King Neptune Slaps Steve Upside the Head

"The engulfing waters surrounded me,
the deep surrounded me;
seaweed was
wrapped around my head."
Jonah 2:5

A phone call a couple of weeks ago reminded me of one of my youthful misadventures, and inspired me to write an account of it, which I posted as "King Neptune Slaps Me Upside the Head." I have been waiting to hear the rest of the story related to me in that phone call, but it has come forth only in bits and pieces. Not that I blame Steve for not spilling his guts. He’s proud of the fact that he’s learned a lot more about handling small boats since he moved to Florida from landlocked Kentucky fifteen years ago.

A couple of years ago he sailed with his father down the Pacific coast of Mexico, and periodically sent back notes detailing his adventures–encounters with pods of whales, venturing ashore at remote fishing villages, and fighting the unusually powerful storms that made sailing along the Baja coast so formidable that year.

The climax of that voyage was a heroic crossing of the Sea of Cortez during a gale, when Steve, like a young Ulysses, single-handed the Manatee Sol for twenty-four hours, as his dad lay disabled in the bilges, a victim of a combination of mal de mere and South-of-the-Border cuisine. Steve was rightfully proud of his seamanship. His friends told him that his landlubber status was now officially a thing of the past.

"Pride goes before destruction,
a haughty spirit before a fall."
Proverbs 16:18

This summer he became part-owner of an entirely adequate 23' sloop. Steve has always been a diplomatic sort of fellow, so it was not out of character that he invited a man (let’s call him Jonah), whom he had recently laid off, for a libation, just to show that there were no hard feelings. One thing led to another, and although the hour was late, they decided to go for a sail. Somewhere beyond Hawk Channel the boat slowed up. A line from a lobster trap had wrapped around the rudder. Steve wrapped another line around his waist as a safety device, and dove into the murky water to unwrap the trap line. Just as he got the trap line off, he felt the "safety line" also slip away, and the boat shot forward. He shouted to Jonah to head the boat into the wind to stop it.

Who knows how humans will react in times of emergency? Some stay cool and act seemingly without thinking. Others freeze up like a deer in the headlights. A soldier is trained through innumerable drills to act without hesitation at a time when a quick decision can mean the difference between life and death. But the reaction of a civilian, especially one who is essentially a stranger, is completely a matter of chance. Jonah froze up, and the boat sailed off into the night.

O God, Thy sea is so great,
And my ship is so small!
--Anon.

It’s safe to say that there was a lot of shouting and blistering the air with curses. As the vague outline of the sails moved away in the darkness, Steve thought he could hear the words, "I don’t know how! I don’t know how!" Are we to believe there are those who lack the ingenuity to move a tiller to port or starboard, if only to see what effect it might have on the slow-moving craft? Or should we look into the darker recesses of the human heart, and see retributive justice as the father of this most grievous omission? In any event Steve now faced a dilemma. Continue to swim in the direction of the disappearing craft, thereby depleting his already waning energy, or to make for shore in the blackness of the waves?

He decided to swim for shore, and headed toward the intermittent flash of a distant beacon at Key West International Airport. What thoughts went through his head as he slowly stroked his way toward land? The occasional splash of a large fish, or a breaking wave made him even more aware of his predicament. Maybe it’s only a school of tarpon. But aren’t they often followed by hammerheads, especially at night? Somewhere during the three-hour swim, exhausted, he took off his shorts in an attempt to ease his drag through the water, and let them fall to the bottom.

At daybreak he dragged himself naked onto the sand of Smathers Beach, like the archetypal castaway of film and legend. Down the beach there was a startled swimmer, and Steve asked him for a towel, then hobbled to a seawall to rest and ponder what to do next. A passing police cruiser screeched to a halt. Someone had seen him come out of the water, and called the cops.

Steve tried to explain what had happened to the officer, but he'd have none of it. He’d seen plenty of cases like this. Too much to drink, and they end up on the beach buck naked in the morning. Fell off a boat. Sure! Indecent exposure, plain and simple. Another amusing Key West story in tomorrow’s Crime Report. He prepared to take Steve out to the jail for booking, and called into dispatch.

It's what we learn after we know it all that counts!

