Mine were steady
Charles wakes up in the middle of the night, sounds of waves clashing against the wood, splashes of water climbing the small rounded windows, refracting briefly the lightning that mercilessly falls over the ocean. He is a man in his prime, a loader working all around the world, with a crew of fellow tough men, all more used to the sway of the sea, than the firmness of the land. But tonight, they all tremble, for the fearful storm has caught them, Chalie knew it, now it was their turn to fight. He heard the stories, he remebered, this comes for all crews of sailors, once in their lifetime, and no matter how much one tries to avoid, it is inevitable, a force of nature, of light, sound, water and fury, to put the bravest to the test.
He gets to the cabin, only to find all the others already there, some have blankets over their shoulders, some have lamps on their hands, because the night is dark and cold, same as their hearts. They look at each other, in silence, all knowing what is happening, the Storm has come, and now it’s their turn, to rise, to prove they have what’s best, that they are not empty men, with empty souls. The commander, lost in his own toughts, takes a deep breath: “Let us pray”, he says, and then begins, a fierce pray, not of fear, but of faith, spoken in a firm tone, a clear voice, and clenched fists. They shiver, with a sudden surge of strenght and courage, their muscles strained, in just a moment, they all know what to do. If the Storm is tough, they will be tougher. They run and assume their posts, Charlie climbs up to the main mast, the captain shouts orders with rage, and with rage they go, and raise to the occasion, each one perfectly working in his job.
The Storm seems to know, to feel the resistance, thunder and lightning are now more intense, and so are the waves that repeatedly hit the ship. The vessel climbs the immense dark towers of water, and falls, narrowly escaping the disgrace. Waves of bad feelings also threaten to overcome their spirit, but every men is at their best, resolute they move, decisively and fast, to keep afloat, to navigate through the gates of a hell of water and foam. Again, and again, and again, the ocean tosses the ship around, like child’s play, the hull seems that’s about to break, unlike the men’s will, that seems to harden with every blow. Charles feels an adrenaline rush, his blood about to boil, his muscles tight like rock, his voice screaming louder than the storm.
Central mast is now gone, and damaged is the bow. Vainly they try, and run, and shout. The oldest sailor – he seen so much – knows it’s the end. “Kid”, he says to Charles, “Our time has passed, we can now rest”. But the young man still trusts his strength, and says “No, old sport, we still have courage in our veins”. He quickly moves to the deck below, to mend a rift in the hull, there he meets another man, who hopelessly looks as the water flows, the breach is huge, and irreversible. The ship will meet his fate, the crew is doomed. The captain calls both men, and gathers all the crew. To his cabin, they all go.
Thunder, lightning and waves rock the boat, it’s almost impossible to stand, but standing still they manage to remain. “Fellow sailors, let us pray again, for now our lives are ‘bout to end. Be grateful, and repent, and say goodbye to family and friends, search for them, in your hearts, and ye shall find. May God lead you to the paradise above, to his embrace.” Charles now feels the boiling again. He clenches his fists, and bids farewell. Leaves the room, in silence, amidst thunder and rain, and climbs the rear mast. To the top, he goes, efortlessly, like many times before. A vortex appears, not below, but above, for though the void now claims their bodies, heavens, opened, claims their souls.
He sees as an unsurmounting wave forms ahead, and he shouts, louder than the storm, a sound that cuts and pierces, a roar of courage, in the face of death. Of the storm, he is not afraid, for he is now thunder, and rain, and wave, as he meets, bravely, his fate.