Wednesday, July 30, 2014

SHORT STORY (5) BLUE DAWN

BLUE DAWN  By Gerard O'Neil

The small yacht motored over the long oily swells leaving a trail of salty bubbles and the coast behind her.  For hours there hadn’t been a breath of wind, so John, the yachts young skipper, had not been able to hoist a sail. 

Just before sunset, a zephyr of wind danced its light hearted way across the smooth surface of the sea. As it passed, John felt a slight movement of air on his cheek.
‘There is wind out there somewhere,’ he shouted to no one in particular as he was the only living soul within miles! 

Soon another zephyr approached. It was traveling much faster than the last. As it went by, a corner of the mainsail gave a lazy flap. A few minutes later a light breeze set in. John hoisted the Mainsail and Genoa and once they were drawing nicely turned off the engine. After connecting the self steering system, he went below to prepare something to eat.

John returned on deck just as the first stars were beginning to appear.  He searched the horizon for ships and then began to steer my hand. He loved beautiful nights like this. Soon a full moon arose turning the ocean a silvery white.

As the night wore on, the odd shower cloud appeared. One of them passed to one side of the moon. Moonlight reflecting through its rain produced a beautiful ghostly white rainbow. John stared in amazement. He knew he was observing an extraordinary rare natural phenomenon. For the first time since he had left port he felt sad and lonely. He had no one to share this special moment with! The rainbow lasted for perhaps three minutes before the cloud was gently blown on.

 By 02:00 hrs John was feeling fatigued. He reconnected the self steering system and retired below to his bunk. He awoke just before 05:00 hrs and turned on the radio to listen to the marine forecast. The news wasn’t good. A cold front was advancing quickly up the coast bringing with it strong winds and heavy rain.


During the morning the seas began to build. Clouds appeared over the horizon and began marching in his direction eating up the blue sky as they approached. By late afternoon they had nothing more to devour. The sky had turned completely black and it began to rain heavily. The wind grew so strong it became unwise to carry any sail so John brought Blue Dawn’s bow into the wind and “hove to’. By night fall the sea had become a mass of broken foam and flying spray. John retreated below to wait things out.

Below decks the noise of the storm was a little less intense, but not the motion. Blue Dawn would slowly climb a wave, momentary balance on its crest and then whoosh down the other side.  Sometimes she didn’t whoosh down, she simply fall with an almighty crash. All Johns’ energy was devoted to clinging to his bunk trying to avoid physical injury. His nerves were so stretched that sleep was impossible.

Daybreak took a long time to arrive, and when it did, it revealed a world painted gray and without hope. Not long after John heard a noise that made his heart freeze. Even though he had never heard such a sound before, he knew exactly what was coming. Death was approaching and rapidly! He shot out on deck, quickly closing the hatch behind him.   The noise came closer and closer and then a massive wave came into view. It was traveling at right angles to the other waves and where the two met, the sea turned into a mass of confession and destruction. The huge wave broke about 20 meters away then began to gather itself up ready for another destructive leap forward. Blue Dawn was sucked into its base and then began to climb upward. Up, up, up they rose. On the crest they balanced momentarily. For a few seconds John had a 360ยบ panorama of miles and miles of storm tossed ocean. Blue Dawn began to gather speed and went surfing totally out of control down the waves face. At any second John expected Blue Dawn to turn turtle. Then with a deafening roar the wave broke and John found himself swimming in a mass of spray and foam.

  
By some miracle they both survived.  John slid the hatch open and went below. By now he was at past the limit of his physical endurance. With difficulty he went to the navigation table and noted the following information in the ships log:
‘Date: 23/09/2002     Time: 10:37    Wind Speed:  SW 50 knots:    Estimated Boat Speed:  4 knots.  Comments: “Hove to”. ‘Almost sunk by a massive wave. Totally exhausted. Desperately need to sleep!’
He returned the log to its position on the navigation table and went to his bunk. He was too tired to worry any more about the storm or if he lived or died. Within seconds he had fallen into an exhausted sleep.

Sometime later John awoke to the sound of singing. It was coming from out on deck. Looking through the hatch window he saw a strange figure at the helm. His face was extremely weather worn and he was dressed in a black sou´wester, just like the ancient mariners of old. For some reason John didn’t think his presence was at all strange. Rather than going on deck to investigate further, he simply turned over and let the visiting helmsman’s singing lull him back to sleep.

John woke with a start. Someone was shouting urgently for him. In an instant he was on deck. Little less than a mile astern he saw an enormous cargo ship on a collision course with them. Each lunge of the ship took caused a huge quantity of spray to fly into the air. The wind would then whip it back over her superstructure causing the craft to momentarily disappear. In the storm conditions, John knew that Blue Dawn would be just one more piece of static on the vessels radar. No one on the ship would be aware of their presence. John swung the helm hard over and started the engine. For what seemed like an eternity nothing happened, and then ever so slowly Blue Dawn began to draw away from the rapidly approaching wall of steel. They cleared the ship’s bow with less than 30 meters to spare.  John collapsed on deck and nervously watched as the vessel continued on her blind journey. Once he had calmed down a little, he returned below. As he was sliding the hatch closed he noticed that to the south the weather was showing a slight sign of improvement.


Hours later John awake. There wasn’t a sound. Out on deck the sun was shining and the sea was calm. He soon had all of the sails set and Blue Dawn sailing on her own. He went below to listen to the marine forecast. The announcer was promising fine weather and light winds for at least the next three days. To round off the forecast the announcer   dedicated an old sea shanty to all the brave mariners out at sea presently listening. To John’s amazement he recognized the song immediately. It was the same song the ancient mariner who had helped him during the storm, (or rather, the ancient mariner he had dreamt about during the storm), had been singing.  As the song finished the hairs on Johns’ neck stood on end. He could have sworn someone had gently pushed past him on their way topsides. 

Turning off the radio John went to the navigation desk to update the ships log. To his surprise the log wasn’t in its allocated place. While he was looking for it he heard someone shout from up on deck:
‘Bye, bye Skipper. Have a pleasant voyage!’
John rushed up the companionway stairs. There was no one there! To his amazement however, in the cockpit he found an empty whisky bottle rolling from side to side in rhythm to the boats motion.  (It hadn’t been there a few minutes earlier). John picked it up. It still contained a mouth full of strong smelling alcohol.  He was dumbfounded. He had no idea where the bottle had come from. 

While still trying to make “head or tail” of the mysterious bottle, John spotted the ship’s log in a corner of the cockpit. He was taken aback. He never took the logbook on deck! He opened it at its last page. To his astonishment there were a series of entries written in a hand other than his own. The entries recorded wind speed, sea conditions and various events that had happened during the previous 24 hours while he had been asleep. One entry stated that the author had called the “Skipper” topsides, because a ship was about to run them down. The last entry had been written less than five minutes previously. It simply read:

‘Skipper now recovered. Am handing command back to him.’
 All entries were dated the year 1876!
  
TO PRINT

No comments:

Post a Comment