Nobody's Dying Tonight

May 2021

Foreword

I am not what happened to me.

I am what I choose to become.

Carl Jung

If you focus on the hurt, you will continue to suffer.

If you focus on the lesson, you will continue to grow.

Unknown

To those that have lost and cannot seem to find the will to try again...

To those that have tried and failed...

To those who have been discouraged and disparaged by others simply because they dream big...

To those who yearn to voyage but fear they haven't the tools...

To those recovering from a blow that has ruined them...

Change your focus.

Choose your future.

Live your dream.

This is a true tale, literary license has been taken with regard to names to provide the participants some anonymity but, by and large all the events written herein are factual.

When I started this story, I was caught up in the black psychology of loss. My boat was gone as were my plans and preparations. I was in mourning and sitting around the house mostly keeping away from family and friends and not really doing much of anything positive.

After a time, I was able to shake myself off and move out on an alternative plan. I accepted an opportunity to help a new Hylas owner prep his boat for sailing in Australia and the South Pacific. If I couldn't get there on my own boat, well the next best thing is to get there on someone else's boat. The goal was to get there, to cruise the deep blue South Pacific and see places and meet people largely isolated from the world of the 21st century.

But the heavens held yet another surprise. As the artist Neil Young once said, "The Devil fools with the best laid plans."

And once the Chinese let loose the latest plague brewed up in their fortress nation that plan too went down to failure as countries closed borders and people were directed to isolate themselves in their homes.

I left Australia as the Pandemic was starting to force it's way into the world's collective consciousness and shortly before all visitors were expelled and so, for the second time in barely three months I was headed home, empty handed and not entirely of my own accord.

As things spiraled and the world became increasingly more restrictive, I found that I was back to focusing on the hurt.

It took a while but, eventually it dawned on me that I was alive, healthy, and resourceful. All that was needed was to change my focus and concentrate on the lesson and in so doing commit myself anew and start, for the third time, down the road to my goal to cruise where wind and will take me.

If the gods choose to intercede again and humble the mortal once more, then I will just have to recover again, learn, grow, and prepare for a fourth attempt.

Some dreams can be delayed but cannot be denied.

Don't forget your dreams, don't deny your dreams because of setbacks. Accept the delay and turn it to your advantage by doing more preparations or other things that will help when you finally turn loose.

I write this to help clarify the lesson I learned and thus permit me share my experience with others in hope it might help them overcome the challenge that life has given them, restore joy to their lives, and move on with the dreams they have nurtured with care.

You don't have to be a shipwreck victim nor, does your dream need to be voyaging. Recovery and re-engagement can be applied universally to any endeavor.

I am planning my next voyage and I find that as I plan and prepare, there is no longer time to suffer or mourn. I am just too busy putting lessons learned into practice to succumb to self-pity.

All the self-pity in the world will not get me to my Pacific islands. Hard work will.

JAS

Chapter 1

Was this the end?

Was he participating in the last moments of his life? Will this be how he goes? What will this do to the kids, especially this close to Christmas?

A random thought blazed thru his mind and bubbled to the top of all the competing messages buzzing thru his neurons, Am I going to be the dad that ruins Christmas forever for my kids? Memories of happier times to be replaced with the awful news -- your father has passed.

The scene was chaos. He had been awoken roughly from sleep by the gut-wrenching sound of the boat grinding across a surface much harder than seawater, and the sudden stop. He woke instantly and sprang from the bunk and headed up to the helm station.

When he came out of the salon and into the cockpit the women were yelling and the noises from the wind, the waves, and the hull tearing itself apart competed for his attention. For a moment he felt despair, hopelessness, and guilt. "Have I just killed us all?" He thought.

But he only allowed himself that one instant of self-doubt. He had been here before, maybe not exactly in this position but, here, in the presence of death. He had served for a time in the US Navy. He was an aviator, in and of itself a very hazardous occupation but, one for which he had been well trained and that training, more than two decades passed kicked into high gear as if he were back in the pool at Pensacola NAS.

He had seen the shadow of the reaper out of the corner of his eye, his scythe-like teeth forming in a mirthless smile as he came for him. He had been in the company of the angel of death on more than a couple of occasions in the past and each time, the angel had left, empty handed, disappointed, defeated. Was the black courier back now to collect on this overdue debt and were the passengers merely the accrued interest demanded for the long outstanding bill? And as quickly as it came, he dismissed it. He shook his head side to side -- he was saying no and at the same time shaking his senses back -- discarding the doubt and fear and finding the instead the room needed for courage and productive thoughts; allowing his training and will to take control.

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Chapter 2

His dream was carefully planned, well-funded, and had been in the beginning stages of execution and it all came to a gut-wrenching end early in the evening of 5 December piled up on to a reef off North Caicos.

He had an attraction to the sea as long as he could remember. He paid extra for rent just for the privilege of being able to look out at the ocean every morning.

He left the east coast and moved to California where he earned his FAA license so he could work on airplanes. His plan was to learn to fix them, then learn to fly them.

