“You’re going to want to see this,” he adds.
“I’ll keep trying,” Tai says quietly. “Be careful.”
Lacey and I quickly head up to the top.
Richard is standing on the side of the ship, holding onto the railing for balance, facing forward.
Neither Lacey or I stray far from the hatch, instead we peer through the clear dodger at the horizon.
There is a horizon now. Somewhere in the east the sun is rising, breaking through low dark clouds in some places, making the faintest grainy light shine across the ocean. On one hand, that’s great, because it means the storm is breaking up over there.
On the other hand, we can see exactly what we’re getting into.
There’s a mass of island rising right before us.
“Oh my god,” I whisper.
We’re still far out but we’re moving fast and, more than that, the light is shining on the tops of the waves breaking just a few hundred meters in front of the ship.
“It’s a reef!” Richard yells. “Collision eminent!”
Again, does this guy think he’s in charge of the Starship Enterprise?
That snarky little thought feels good before the feeling of immense dread sets in.
We’re fucked.
“What?” Tai says, bounding up the stairs and onto the cockpit. He stands beside Richard and stares at the sunrise.
Atarangi.
The morning sky, showing us our fate.
“We’re going to hit,” Tai says. He looks to us. “Go downstairs, get everything and throw it up here!”
I don’t hesitate. I scramble down the stairs with Lacey in tow.
I’m panicking, as I think anyone would in this situation, when the boat you’re on is going to collide with a reef and you all might potentially die. I’m not even thinking, I’m just doing, grabbing everything we all had gathered and passing it to Lacey who is throwing it all up top.
“Is this it?” Richard asks when we come back up.
We nod. We all have our own bag, plus a bag of food and a bag of supplies. We’re wearing rainproof gear and lifejackets. We’re ready for something.
Or, we should be. I glance at the bow of the boat again just as we slam down another wave and the landmass looms larger, a murky sun behind its silhouette. The island seems fairly big, though with the way the boat is moving, it’s hard to say. In the distance I can see another glimpse of a much smaller island.
But it’s the reef that terrifies me. The way the waves are breaking, indicating how shallow it is. In fact, the body of water between the reef and the island, the lagoon, isn’t as rough as it is out here in the deep.
The deep.
I feel so scared I might pee my pants.
“We’re going to collide soon, another twenty metres,” Tai yells at us, going back toward the life raft, which is housed in a large cylinder. “If anyone is clipped in, you need to unclip now. We can’t afford to be dragged if that’s the case. We need to get in the raft, now.”
“Hold on!” Richard yells, and with a groan flips open the bench seats, revealing the storage underneath. He grabs a fishing pole.
Tai nods at him. Good idea.
Meanwhile I’m thinking our survival might depend on Richard’s fishing skills.
Then Tai lifts up the life raft cylinder, which must be at least four feet long and wide as a tree trunk, and raises it above his head with a huge feat of strength, tossing it in the water where it’s immediately swallowed by waves.
It pops back up, and Tai begins to tug on the line attached to it as it drags behind the boat
“Come on, come on!” he yells, yanking at the line, trying to get the cylinder to open and inflate.
“Tai!” Richard yells, and then his words disappear as the most horrific screeching noise, the sound of wood splintering and fiberglass being punctured fills the air and I am thrown to the floor.
I land on the bench just opposite of the one Richard opened, my hands trying to break my fall as the waves start washing over the boat as it starts to pivot to one side. The sound continues to fill my head until I think that’s all that’s left of the world.
Then I hear screaming.
Lacey!
I manage to get up and look to see her slipping off the side of the boat, one hand desperately reaching for the railing before she goes over.
Without even thinking I lunge forward, landing on my elbows and sliding forward on the teak deck, splinter city, as the waves rock me in her direction. I reach for her hand, grasping it.
Then she throws her other arm up and I grab the other hand.
Her legs are in the water when the waves hit and my grip is slipping.
So am I.
I’m tumbling, almost going over the railing and losing my contact with her but I manage to keep my ass low and place the soles of my feet at the railing bars for leverage.
I pull her up as much as I can, straining, using every inch of my underused abs and muscles for balance and strength.
Then, just when I think my legs are going to give out, Richard is behind me, pulling me back by the waist. It gives me enough momentum to pull Lacey back on board and into the cockpit.
“Are you okay?” I ask her, even though it’s obvious none of us are okay right now and that all looked rather painful.
She nods, giving me a meek, grateful look. Then she looks over at Richard in surprise.
One of the lenses in his glasses has cracked, blood pouring out of his mouth.
He smiles at her in relief.. He’s missing a front tooth.
“Get in, get in!” Tai yells from the back of the boat, distracting us from Richard’s face, and motioning down into the water. “Now!”
Oh my god.
No.
I can’t do this. I can’t leave this boat and get in a raft. I can’t!
But then I get a good look at the boat.
We’re no longer moving forward which is good, but we’re twisted enough to the side that the waves keep crashing over.
Then there’s the matter of the inside.
I stumble over to the stairs leading into the cabin. There’s at least two feet of water down below, sloshing to the level of the couches, cushions starting to float. The water seems to be coming from the fore cabin, the door twisted off.
Oh god, it’s sinking.
We’re sinking.
“Come on!” Tai yells. “Abandon the fucking ship!”
Lacey pulls at my arm and it’s enough for me to snap out of it.
I follow her and Richard down the cockpit to the back where Tai has unfastened the railing. The life raft sits on the water, fully inflated, a little canopy over it. It looks like a cheap floating house that kids would play in, albeit with a flashing beacon on the top.
How the hell is that going to protect us?
“Get in!” Tai says, reaching forward and grabbing me by the arm, pulling me to the landing at the back of the boat, where once upon a time I would sit on calm days and watch the water pass beneath my dangling feet.
Seems like a lifetime ago.
The raft is tied up against the ship, but with the waves threatening to tip us all over, I’m scared to death to try and jump in it.
“Jump!” Tai yells. “You’ll be okay, you have your life jacket.”
I almost want him to push me but I don’t think he would.
Instead, I take in a deep breath, conjure up all my courage, and leap.