It was a warm, breezy day, perfect for sailing on the horizon. Never before have I longed to experience the smell of the salty ocean and cool water drizzle down my bare skin. Gathering up the rest of the crew, we set off to yet another voyage. We packed our necessities-- floating tube, anchor, rope-- and a few snacks to settle our stomach while at sea.
It was perfect. The tide was normal, ship was on course, and the winds were blowing in the direction where our boat pleasantly rode across the waves. We shared a couple of lame jokes, but laughed in spite of it. A sudden tide shook the ropes connected to the sail, but we were in for no worry. Everything was perfect...or at least I thought it would remain that way.
Sudden waves came crashing from the sides, creating splashes of ice cold water that covered the surface of the deck. A couple of men slipped and fell, dangerously rocking the boat to an unstable motion. I could feel my feet losing balance as I tried to stabilize myself by holding onto the slippery rail. My feet gave one last push, but in the wrong direction. As I opened my eyes, I was no longer standing on deck, but desperately gasping for air. The saltiness of the water burned my throat, forbidding me to yell out for help. It wasn't until one of the crew members actually took notice of me and started to scream, "MAN OVERBOARD!"
I covered my face with both hands to avoid the cold shock. The crew rapidly prepared for rescue, taking full control of the boat and steering it 180 degrees. The captain tied a rope to the floating tube and flung it towards me. I hastily secured it around my body, fastening my arms to fit tightly around the rubber tube. The captain and crew pulled me up slowly, as I used the remaining strength to pull me up. I gasped for air, never so hungry for it before.
No comments:
Post a Comment