Storms of Passion (16 page)

Making her way up the steep mast to the crow’s nest, suspended above the moving ocean and the wind whistling its tune as they zigged and zagged, tacking to the wind, Vivian thought she was truly flying. She could not imagine anything making her feel this exhilaration with a distinct sense of danger hovering on the edge. Sometimes the ship tilted so that one false step, she knew she would be overboard.

Nate waited by the mast as she slowly climbed down. “Oh, I think, you’ve got the bug,” he said compatibly.

“I think maybe.” Vivian agreed, nodding ascent. “I keep saying it, but it’s true. I just didn’t know what I was signing up for when I contacted you. I wanted a sense of adventure, but this is something…”

“Something else, I know. We grew up with the sea. Salt water runs in our veins, but every once and a while we see someone who come to the sea unexpectedly and you know what?” Nate spoke louder to be heard above the rising wind as they made their way to the mess for another of cook’s fabulous dinners. “They come back. And I suspect you will as well.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

By the end of the second day, Vivian remembered Tuck’s weather forecast and was not concerned by the whistling wind or the overcast sky. “Tuck said we may get some unsettled weather,” she said, standing by Randy in the wheelhouse.

“Did he now?”

Vivian stared through the large window at the purple hued horizon, refusing to give anything away. If Tuck wanted his family to know about them, it was up to him to tell them. “Yes. I’m certainly glad I purchased this wooly sweater in town before we left.”

Randy snorted. “What’d they charge for that?”

Vivian inspected her heavy corded, beige sweater under her bright yellow slicker. She smiled. “Doesn’t matter, I’m warm and dry.”

“That’s the main thing.” He checked the ship’s instruments. “My Ma use to knit those types of sweaters for all us kids. Scandalous what they charge for them now.”

“Well, we tourists expect to pay a little more for some things.”

“As long as you feel it was worth it.”

“On a day like today…” She paused, gazing at the deck being sprayed by the salty ocean current. “For sure.”

Nate came up from below deck. “Bit of weather coming our way,” he said. “Ma says tropical storm in the gulf, but we should be able to stay out of its path. It’s headed farther out to sea so we’re gonna catch the tail as it heads away. Everyone okay with that?”

“Our mast monkey here already had the storm gist from Tuck.” Randy pointed a thumb in Vivian’s direction. “It’s okay though. She’s dressed to keep the chill from the blowing water off the bone.” He teased, gently shoving an elbow to her ribs.

“Tuck said not to be concerned, that it would breeze by us.” At Nate’s intense stare, Vivian continued with uncertainty. “He just said that this is what it is to be expected where everything is dependent on wind and weather. He reassured me the crew, being so excellent and all, would take care of us, and that you were all use to this kind of thing.”

Nate turned to his father, eyebrow raised. “Said all that did he?”

“Was he wrong to say anything?”

“Ah, no.” Randy said and shook his head, a smile on his thin lips. “Just surprises us. We didn’t know you had spent so much time with Tuck.”

Oh, shit. I said too much
. Vivian started to back out of the wheelhouse
.

Nate held up a hand. “Hey, now. You don’t have to leave.”

“Ah, it’s okay. I promised the ladies I’d play a game a crib with them this evening.”

****

Tuck monitored the weather on three large flat screens attached to the wall where he worked. “I don’t like the look of this, Ma.” Tuck pointed to one of the computer screens. “Look here.” He tapped the screen over a red swirl. “That tropical storm from the south has taken a sharp turn and is heading back in, and there, see the current.” He pointed to another screen where long blue lines filled the monitor. “That’s the cold air coming from the North, colliding with the warm Gulf Stream heading up to meet it.”

Tuck turned his head from the monitors to glance at his mother. She stared at the computer screen, shaking her head.

“You see here, that’s the tropical storm everyone focused on and rightly so. We had the Navigator change the course to avoid the brunt. They’d only feel the licks of the tail. All the reports said the storm would head further out to sea and peter out in the cold water.” Tuck illustrated by pointing to another spot on his digital map. “But if you check this warm Gulf Stream motion here, if the storm stays in its present course, after the hair-pin turn it took, you know what happens when warm meets the cold—they collide.”

