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Blown Away
The floating docks are dimly lit by low wattage lights mounted every 20’, providing just enough light for safe foot passage. Walking on the docks, between the rows of boats, produces an unsettling sensation to the uninitiated, as they move from the weight of the person above and flow of the currents below.
A few of the boats have their interior lights on, lighting up the dock in random patterns of yellow and white. The salt air is fresh and clean, occasionally tainted by hint of exhaust in the air from an idling boat. Off in the distance, is a small green light that appears to be floating in the black void, the port side navigation light of a small boat in transit down the channel. It moves, slowly, as if suspend at some unknown height and distance from the observer.
I removed my street shoes and stepped onto the deck, as the boat rocked under my weight.
“Please take your shoes off, they can scratch the deck if you have any stones or gravel stuck in the soles,” I said to my guests.
“Is it safe to do this at night?” asked Steve, reluctance obvious in his voice. This just did not sound right, coming from someone with the size and bearing of a linebacker. It made me smile, inwardly.
“Steve, just relax, the experience will blow you away, I promise. It’s quite safe, as long as you know what you are doing and where you are going,” I told him. My tone, I hoped, both confident and matter of fact. I knew Steve had never been on the ocean in his life and neither had his younger brother, Roger. Both had expressed an interest and inquisitiveness that was far removed from his current hesitancy, when I first showed them pictures of the boat.
That was several weeks ago and this was the first time I was able to convince them to take an evening cruise with me.
I find the serenity and solitude of the ocean quite relaxing, especially in the evening. Other boats are rarely seen and there is something both magical and mystical about seeing the red and green lights of the Navigation aids and those of the rare, but occasional, boat in the area. On a clear night, you can see lights from three and sometimes four different lighthouses, when you are properly positioned off shore.
“This is perfectly safe,” I said once again. “I checked the weather before we left and we will be constantly monitoring the NOAA broadcasts on the marine radio as we head out. The secret to this is to know the waters and follow the navigation aids, very closely.”
“Here are your life jackets,” I said and handed them both orange vests that had been stowed below. Roger, Steve’s younger brother, took his and began to put it on, while Steve actually took a small step backwards, looking at the vest and then at me. He looked as if I had just told him there was no Santa Claus. Totally astonished.
“I though you said this was safe?” he said and stared at the orange vest, avoiding contact like it was rabid or perhaps just to hot touch. Before I could say anything, his brother told him “The Coast Guard requires them, isn’t that right, Ian?” The look on his face told me he liked being a step ahead of his older brother.
“The answer to that is both yes and no, they require them to be nearby, properly fit and available in case of an emergency, but they do not have to be worn.” I told him in my Captain’s voice. Since he still looked ill at ease, I continued, “Think of it like you do a seat belt, a useful tool but only if you are properly using it. The vest will not do you any good if we leave it below and have to look for it in an emergency.”
His younger brother already had his on and tied. I told him it was ok to take it off and just keep it handy.
A boat further down the dock eased from the slip, slowly and quietly, the well-tuned engine sounding more like the rhythm of a steady heartbeat.
“It’s dark”, said Steve, “what if we hit a rock or something?” He sounded more like a man facing a root canal without anesthesia that someone out for a cruise.
“Steve, will you relax, a bit. I have all of the charts for this area and I’ve been through it many times both at high tide and at low tide. That is why they put out those red and green markers. They are like street signs, on the water. They don’t so much tell me where to go, but where not to go.” I was trying to make him feel more comfortable with the boat and with me.
“My mechanic just did a tune up, and checked everything out. We’ll be just fine.”
We had gotten a late start to begin with, stopped for gas and coffee on the way over and now Steve’s paranoia was making us even later. The way he stood and his tone of voice told me he was still not convinced but he sat down.
He sat, upright, clutching the vest in his lap, looking more like a man in the electric chair, in contrast to his younger brother who had taken his vest off and put it under his seat and was sitting back looking up at the night sky.
The moon would provide more than ample light for navigation. Perfect night to be on the water.
I removed the ignition key from its hiding place and turned over the big MercCrusier engine.
“Let me through please,” said a man in jeans, a t-shirt and sandals, sleep wrinkles still visible on his face.
“Sorry sir, no one can go down there,” said the firefighter blocking the entrance to the center dock’s ramp.
“Look, I’m the Marina manager, I need to know what’s going on here. Who is in charge?”
“ I am” said a voice in the darkness, and the manager turned to see a firefighter, the word Chief reflecting in the lights from both his jacket and helmet, illuminated by the red and blue strobe lights around the parking lot.
“We don’t know exactly what happened,” said the Chief, “there is that one boat destroyed and one on either side of it damaged by fire and debris. There was only one witness, in that Grady White at the end of the other dock. He said he heard an engine turn over, stall, then turn over again and he immediately saw a ball of flame from the rear of the boat, followed by an explosion. Right now, the theory is that the owner did not turn on his bilge blowers and there was a build up of gas fumes in the bilge, for some reason. The boat was, essentially, blown away.”
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