deck.
A wreck, he said to himself as he drew the dinghy alongside and dropped in its oars. Thatâs what weâve hit, he said to himself as he took off his sneakers. Lots of them in these waters and weâve struck one. Either a new one or an old one that has shifted its lie too recently to be on the chart in the right place. Thatâs what itâs got to be.
He lowered the ladder over the side and, not knowing what was under the surface, lowered himself cautiously into the water, thinking that should they have to take to it they would be frozen dead within five minutes. He took a deep breath and submerged to assess the damage, the danger.
He never told the Thayers when he got back on board what he had found below nor did he consult the chart to see whether the reef they had struck was on it. He never had to tell them, he never had to consult the chart. Nor did he have to tell them that had the boat been a modern one its plastic hull would have split at the seam like a nut and gone down with all hands aboard before there was time even to don life jackets. One chartered by a neophyte sailor and his wife and children had done just that this very season in these very waters andâwhile horrified, helpless spectators watched from shoreâsank in seconds.
What Tony had done was shocking, inexcusableâhardly believable. On even the smallest pleasure craft the captain was the captain, the same as on an ocean liner. At sea his word was law. Laxness in carrying out his orders might not be punishable by being put in irons or hanged from the yard-arm, but it was the crewâs duty, even when they were his close friends, to obey them. A boat was potentially a dangerous place and somebody had to be in command of it. In turn, it was the crewâs right to expect their captain to be alert at all times. To his seamanship they entrusted their safety.
A sailor since he could walk, descendant of a long line of sea captains, nobody knew better than Tony that of all derelictions of the captainâs duty inattention to the chart was the most egregious. That he could have committed it, thereby putting in jeopardy the lives of his wife and his closest friend, disclosed the depth of his continuing distraction of mind. It also, by its very enormity, silenced any criticism of him. He must have been drinking down below long before bringing up drinks for all. People smile, but the agony endures .â¦
He had toweled a tingle of warmth back into his body numbed by the icy water when Pris came from the forward quarters and joined him in the cabin.
âAnything I can do?â he asked.
She had done it all. Had washed Tonyâs bloody face and bandaged his cut and put him to bed to sleep it off. She shook her head. He was chilled by the look in her eyes of dull, detached, uncaring apathy. She was weary of Tonyâs suffering. It reminded her of her own.
But life went on and one dutifully reenacted its rituals, reminders though these were of a lost innocence that was now almost an accusation. And so, once inside the harbor, he cut the engine and dropped anchor at their old spot. At the time that inaugurated the custom about to be observed Christy could have been no more than two years old, his own Anthony not yet born.
While the charcoal in the grill grayed with ash they sat in the cockpit having a drink, all acting as though nothing untoward had happened yesterday, their thoughts on what awaited them at home. Surely the Thayers were thinking already of that; he was, and he had a lot less to think about than they. In fact, he was impatient to get home now, for he had resolved on this cruise to have things out with Cathy, settle their trifling dispute, and get them on a better understanding. The troubles of their friends had made him realize how lucky they were, how petty their squabbles. Trout season was over for the year, but he was considering suggesting a second honeymoon at the club. These were to be his last
A wreck, he said to himself as he drew the dinghy alongside and dropped in its oars. Thatâs what weâve hit, he said to himself as he took off his sneakers. Lots of them in these waters and weâve struck one. Either a new one or an old one that has shifted its lie too recently to be on the chart in the right place. Thatâs what itâs got to be.
He lowered the ladder over the side and, not knowing what was under the surface, lowered himself cautiously into the water, thinking that should they have to take to it they would be frozen dead within five minutes. He took a deep breath and submerged to assess the damage, the danger.
He never told the Thayers when he got back on board what he had found below nor did he consult the chart to see whether the reef they had struck was on it. He never had to tell them, he never had to consult the chart. Nor did he have to tell them that had the boat been a modern one its plastic hull would have split at the seam like a nut and gone down with all hands aboard before there was time even to don life jackets. One chartered by a neophyte sailor and his wife and children had done just that this very season in these very waters andâwhile horrified, helpless spectators watched from shoreâsank in seconds.
What Tony had done was shocking, inexcusableâhardly believable. On even the smallest pleasure craft the captain was the captain, the same as on an ocean liner. At sea his word was law. Laxness in carrying out his orders might not be punishable by being put in irons or hanged from the yard-arm, but it was the crewâs duty, even when they were his close friends, to obey them. A boat was potentially a dangerous place and somebody had to be in command of it. In turn, it was the crewâs right to expect their captain to be alert at all times. To his seamanship they entrusted their safety.
A sailor since he could walk, descendant of a long line of sea captains, nobody knew better than Tony that of all derelictions of the captainâs duty inattention to the chart was the most egregious. That he could have committed it, thereby putting in jeopardy the lives of his wife and his closest friend, disclosed the depth of his continuing distraction of mind. It also, by its very enormity, silenced any criticism of him. He must have been drinking down below long before bringing up drinks for all. People smile, but the agony endures .â¦
He had toweled a tingle of warmth back into his body numbed by the icy water when Pris came from the forward quarters and joined him in the cabin.
âAnything I can do?â he asked.
She had done it all. Had washed Tonyâs bloody face and bandaged his cut and put him to bed to sleep it off. She shook her head. He was chilled by the look in her eyes of dull, detached, uncaring apathy. She was weary of Tonyâs suffering. It reminded her of her own.
But life went on and one dutifully reenacted its rituals, reminders though these were of a lost innocence that was now almost an accusation. And so, once inside the harbor, he cut the engine and dropped anchor at their old spot. At the time that inaugurated the custom about to be observed Christy could have been no more than two years old, his own Anthony not yet born.
While the charcoal in the grill grayed with ash they sat in the cockpit having a drink, all acting as though nothing untoward had happened yesterday, their thoughts on what awaited them at home. Surely the Thayers were thinking already of that; he was, and he had a lot less to think about than they. In fact, he was impatient to get home now, for he had resolved on this cruise to have things out with Cathy, settle their trifling dispute, and get them on a better understanding. The troubles of their friends had made him realize how lucky they were, how petty their squabbles. Trout season was over for the year, but he was considering suggesting a second honeymoon at the club. These were to be his last
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