His mother nodded. “I’ll radio the Navigator and let them know. Can you send them a picture of this?” His mother waved her hands at the mass of screens. “Tuck?”

“I’m doing it now,” he confirmed.

Tuck had a bad premonition swimming in the pit of his belly. He couldn’t shake it. The rain started about noon on the second day of the voyage. His father had sent through reports that although the wind was up, they hadn’t received the rain by that point. Tuck continued to watch the weather patterns and compared them to the log the Navigator had filed. No matter how he made adjustments and communicated back and forth to the Navigator, he just didn’t see how they were going to avoid some very rough sea.
Goddamnit, I told Vivian all would be fine.

Heading back toward land at this point was not an option as that is where the majority of the activity of the storm lay, close along the coastal line. The crew was better off out to sea at this point by all estimations. However, with the gulf current changing he didn’t see where the ship could chart to avoid one or the other of the storms, and be lucky enough to avoid the inevitable collision of both. Growing up by the ocean, if there was one thing Tuck had learned about Mother Nature was that she loved a good fight and the collision of these two weather systems was going to be a doozy.

Focusing on his monitor, hoping to force the weather to do what he wanted, he remembered his words to Vivian.
I’m a fair weather sailor.
He hadn’t lied. He hated the wind and driving rain, but what he didn’t tell her was the reason he was a fair weather sailor—he would be called out on the chopper to jump into the sea to rescue the all-weather sailors at risk in storms just like this. He didn’t want to scare her.

Tuck would trade places with Vivian in a heartbeat to ensure her safety through this oncoming beast. Closing his eyes, he imagined the sway of the ship under his feet, envisioning Vivian walking, struggling for proper footing on the rain soaked oak deck. His father and brother were exceptional sailors, and Tuck had no fear of their sailing ability, but when Mother Nature decided to show her wrath, no man or beast would stand in her way.

Tuck scrutinized the charts. “Heaven help them.”

****

The crew, both seasoned and beginner, had been working in shifts, adjusting ropes, checking the sails, and keeping up with the multitude of duties required on a ship as large as the Navigator. Captain MacLean, Randy’s name at sea, put a halt to commotion and gathered the tourists inside the wheelhouse.

Running his weathered hand down his face to wipe the moisture from his beard, Randy began. “I’m no good at mincing words, so I won’t.” His graveled voice was more hoarse than usual. He paused, blinking the rain out of his eyes “The latest weather charts show that we’ve had a collision of sorts out here. A high and low collided, a warm and cold. The result will be bad. I’ve already informed my crew and they are preparing. There’s nothing else to be done but ride it out.”

Vivian watched the women’s faces fill with fear as they gravitated to their men. She had no one, so she simply stared ahead straight into the depths of Randy’s deep brown eyes. Her eyes probably resembled a doe’s eyes, caught in a bright light. Randy had no control over the weather. He could only control the ship holding them within the mighty force.

Clara linked her hand in Arthur’s. “Y…you’ve been through a storm like this before though, right?”

Nate stepped beside his father. “Of course, but you haven’t and as we told you from the beginning, it is always best to be prepared.”

The captain nodded. “We watch the weather like a beacon. That’s our job. This is a complete fluke phenomenon out here now. Something Poseidon likes to spring on us once in a while just to let us know he’s still in charge.” His tone sounded resolute. “We would never have begun the voyage had we known of the two storms. The one on radar was expected to head out to sea, but she took a turn for the worse. She’s now heading back toward the coast just as the cold water from the North is coming down, colliding with the warm Gulf Stream.”

“What does this mean?” Linda’s voice was higher pitched than normal. “Can’t we just go back? Surely we can’t be that far out to sea that we can’t go back.”

Nate shook his head. “No, we’re not that far out, but returning is not an option.” He pulled up the weather radar and the men stepped closer. “The worst of it appears to be the tropical storm. She’s hugging the shoreline, so we don’t want to go through that. The hurricane is causing the cold current to move inland, effectively trapping us from going ashore.”

“It’s best for us to continue to head further out to sea,” said Captain MacLean.

“What about running parallel to the storm?” said the ever-practical Howard, adjusting his glasses. He resembled what Vivian imagined an accountant to look like. She could almost envision numbers crunching in his head.

