ocean. Every motion I tried, countered by the power. Left was going right, and nothing was smooth. Rough water haunted attempts of captaining this gray nightmare.
“THE STEERING IS HARD TO CONTROL, I KNOW. KEEP THE ENGINE AT A STEADY SPEED, NOT TOO FAST.”
I don’t think he saw my nod.
“AND DON’T FORGET TO…”
WHACK
A rouge giant slammed against the boat knocking both of us left. I gazed across the boat to find him unconscious, or dead or… something.
“DAD”
“DAD”
DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD”
Not responding. Boat still running, no time to go over, no time to check.
Now it was my turn to steer this thing across. Every attempt to manage, to control, seemed unpromising. Though the feeling of hopelessness was filling my body and overflowing to my shaky hands, I gripped the reflective steering wheel and continued to attempt the feat of conquering the wild boat. A glimpse at the wheel: I saw a young boy, red-faced and crying, warped and confused. There was no time to think of my feelings, the sea would not wait. I clutched the wheel and attempted to tame her. Trying to take dramatic turns lead to nearly capsizing every time. After getting a feel for these controls, I suddenly felt comfortable to figure out where I needed to be going.
A look at the compass, that seemed to appear from nowhere, completely ignored by the dramatics that engulfed my thoughts, deemed we were on a northern course. West was where we needed to be. Remembering the sharp turns, I once tried to take, I subtly shifted the wheel left. Smoothly as it was going, another wave found me going North once again. My heart sank as the compass needle began to swirl and dance. It wouldn’t stop. Tears covered my face, outshining the rain and sea water already occupied there. I must still be moving North, I had to be. Though I knew where to go, the sea wouldn’t allow me.
Left turn
Wave
Left turn
Wave
Left turn
Another crash. Each left turn jerking me back to the right. As where I went, so did the boat. Sadness began to turn into frustration as I belted a squeaky, head voice, and cracked “AAAAHHHHHHHHHahhhhhhhhaAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAahhhhhhhhh ”.
Left again
A jerk back north.
“AHHH”
Again, and again I turned left to only be forcefully pulled back on my track due north. Realizing now that my father’s limp body must be taking the heaviest blows from my stubbornness. Looks like north was the path for now.
Memories back on shore creeped between the bumps caused by the rough waters. Mom’s steak and mashed potatoes and peas must have been waiting for me by now, or are they? Has it been four hours or four years? I had no concept, or most importantly, concern for the time. I had to focus solely on the boat, on the sea, and my father. I never even fell in love yet. I don’t think I’ve even had a crush. I’ve only began drawing and playing baseball. All my dreams, hopes… everything was being cut short by this damn storm. “HAHAHAHAHAHA” I couldn’t help but laugh. My whole body and mind numb, but mouth making laughter. Even if I survive this thing, what dreams can I have being this young, why am I concerned with the hell around me, and why do I continue to concern myself. Why? Nothing seemed fair. The divorce, Paul’s accident, and now this. Everything is already falling apart and why am I at the wheel, when I can hardly reach the thing while sitting down. I stood. I stood barely peaking over the vinyl windshield. Due north with a falling sun. God, have I thought about this that long?
That’s over, but the external bumbling continued. If he were face down, I’m sure he’d drown by now, but luckily my father lied on his side with his right arm pillowing his head. He looked somehow comfortable sleeping in all this mess.
Golden light. Circled and surrounded by dark clouds in this land of light. The compass needle steadily pointing north now. “YOU OK?” Wait… DAD!
“How long was I out?”
“I don’t know”
“Where are we?”
“I don’t know”
“The water seems to be flowing out faster than it’s coming in”
“Yes”
Things seemed to be up. Orange sky, golden hour.
As he got up, a bump occupied the right side of his forehead. No bleeding, no cut. Only this bump, and not the gash I assumed to be there. I pulled the throttle towards me and slowed down the boat. I carefully inched my way towards him, grabbing every stable surface I can. He grabbed my outreached left arm, as my right arm clutched to a metal tube that connected the canopy over the control center. He was now standing up and controlling the wheel.
Between two statued gray storm clouds was a path, a path west. We booked it for the split cloud track, and, without a hitch, my father turned left. As we were leaving this golden haze I looked out to my right… North. Though the northern course proved to be beautiful, the largest storm cloud had outshined the lights in the foreground. And as I looked closer a dark gray metallic cylinder appeared to surface and then submerge itself back in the water. With each emerging breach, more of it seemed to appear. My eyes now fixated on this... whale? Or perhaps it may even be a submarine. I kept staring off to the north though we chugged on west. The more I looked, the more I yearned to take the wheel back and jerk it right. But as I looked straight ahead I saw the path narrowing, and there was no opportunity but now to make it between those clouds. I looked left to the stern and unphased look of him, as if this has happened before. He kept looking straight as if there was nothing to the right, so I followed him and did the same.
