Sailing On A Dream

            I wondered why this had to happen at this time – after dark and in the roughest seas we had experienced so far.  The one thing in our favor was that the moon was up – not full, but bright enough to give us a fair amount of light.

            I lowered all the sails while Phyllis got out a hoisting plank and Rick put on his jacket. The plan was to attach the hoisting plank to the staysail halyard and use the hoisting plank as a seat for Rick.  Phyllis and I would hoist Rick up the mast with the staysail halyard.  Then I would hoist the mainsail halyard to Rick using the jib halyard. Once at the top, Rick would re-tie the mainsail halyard, then we would lower Rick and raise the mainsail and be on our way.

            But it wasn't going to be easy.  Phyllis and I would have to use pure muscle to raise Rick, and if we let go then Rick could very well fall to his death.  Rick would also be among many ropes and cables which would compound the problem.

            Soon everything was prepared to raise Rick up the mast.  It was a tense moment.  I could see fear in Phyllis’ face and I could feel the adrenalin in my blood.

            “Do everything exactly as I say,” Rick advised. I could hear the tenseness in his voice, but it was devoid of any contempt, arrogance or anger that was so often there.  “And respond – loudly – to all instructions."

            “Okay,” I responded.  He didn't have to impress the import of the situation on me.

            “Be careful, Rick,” Phyllis pleaded.  Rick didn’t respond.  Phyllis and I began to hoist Rick up the mast.

            My thought was “This is real!”  There was no practicing, and there was no second chance.  We only had this one shot, and if we made a mistake it could be fatal.  If there were any tests, this was it.  Rick was hanging on a literal life­line and he was depending on Phyllis and I to keep him from falling to his death.  It was a strange feeling, and I was surprised how calm I was, yet I was far from cavalier about it.  I also couldn’t erase from my mind what would happen if Rick should fall.  He would probably die, which would mean Phyllis and I would have to sail the Suena – for our lives – the rest of the way to Australia; we were too far to go back to Koror, and there were no other places nearer we could comfortably have gone at this point.  Neither Phyllis nor I were experienced at sailing, and we had quite a distance of open ocean sailing to do, not to mention some tricky navigation through one more straight just before Darwin.  Somehow, though, I knew we could do it, sail to Australia on our own if we had to – I had no doubt – but I didn’t want the opportunity to find out.