Nate nodded. “That’s good thinking, there, Howard.” He turned to the charts on the table. “And that is effectively what we have been doing the last twelve hours, but it looks as though the mouth of the pincers have closed the gap we were running for. Now we have to run through the collision of the two storms in order to get out of it. We definitely don’t want to keep running with it.”

Everyone’s face mirrored Vivian’s stare of horror. Captain MacLean held up his hand. “We’ve been through this before and we’ll get through it again. We’ll be okay. We just want to make sure you understand what’s going on. We’ll face this bastard storm and we’ll get through it. You’ll be surprised when we come out the other side. The sky will be so clear, you’ll swear you can reach up and touch the face of God. And what a story you’ll have to tell!” His smile was forced even as he winked.

“Make sure you have your life jackets on.” Nate pointed to the supply bunks by the door as they parted.

Collectively, the small group donned their life jackets under their rain slickers and set about their assigned chores. There was no shift work now, all hands on deck. Better to be busy anyway. Sitting around thinking about the storm would only make it worse.

“Okay, monkey woman.” Captain MacLean laughed, smiling at Vivian. “You go with Gabriel and climb up and take down those sails. We’ve no need of a foul wind pulling us under. We’ll go with the engine in this mess.”

Vivian had never been one to be scared of heights, which is why she loved her assigned job of unfurling the sails, but now what had appeared to be a tall ship in port was suddenly small in this great big ocean. She grew more petrified with each step as she fit her feet to the small rungs on the mast. The ship listed this way and that as she climbed higher. At times she seemed to be hanging in mid air over the berth of the sea as it waited to swallow her. The rubber soles of her shoes slipped and her knees squeezed tight around the mast, her hands, white knuckled, held firm to the handholds. She no longer reveled in the free sensation of flying of just yesterday. With the imposing danger of the storm and the roll of the ship, at times she was almost paralyzed to move her muscles and get the job done. Her shoulders ached and she thought her hands would never keep their grip, but she marveled the strength from her body.
I have to keep going, people are depending on me
. So she kept going.

The hours went on and on. The sea continued to rage and get angrier still. Vivian had seen movies that depicted high waves, but they were full of shit compared to the real thing. She zigzagged across the slick decking, trying to keep her feet from failing her.

She never understood the feeling of cold terror running through her veins until she saw a twenty-five-foot wave crashing down with the next one waiting. The sheer weight of the water bearing down on the ship caused vibrations from the timbers to course up her legs.

Captain MacLean insisted that anyone on deck be tied. “It’s an ancient course of action, but to this day the most effective means of keeping people on board a vessel in a storm like this.” He shouted over the ranging wind as he lashed the ropes.

Howling wails from a medieval novel is the best description of the wind. Within a few hours of the storm gaining force, two of the three ladies, Janie and Linda, were so scared they were beyond providing any help. Clara, a kindly heart by nature, accompanied the women below to take care of them, ensuring the rest of the crew could concentrate. Arthur, amazingly enough, was as solid as a rock, doing what he was told, when he told, the fear in his eyes never halting his motions. Howard seemed to come into his own, removing his glasses every once and while to wipe them on his sleeve, he was in the thick of the action, moving like he’d been born to it. Born to it or not, by early the next morning, after a couple hours of rest, the crew, seasoned or no, were exhausted.

When will we come out the other side?
It’s been so long
. Vivian’s shoulders were knotted. She reached a hand under her woolen sweater to the cotton shirt to massage the ache. They were fighting waves that seem to be increasing in size for more than a day. Vivian didn’t want to ask, for she didn’t want to appear weak, but this went a little bit beyond the adventure she signed up for.
This must be a dream gone bad.
She pinched her shoulder, a weak attempt to wake up.

Howard approached as she sipped her coffee, warming her hands around the large mug. He forced a smiled, seeming to read her her fear, which she was sure passed very clearly across her face. Everyone struggled to keep food and liquid down as the ship listed from one side to the next. Standing, Vivian hoped the scalding liquid would not run over her fingers as she moved her weight from her left foot to her right and back again in motion with the ship. “I can’t sit down. I’m too antsy.”