--Leo Cooper

"Yeah, there was a report of a man overboard." In fact, the Coast Guard still had a boat and a helicopter out searching. Exactly what happened after that is unclear. There was an exchange of cell phone calls. Somehow Steve got home, and somehow he got back to the boat. Jonah was still on board. It seems after a while, he had found Steve’s cell phone on board. He called his girlfriend(!) and told her what had happened, and she had the good sense to call 911 and report the incident.

It’s been hard to get Steve to talk about it, but maybe when he sees this, he’ll volunteer to fill in the blanks! Or maybe not....

King Neptune Slaps Me Upside the Head

A phone call today reminded me of a story from long ago but never forgotten. It was a still day one summer in the Florida Keys. White cumulus clouds tinged with the green of Florida Bay reflected on their undersides, calm seas, and clear waters beckoned. I had a 19 ft. Lightning class sailboat, a wooden classic, docked at a friend's house, right on the bay. There was no one around, so I took her out by myself. The winds were light or nonexistent.

I spent most of the afternoon snorkeling behind the boat, secured by a twenty foot line tied to one of my ankles. The water was warm and comforting and absolutely clear. There was almost no wind, so I wasn't alarmed when the line worked off my ankle. The boat had hardly moved all day, even though the sails were still up. I saw an interesting shell, and swam down for a closer look. Somewhat alarmed, I saw the end of the line shooting away along the bottom. Must be a slight gust of wind, I thought.

I surfaced to see the boat sailing out into the bay. Not a problem, I thought. I can easily catch it. I started swimming after it, only to find that as soon as I got within reach of the line trailing in the water behind her, it would zip ahead just out of my reach!

Still, I didn't panic, and kept swimming after it. With someone on board, the boat had the tendency to come up into the wind and stop. (They call this "weather helm.") Not to worry. I put on a great attempt to swim as fast as possible and to grab the line. Once again the boat shot forward in a gust of wind, just out of reach. It soon appeared that without any weight on board, the boat was perfectly "trimmed," and sailed in a straight line as if she had an auto-pilot!

I kept swimming behind her, just out of reach. A couple more times I mounted a valiant effort, swimming as fast as I could, just missing her each time. By now I was starting to get tired, and realized that I had a problem. It was upsetting to realize I had to let the boat go, and start to figure out a way to save myself. I was at least two miles offshore, and the tide seemed to be going out, so I would be swimming against a current if I tried to make it to shore.

I thought about shouting for help, but realized I was so far out no one could possibly hear me. The nearest place I could get out of the water, except for the distant shore, was the marker at Sawyer bank, by my best guess a mile and a half away. I figured that was my best chance and so began the slow swim out to the marker, as my boat disappeared into the rays of the setting sun!

It took almost two hours to get out near the marker. As I approached it, I saw a boat pull up nearby, and two guys started fishing. I swam over to them. "Little far offshore to be snorkeling out here, ain't it?" one of them said.

"See that dot out on the horizon?" I said. "That's my boat. How 'bout takin' me out there."
They clearly thought I was crazy, but let me climb aboard, and soon we were near the sailboat, still zipping along as if sailed by King Neptune himself.

"Thanks!" I shouted, and dived overboard, this time reaching the sailboat. I climbed on, brought her about, pointed it back to the dock, and collapsed in exhaustion. When I got back to the dock about 9 o'clock I told my friends what had happened. They had a good laugh and poured me a shot of brandy, just about the best shot of brandy I ever had.

Moral of the story: Many, but basically don't ever do anything so stupid!

A Day of Sailing

Colorful Jib

Yesterday afternoon I had an unexpected treat: a friend has acquired a sailboat (and just as importantly, a good place to keep it) and we took it out to the reef.

There were four of us, and three of us had lived in the Keys for periods of time in the past. We realized that, as you settle down and get busy with just living, you don't often get the chance to experience the finer things of life here. We'd all shared many an hour kayaking and canoeing in the back country, but we realized that none of us had been to the reef for years.

We sailed out into the blue water, saw a turtle and flying fish, then turned around and hooked up to a mooring near Marker 32. There were a couple of sharks in the water, but two of the guys snorkeled anyway. I stayed board, just to make sure the boat didn't break loose or anything.

Anyway, the reef looked good and the water looked clean. The weather was beautiful, and that thin strip of islands we call home seemed far away, along with it's problems and hassles.

It was good to see that which 99% of the tourists never get to see, and to remember why we came here, and to be reminded just how wonderful this small part of God's great creation really is.