Now sandwiched between these two clouds, we seemed to be pulling left, then being sucked right. Each way trying to pull us harder from our westward way, but both clouds acting as two repelling magnets. We kept going, and as we did the sky darkened. As the blackness of night seemed to engulf us, lights appeared. Green, red. A channel… a jetty. Calm waters now, and a glance of my father revealed a look of relief, and a quick soul search of my own had me feeling the same. Just as we entered the river a loud POP came from the engine and we came to a gliding stop. We exchanged looks and gave out a quick chuckle. He reached for the oars in the cabinet, and handed me one. We rowed on into the dark towards the copper lighted docks, between the green and red markers.
“MAYDAY MAYDAY” my father repeated consistently into the fixed-mounted white VHF caller. Though not yet capsized or stuck, the inevitable was in plain sight and as a forewarning he updated coordinates every five minutes of pummeling from Neptune’s wrath. Longitudes and latitudes and constant enormous bumps. Each number repeated carefully into the caller as if not to mix up our location. Numbers always seemed cursed, and these were telling us land was but a dream to reach.
Finally, he took a longer look at me. I saw the look of love he had for me, and my general calmness about the whole situation.
“Are you doing ok buddy?”
“I think so.”
“Keep holding on to the chair, alright? And make sure that your jacket is strapped. Does it feel okay?
“Yeah, but it itches my neck”
“Just soldier through it, we’ll make it out alright. Hey, blow your whistle for me, let’s make sure it works when we make it to land so we can wake Rodger up when he sleeps in again”
Shared nervous laughter between the two of us
“PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR”
It worked, but before a witty and calming reply was uttered the largest bump jerked both of us to the left and my father nearly knocked down, if not for his death grip on the steering wheel.
BANG! WHOOSH! SPLOOSH! A large one, about six feet tall thudded against the port, and brought along with it a mass of rushing sea water.
Another. BANG! BANG! BANG! And a hoard of water was now creeping its way into our lives unwantedly.
The more thuds brought upon us an alarming amount of water. This was starting to becoming a concern to my father as he noticed the water rising to his ankles, and for me the tops of my knees as I sat on them with both legs sticking out to the right gripping the metal pole. I wanted to move but my fears of losing balance and having my father yell at me to sit back down kept me afloat.
White caps were turning into surfable waves as the storm seemed to be brewing something strong. Wind howled across the water, turning the surface in to something that resembled the water of a flushing toilet. The sky was a vibrant gray, as it seemed the sun was trying to burst through the storm itself and bring us light, though the sea spray was blinding enough to block it out.
The motor making inconsistent speeds as each wave brought the uphill obstacle, slowing down the process of moving forward. Each bump must be carefully maneuvered as to not tip the front directly in the eerie brown. With enough practice, the slight veer, be it right or left, with each downhill thrust, became second nature to my father. Watching him navigate these seas was a dazzling sight. With each obstacle the seas brought, his dexterity with the helm brought a calming thought, something that made me feel that everything will be okay.
Water levels were still coming in, not so much at an alarming rate, but one that doesn’t go unnoticed. He gave me a look of serious thought and consideration. He concluded the judgement that made the puzzled stare.
“Take the wheel while I get a bucket from the cabin.”
My heart sank deep. “I can’t”
“Don’t say you can’t, I know you can. If you don’t the water will only keep rising.”
“Come on, remember everything we talked about last time. The throttle controls the speed, the wheel turns the boat. It’s that simple.”
I couldn’t get a word of protest in as he scattered across the boat towards the front cabin, hunched over with his left arm covering his face from the rain and sea. The wheel was untamed, my hands couldn’t control the boat, the boat couldn’t handle this ocean. Every motion I tried, countered by the power. Left was going right, and nothing was smooth. Rough water haunted attempts of captaining this gray nightmare.
“THE STEERING IS HARD TO CONTROL, I KNOW. KEEP THE ENGINE AT A STEADY SPEED, NOT TOO FAST.”
I don’t think he saw my nod.
“AND DON’T FORGET TO…”
WHACK
A rouge giant slammed against the boat knocking both of us left. I gazed across the boat to find him unconscious, or dead or… something.
“DAD”
“DAD”
DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD”
Not responding. Boat still running, no time to go over, no time to check.
