Drifting Rev 2

Hummmmmmmmm Hongggggggggggggggggggggggggggg In the misty night air the sound of the horn was haunting and melancholy.


That sounds like a container ship! Andy and I had been drifting with the tide, back and forth, up and down, side to side, for hours now. No wind, no power, no lights. So close to home we can almost see our apartment building, but helpless. No radio, no moon, no cell.

We’d drank at least a bottle of wine between the two of us, just on the way home from our weekend at the Isthmus and hadn’t had much to eat.

Although we finished the last of our stash hours ago I was feeling dull witted and was hovering on the edge of hysteria as I heard the deep ship’s horn blasting through the darkness. I remembered a story I’d heard over and over at my sailing club about yachts being sliced in half by container ships, even in broad daylight. Not a smart idea to play chicken with a container ship.

Every muscle in my body was tensed. The sound of the waves slapping against the bow normally so comforting, were now very simply frightening and made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Trevor was sweating through his shirt, rings of perspiration under both arms and across his neck and back. He sat at the wheel with a blank stare, eyes twitching uncontrollably as he tried to come up with a fix that might save our asses.

The wind was coming up but all it did was toss the boat back and forth, back and forth, and the sound of the lines slapping the mast only served to heighten the terror. The jagged broken boom swung wildly back and forth, just missing my head on its last violent arc.  Sometimes being tall is dangerous.

I was attempting to get closer to where Trevor was perched at the wheel and was crawling on my hands and knees, hanging onto the rails as I headed his way, leaving a trail of scarlet from my bloody knees. Trevor, look at me! I screamed. Help me! He stared blindly straight ahead, still lost in his own thoughts still trying to figure out how we got in this mess.

We’d spend a beautiful weekend getting to know each other in Twin Harbors on his gorgeous wood sailboat ""Vin Bordeaux. He was a friend of a friend, a South African guy

To be continued

©2010 Sharon J Corrigan All rights reserved

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Late for lunch Rev 1

I was running late for my workshop and decided to try pulling in the QUALCOMM driveway because the building where the meeting is held shared the parking lot; at least I think it does. I sometimes shoot right past the left turn, even with the signal, because I miss the sign and don’t know the name of the street. As I reach the crest of the hill I knew that the strategy had worked. I stepped out of the van at 11:58 and ran across the lot towards the entrance. Our vans always smell funny. It must be something EVS uses to try to clean the upholstery or carpet. It’s like all the drivers have been working at Jiffy Lube and forgot to wash their hands. I asked the ladies at reception where to go this month and I see the group admin coming out to close the door at the end of a hallway. She sees me coming and hands me a name tag with a smile, as we both go into the room. They are just getting started with the program and everyone already has their lunch. In the past, when the meetings hav
Read more

Monument Sign Rev 1

I’d been waiting for the monument sign for six weeks. The company had broken the mold and had to order a new one from the factory. Urger Shack, people drove by and laughed and no one stopped in. What the hell is an Urger ? They’d yell as he sat on the bench outside the front door, always leaving the AC on since it was the middle of summer and the food in the kitchen would spoil fast. For six weeks he’d sat on this bench, trying to figure out how to use “urger to his advantage, maybe start a trend, even a cult would work if it got people to stop at the care, even for a coke. Urger Shack, Urger shack. Wait? That ‘s it. If we’re going be silly let’s go for it. Urger Hack, get rid of the S and pretend it was cool. Urger Hack, Urger Hack, or Hurger Sack, no that made no sense at all. It was getting later, around 3 or so in the afternoon when the bus stopped. A bus, 37 screaming kids in a school bus from Salinas. Hey buddy the driver yelled, got any ice cream to shut these punks
Read more

Tuesday August 9

Waking up this morning in our Chateau near Salbris, as usual I was the first one downstairs because my friends like to sleep in.  I am still getting used to staying up past 9pm when I am with friends and have not ben successful at sleeping past 9:00am except for one day.  That one day, I was really awake but just laid in bed. So I tidied up my bedroom, and took my luggage downstairs since the bathrooms were downstairs anyway and the  stairs were so steep there was no reason to take anything but the adaptor up there, and maybe my phone.  With my friends we all spent many hours on facebook, and Didier is very good at doing research on the Internet. I took my shower and got dressed after loading up the coffee machine and turning it on so it would be ready when I was dressed.  I think this morning I worked on my blog, but maybe not since we were leaving pretty early for Chateau Chambord.  Yesterday after we arrived here, and got the tour from the father of our host, Didier and Anne too
Read more