Hold Fast

Hold Fast

“Hold on,” I yelled to Laura, my girlfriend of two months, as a large wave of water tumbled over the bow of my thirty-two-foot sailboat.

“I’m holding on,” she yelled back as the wave swept over us and then drained from the scuppers. She had gotten a mouthful of seawater and threw up again. Things were not going well. This was the front of the storm so the worst had not hit us yet, but it was coming, and there was nothing I could do about it.

We had taken off from Marathon last night heading for Key West for a week’s vacation. Maybe it was one or two rums too many because I committed the sailor's sin, and I had not checked the weather. I knew that the Bahamas were experiencing a tropical storm, but that was not really something I thought we would have to worry about. I was wrong. It turned into a hurricane and picked up speed. Our Thirty-two-foot palace had turned into a prison. A very wet prison.

“How long will this last,” she asked, her knuckles white from gripping the rail so tightly.

“A long time. We have to get more sea room so we don’t end up washed ashore. The worst of the storm hasn’t hit us yet. I’m going to have to drop all the sails and we are going to bob like a cork until it passes. I’ll put out a drogue, too.” I said as I planned our actions.

“My second time sailing. What the hell is a drogue.?”

“It’s basically a large cloth funnel that you put in the water off the bow with a rope and it keeps your bow into the waves and slows down your drift.” Another large wave washed over us but she didn’t swallow any of it this time. She shook the water out of her hair and actually smiled at me.

“You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

“I try,” we laughed out loud together. She was something special.

For the next hour, we clawed our way out to sea. Then we lowered our sails and I threw out the drogue. We went into the cabin and locked ourselves in tight. We changed out of our wet clothes with great difficulty as we were being tossed around. We laid down on one of the bunks together and strapped ourselves in. The boat felt as though it rocked a full ninety degrees every few seconds. She never complained.

She was the first woman that I had more than one date with since my divorce a year ago. It’s hard you know, dating. Everything is online now. After 20 years of marriage, you don’t really trust much on the internet. Hell, I’d been out of the scene for so long I had to ask my secretary what swipe right or swipe left meant. I hated it.

We hit it off well when I asked her to get a drink and things just fell into place from there. This was her second time on the boat. The first time we had sailed to a sand bar and had lunch and a swim. It was nice, very nice. It was the first time we made love.

“Hey, What are you thinking about? I see that big smile of yours and I think I feel something else,” she said as we kept rolling back and forth.

“I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh, That’s good.”

Just then a large wave knocked the boat on its side. I looked out the windows and they were underwater. The sound of bottles breaking and pans and dishes flying around the cabin came to us. There was little that we could do about that right now. The boat slowly righted itself and the drogue took hold again keeping our bow toward the waves. When the hurricane hit the sound of the wind was so loud that we couldn’t speak. We were tossed around for hours being bruised and battered. Then everything got very quiet. The waves were still big but much better.

“Is it over,” she asked

“No, darling it’s just the eye of the storm. We probably have about ten minutes before it hits again. I’m going to run the pumps and take a look outside.”

We got out of the bunk and the cabin was a mess. It looked as though the whole boat had been turned upside down and shaken like a baby rattle. I opened the cabin hatch to a beautiful sunny sky. I looked around the cockpit and saw it was not much better than inside the boat. Lines were everywhere and trash that the storm had picked up and dropped on us littered the deck. I tried to straighten things out a bit while I let the bilge pump work. I could see the storm that had passed us in the distance with its dark clouds and lightning. I turned off the pump as the second part of the storm hit. I was thrown off balance and hit my head hard on the cabin top and fell down the stairs into the cabin. I woke up twelve hours later. Laura was holding me in her arms and whispering to me.

“You’re alive,” she said and kissed me several times.

“What happened?’

“You hit your head pretty hard and fell right there. Water was coming in through the hatch and I knew I had to close it or we’d sink. So I did. I couldn’t pick you up and I wasn’t sure what to do so I placed pillows around us and held onto you. The storm passed about an hour ago, but I didn’t want to let you go. I’m so tired. That was the scariest thing I have ever been through. I think I want to sleep for a week. I hear Key West is nice this time of year,” she said smiling.

I smiled back. Nothing like living through a hurricane to seal the deal.