By Beverley Jackson
Just like a travel brochure, it was idyllic; the soft lapping against the hull; sun setting over water in shades of red-orange melding into purple-blue. Wetting a line… Doesn’t get much better!
I had my daughter to thank. Dad you should do some male bonding with Tug. He knows boats. Tug, by the way is my future son-in-law. Brawny bloke, built like a proverbial tugboat.
The boat-hire bloke said a possibility of storms. Tug had looked up at the clear blue sky and shook his head.
How wrong he was…
It sure gets dark on the water when storm clouds roll in. Ocean and air become one black mass. Then lightening flashes and everything becomes as iridescent as a welder’s strobe. Huge feral waves were crashing over the deck and the boat began jumping and bucking, reminding me of my rodeo days.
Hope this thing is water-tight, I yell. I then follow Tug’s gaze to the cabin floor. I don’t know much about boats, but one thing I do know. Start the bilge pump, I shout. Where would that be? Tug shouts back. And I thought he was a mariner…
As the boat lunges and rolls and the lightening crackles and sizzles, like two drunken sailors we frantically despatch buckets of water. It was stay afloat or sink. Eventually to our relief, the storm passed and with it the inundation; drenched and exhausted we fell into our soggy bunks.
Next, Tug’s shaking me awake. The anchor’s dragging, he says. How’s that? I ask. See that light? He points excitedly. It’s the sea wall – entrance to the bar and onto the open sea. The outgoing tide was drawing us ruthlessly towards it.
I’m not a praying man but I say, God help us. How’d you stop it dragging? I ask anxiously. Dunno. Better call the Coast Guard. Tug grabs the radio. Mayday…Mayday… No answer. It was then that I notice the power switch.
The helpful Coast Guard asks – did you try starting the motor? Tug gives me a look of dawning comprehension. He revs the engine into life and promptly lands us high and dry on a sandbar.
It was first light when eventually the incoming tide allowed us to float and head back to the marina. Tug says, wasn’t that awesome?
I say, of two things I am certain. Never will I leave terra firma again and if you marry my daughter, she must under no circumstances go boating with you.