Now it was my turn to steer this thing across. Every attempt to manage, to control, seemed unpromising. Though the feeling of hopelessness was filling my body and overflowing to my shaky hands, I gripped the reflective steering wheel and continued to attempt the feat of conquering the wild boat. A glimpse at the wheel: I saw a young boy, red-faced and crying, warped and confused. There was no time to think of my feelings, the sea would not wait. I clutched the wheel and attempted to tame her. Trying to take dramatic turns lead to nearly capsizing every time. After getting a feel for these controls, I suddenly felt comfortable to figure out where I needed to be going.
A look at the compass, that seemed to appear from nowhere, completely ignored by the dramatics that engulfed my thoughts, deemed we were on a northern course. West was where we needed to be. Remembering the sharp turns, I once tried to take, I subtly shifted the wheel left. Smoothly as it was going, another wave found me going North once again. My heart sank as the compass needle began to swirl and dance. It wouldn’t stop. Tears covered my face, outshining the rain and sea water already occupied there. I must still be moving North, I had to be. Though I knew where to go, the sea wouldn’t allow me.
Left turn
Wave
Left turn
Wave
Left turn
Another crash. Each left turn jerking me back to the right. As where I went, so did the boat. Sadness began to turn into frustration as I belted a squeaky, head voice, and cracked “AAAAHHHHHHHHHahhhhhhhhaAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAahhhhhhhhh ”.
Left again
A jerk back north.
“AHHH”
Again, and again I turned left to only be forcefully pulled back on my track due north. Realizing now that my father’s limp body must be taking the heaviest blows from my stubbornness. Looks like north was the path for now.
Memories back on shore creeped between the bumps caused by the rough waters. Mom’s steak and mashed potatoes and peas must have been waiting for me by now, or are they? Has it been four hours or four years? I had no concept, or most importantly, concern for the time. I had to focus solely on the boat, on the sea, and my father. I never even fell in love yet. I don’t think I’ve even had a crush. I’ve only began drawing and playing baseball. All my dreams, hopes… everything was being cut short by this damn storm. “HAHAHAHAHAHA” I couldn’t help but laugh. My whole body and mind numb, but mouth making laughter. Even if I survive this thing, what dreams can I have being this young, why am I concerned with the hell around me, and why do I continue to concern myself. Why? Nothing seemed fair. The divorce, Paul’s accident, and now this. Everything is already falling apart and why am I at the wheel, when I can hardly reach the thing while sitting down. I stood. I stood barely peaking over the vinyl windshield. Due north with a falling sun. God, have I thought about this that long?
That’s over, but the external bumbling continued. If he were face down, I’m sure he’d drown by now, but luckily my father lied on his side with his right arm pillowing his head. He looked somehow comfortable sleeping in all this mess.
Golden light. Circled and surrounded by dark clouds in this land of light. The compass needle steadily pointing north now. “YOU OK?” Wait… DAD!
“How long was I out?”
“I don’t know”
“Where are we?”
“I don’t know”
“The water seems to be flowing out faster than it’s coming in”
“Yes”
Things seemed to be up. Orange sky, golden hour.
As he got up, a bump occupied the right side of his forehead. No bleeding, no cut. Only this bump, and not the gash I assumed to be there. I pulled the throttle towards me and slowed down the boat. I carefully inched my way towards him, grabbing every stable surface I can. He grabbed my outreached left arm, as my right arm clutched to a metal tube that connected the canopy over the control center. He was now standing up and controlling the wheel.
Between two statued gray storm clouds was a path, a path west. We booked it for the split cloud track, and, without a hitch, my father turned left. As we were leaving this golden haze I looked out to my right… North. Though the northern course proved to be beautiful, the largest storm cloud had outshined the lights in the foreground. And as I looked closer a dark gray metallic cylinder appeared to surface and then submerge itself back in the water. With each emerging breach, more of it seemed to appear. My eyes now fixated on this... whale? Or perhaps it may even be a submarine. I kept staring off to the north though we chugged on west. The more I looked, the more I yearned to take the wheel back and jerk it right. But as I looked straight ahead I saw the path narrowing, and there was no opportunity but now to make it between those clouds. I looked left to the stern and unphased look of him, as if this has happened before. He kept looking straight as if there was nothing to the right, so I followed him and did the same.
Now sandwiched between these two clouds, we seemed to be pulling left, then being sucked right. Each way trying to pull us harder from our westward way, but both clouds acting as two repelling magnets. We kept going, and as we did the sky darkened. As the blackness of night seemed to engulf us, lights appeared. Green, red. A channel… a jetty. Calm waters now, and a glance of my father revealed a look of relief, and a quick soul search of my own had me feeling the same. Just as we entered the river a loud POP came from the engine and we came to a gliding stop. We exchanged looks and gave out a quick chuckle. He reached for the oars in the cabinet, and handed me one. We rowed on into the dark towards the copper lighted docks, between the green and red markers.