He found ways to indulge his love of the ocean with his love of flying and get paid. His first job out of school was working as a helicopter mechanic on a commercial fishing boat. It was great work and it kept him at sea for several months at a time as the boat filled its hold with Pacific tuna that the on-board helicopter had spotted for the boat on its daily flights. He did that for about a year, taking three long trips and putting back a tidy sum for his long-range plan.

He continued working on aircraft in a more traditional job after his return and converted most of his paycheck to noise and exhaust fumes as he learned the craft of flying the planes he fixed. His instructor saw he had genuine talent and told him that if he really wanted to learn about flying he should join the military.

He was the youngest of three brothers. As a boy he remembered his oldest brother taking command of the TV on Saturday mornings and tuning in the World War II documentary, Victory at Sea. The image of airplanes launching and landing on aircraft carriers was imprinted on his memory and the two were conjoined in his mind for the rest of his life. So, his choice of military branch had been made for him two decades before and he found his way to a Navy recruiter and several years later, he was flying airplanes on and off boats. A perfect fit for him.

He married and found himself sidetracked from his path by the need to keep peace in the marriage. He left the Navy and took on a conventional job as an aircraft engineer where 20 years slipped by. Despite the sacrifice of his sea going ways so too did the marriage.

That was when he decided to get back to first principles and plan for a life of cruising. His preparations began in earnest more than five years before he cast off and while he was still working. He took formal instruction in sailing and advanced through the curriculum building his skills and experience.

He retired early so he could begin his travels while he was still relatively young and healthy. He had heard too many horror stories about men who planned for life after work only to succumb to a heart attack or cancer, or some other debilitating fate before they could live even a day of their dream life. He wasn't about to let that happen to him.

He found his boat, prepped it and took off on a shakedown cruise in early February with his son. Together they cruised through the Bahamas adding to his boat saavy and listing items for repair and refit.

This trip started in Florida positively without any hint of the fate that awaited him. His long list of upgrades completed; the boat was in the best condition it had seen in a number of years.

During his planning he had corresponded with a woman from the boater web site. He wanted to find a partner that knew how to sail, wanted to take an extended voyage, and was open to a relationship. That had been the hardest part. He had been divorced for some time and had been so focused on voyage planning that he had not spent much time developing relationships with women and women willing or able to cut loose and cruise for an extended time were few and far between. He looked on-line with several web sites that seemed to cater to his needs -- finding crew that could become a full partner and companion in the trip.

Her name was Jen and she had seemed to be a good fit. Her resume was substantial. She had experience on long voyages and on several different types of vessels. She was fit, and she loved travel and adventure. They had spoken for several weeks and finally agreed to give it a try. He had spoken with several women and met two others. The first had a lot of similarities and likely would have been a good fit except that, well, the attractiveness factor wasn't there. The second, had less experience but, was attractive and willing and they both found they were immediately at ease with each other. When they talked more about dates it came out that she wasn't really ready after all and so from three, it came down to one.

As he was getting ready, he was working out regularly at a gym near his home and he had found common ground with a woman, named Lisa that he met there. She and her husband, Bill had a similar dream of voyaging after Bill's retirement.

As a result of their talks, he invited them to join on the first leg of the voyage. It would be helpful to him and give them a sense of the cruising life and a short intro so they would know if their dream was really a good fit.

The crew would start as two couples. They would leave south Florida in early November and drop off the local couple in the Bahamas close to Thanksgiving so Bill could get back to Florida in time to support his store's Thanksgiving rush.

That part of the trip went off as planned. Everyone had a fun time and they parted in the Bahamas as planned.

Without having Lisa and Bill aboard he and Jen were left alone, and he found that Jen let go of some of her inhibitions. Their relationship became closer and soon they were touching each other like two kids discovering the beauty of a partner that neither had enjoyed for a long while.

They became lovers and began to get along quite well -- in retrospect it was probably because they both were caught up in the endorphins released from orgasm.

But it did not last and within a week or so, Bill's prescient warnings were manifest in her actions.

He thought back to what his friend Bill had said as he was preparing to leave. "I may be going out on a limb here, but I think I need to tell you some things I noticed. Keep an eye on Jen." He said matter of factly. "I wasn't sure, but Lisa first pointed it out to me." Lisa, his wife was a fitness devotee and Jen had latched onto her like a sister.

"Lisa reminded me of her cousin. She had an eating disorder; I mean the whole binge and purge thing and she had a lot of the same behaviors that Jen has" He continued. "She would cycle between starving herself and sneak eating then vomiting. It was always worse when she was in her starvation cycle."

"I saw some of that." He agreed with Bill. "But I guess I didn't put it all together. I just thought it was just a quirk of her personality. Now that you described it, I think I can see it."

"Lisa's cousin would do a lot of odd things and make a lot of bad decisions when she was starving herself." Bill added. "Keep a close eye on her. I mean, unless you are really committed to her you may want to consider..." Bill left it hanging.

Bill went on. "I'm just sayin, ya know? You don't seem to be the type of guy that accepts bad behavior. Why start now?"

He filed that away. He would come back to that and think on it further.

That was the evening before Bill and Lisa left the Bahamas to return to Florida. It was less than two weeks later, and she had indeed reverted back to her old ways becoming increasingly bossy and demanding. She had a disturbing habit of talking out loud to herself and storming off if she did not get her way.

