The sky turns black, the winds howling, the waves are huge. Just then all hell breaks loose.
I hurry below, put on my foul weather gear and safety harness, I scramble back up on deck. Take down the Main sail, tie it quickly to the boom. Reef the mizzen sail, crank the wheel over and tie it off. We heave to fast as I can. I go below get the storm boards, one at a time. Barely getting them on. The wind almost knocks me over. That done. I make my way back into the cockpit. A wave crashes on me. I hang on for dear life. Then scramble down below.
Things begin to fly around the cabin. Theanna’s bouncing and rolling over, hit by the waves. Coming from all directions. I climb into the pilots berth next to the main cabin doors. I brace my self. Start to say my prayers. This is a horrible storm, it came upreally fast. The stove is shaking and my body is too. The waves are getting bigger and bigger.
And so are my eyes.
Excerpt from Tim O’Connor’s book: “Part One Frantic Romantic”.
More? Check his website at: www.hitchhikingpoet.com