It wasn't just him and he wasn't being overly critical, even Laurine, the younger member of the crew saw it and mentioned it in private.

********************

Chapter 3

He dismissed those thoughts for now. "No time for that now. Beat yourself up later." He thought.

As his focus returned, he looked around him, shutting out the shouts of the women. "It wasn't my fault!" Jen, shouted. "It must be an uncharted rock or reef." He looked out behind the boat. Waves were crashing into the transom and up the steps built into each hull. He looked left and right and saw waves breaking over a reef as far as he could see in both directions. The night was dark and near moonless but, the crest of the waves appeared white in the darkness and instantly he realized what had happened.

This wasn't an "uncharted" reef, this was the very charted barrier reef for North Caicos Island but hell, we should have been more than three miles north. She put us on the reef came the sudden realization. He grabbed the wheel and twisted it hard to the left then to the right, the boat did not respond to the helm. He grabbed the key and tried to start the starboard engine. It wouldn't catch. He tried the port engine and it fired. He pushed the throttle lever forward and heard the sound of the engine climb and Tachometer report 2500 RPM and still, the boat was completely motionless.

And that is when it struck him, we've torn off the rudders and sail drives. "I've lost the boat. I've lost the boat. Ok, forget it" He thought.

"This has become a lifesaving effort." And now his mind began to whir. "I am not dying, not tonight anyway." He thought and he began the fight, not for the life of his boat that was hopeless but, for the lives of his passengers. That was his primary duty now and he was bound to perform that duty to the end. And he was committed.

"We're not dying tonight." He said to both women, ignoring Jen's continuing attempts to burden someone or something with the responsibility for the wreck. They looked at him, their eyes wide and fear filled. "We've got a lot to do." He said. "If you listen to me and do what I tell you, we will get out of here but, you have to keep your head."

That seemed if not to calm them then at least to give them a thread of hope to grab for. He walked into the Salon and grabbed the EPIRB. He was familiar with it and flipped the switch to operate. With that action, the EPIRB burst to life and began blinking its strobe but, much more important than the strobe was the signal it was sending from the boat, up to a satellite, then down to an emergency center in Miami. He knew this was the case but, the now he thought the worst thing about the EPIRB was that it was one way and silent. So even though he knew his emergency signal was being transmitted, there was nothing to confirm it to him or to give him any hope that anyone had picked it up.

Next, he went to the SSB and flipped open the distress cover and depressed the button. Like the EPIRB, the SSB now would begin an unrelenting call for assistance this time using high frequency air waves instead of satellites. He turned to the VHF. "Laurine." He called "Come here, I want you to broadcast our Mayday on the VHF."

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Chapter 4

Laurine was a young woman, French. They had met in the Bahamas after he and Jen had said goodbye to their friends from Florida and were getting ready to continue the voyage. Laurine had come to the Bahamas to help with ecological initiatives that the government had started. Her mentor however, had family issues in the states and left before she even arrived. When she did get there, his instructions directed her to the hull of a boat, long passed any days of sailing and now acting as a moored apartment -- more correctly a floating tenement.

During the time they had spent in the Bahamas, Laurine had come to know them and asked if she could come along on the next legs of the trip, not having anything much else to do and living in a boat that did not even have running water.

As it turned out, she was a joy to have on board, constantly upbeat and always helpful. He was reluctant at first to take her. She was young and did not have any practical experience on the boat. That and the fact that he would now be awash in double dose of estrogen and have to deal with the multitude of issues generated by two women gave him pause but, it faded quickly as she demonstrated her usefulness.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Jen. He had so much hope when they first met that she might be the one that had been eluding him, she just might be Olive to his Popeye. His hopes crashed face first into reality though as the trip progressed.

She seemed "Off" in a number of ways but, most of them seemed to be centered around the need to be the "leader" to issue orders and organize every aspect of the crew's day. Not even mealtime was sparred as she whirled around bossing everyone into cooking what she wanted and acting as if she was the only one that could plan meals and activities.

It wasn't as if she was much more qualified than the others on the boat or even that she was just better at organization, she wasn't, and more often than not her "orders" ran counter to what the other crew members had wanted. Everyone on board was doing their best to keep the mood of the boat happy and upbeat hoping that things would work themselves out as the trip continued and everyone got used to the routine.

He disregarded it for as long as he could, hoping it was just growing pains associated with getting to know someone new. He had a tendency to be critical and wondered if this entered into his thinking. So at first he assigned the fault to himself and worked at being agreeable and quieting his inner critic.

But after Bill's warning and as the time grew nearer for his friends to return home, he realized that he had to make a change and began quietly to look for new crew thinking that he may have to stay on in the Bahamas for a while to find another crew member.

He had contacted an old friend, Mary, and to his happy surprise, not only was she available to join she was excited to come and be with him again. They spoke a bit and decided that she could meet him shortly before Christmas. It was nearing the end of November and while he liked it in the Bahamas, he did not want to spend the next month there. He decided that he would take his makeshift crew and sail to Puerto Rico -- stopping at various islands in the Bahamas on the way and once there, he would have Jen depart the boat.