04-21-2022, 12:01 AM
I was actually on the fence about writing this. It has so much potential to turn into a nice story, but it is a dark one. And while I'm no stranger to the feeling of sharing such things in here, I'm not entirely sure whether this one crosses a line or not... I guess that's up to you to decide.
I have always been a nature-loving guy and I connect to Earth's miracles on the spiritual level, with my heart and soul racing whenever I lay my eyes on some open, undisturbed area. That's actually why I actually enjoyed moving to a rural area once, and why I learned to love this as well.
When my cousin and I started hanging out (at the suggestion/order of our mothers), we really didn't have that much in common and it was a very awkward experience. He was into model cars, video-games and fishing... I was into cartoons, planes and baseball. We often just stood there, staring at our shoes for the duration of the "play session". We weren't shy about our discomfort, but what could we do? We eventually figured it out and started hanging on the cul-de-sac he called home and out of it as well, getting in trouble and causing some trouble of our own as well. Those were actually golden days and some of the highlights of my life, but they were just going to get better.
... Because we sailed together.
I'll never forget the day I got the phone call... I was invited to join him and my other relatives at the sea club, where their small fishing boat was docked. We were to hang around ships of all shapes and sizes, coming from places as close by as Uruguay and as far away as China. We got to walk the coast and smell the recently-caught fish. We got to sit at a resort and even go "off road". We even found the rotten remains of what had once been a treehouse - the only one I have ever seen.
We did this with amazing regularity all throughout the Spring and Summer of 2002.
Our relationship finally clicked at one point and we genuinely enjoyed each other's company. He'd take me to a nearby parking lot and unleash all his expertise on cars on me, which I honestly found pretty interesting. We rarely saw the same cars in there, so it the experience remained quite fresh. Still, we wanted more... and by God, we got it.
After several failed attempts, my uncle finally got my mom's blessing to take me on board for a couple of passes around the bay, promising to never cross into open waters. It was a mind-blowing experience and one that filled my heart with unparalleled joy, whilst my lungs were filled with the freshest air yet. Even though I got so seasick that they had to signal a passing motorboat to take me to land again, I didn't care. My head spun like crazy under the weight of such life-long memories being made.
I got to learn a lot of "sailor's talk" (not actually cursing, which I knew plenty of, but actually maritime jargon) and I got to enjoy being at sea with my friend. I cast my lines, I played with the rudder for a bit and even went to take a nap on the beds inside. It was something so pure, so magical... I truly wished it would last forever.
But alas, eternity has many meanings...
There's another day I'll never forget and not at all for happy reasons.
My cousin and I were summoned for yet another fishing trip, but we couldn't make it... so the fishing boat left without us, right into the horizon. Right into a coming storm.
I still don't know why, but my uncle ignored a Coast Guard warning and left the harbor moments before it was closed to all navigation due to "adverse weather conditions". Both my uncle and the two crew members he brought along for the ride were experienced sailors, but it was simply not enough. A massive storm swept through the area and the boat never returned, all communication with it being lost a few hours into the scheduled route.
Of course, desperate attempts were made to locate either the boat or its crew members, with my cousin standing by the pier on every single day, wishing for the best and being unable to be reached by human talk. Nothing I could ever say would pry him back from his desperation.
The boat was eventually found, knocked to its side and taking water on insignificant enough quantities to avoid capsizing, but serious enough to not be righted on its own. Only one problem: it was empty.
What happened next, I don't really remember... all I know is that all hands were lost and that the search was called off after all reasonable chances of finding any survivors had run out.
My cousin was never the same, nor was our relationship. Neither was I.
His family recovered and sold off the boat as soon as it was in sailing conditions again, not wanting anything to do with it anymore. And without a boat, there was no sea club membership, either, so we stopped going there. We grew apart tremendously as a result of such experience and I eventually stopped seeing him, now being completely unsure of where he is or how he is doing.
I loved the sea. I enjoyed feeling the wind on my hair, the sound of seagulls making fun of us, the thrill of battling a fish, the slightly repugnant smell, the dizziness I never got over, the annoyance of having a wave soaking me wet when I was never expecting it... but now, the only strong feeling I have for the sea is hatred.
I never sailed again and I never will. I'm permanently turned off from the whole thing and quite scarred as a result. I'd only fish from afar, on moonless nights and only to take in the beautiful sights, not really wanting to get close to any significant body of water. Knowing that the very water I travelled could betray me like that, understanding that I'd be just a dot on the immensity of the sea if something were to happen... yeah, not fun.
I... don't even know how to end this, in the same sense that I didn't know how to write it or why I did it.
Thanks for reading, in any case.
I have always been a nature-loving guy and I connect to Earth's miracles on the spiritual level, with my heart and soul racing whenever I lay my eyes on some open, undisturbed area. That's actually why I actually enjoyed moving to a rural area once, and why I learned to love this as well.
When my cousin and I started hanging out (at the suggestion/order of our mothers), we really didn't have that much in common and it was a very awkward experience. He was into model cars, video-games and fishing... I was into cartoons, planes and baseball. We often just stood there, staring at our shoes for the duration of the "play session". We weren't shy about our discomfort, but what could we do? We eventually figured it out and started hanging on the cul-de-sac he called home and out of it as well, getting in trouble and causing some trouble of our own as well. Those were actually golden days and some of the highlights of my life, but they were just going to get better.
... Because we sailed together.
I'll never forget the day I got the phone call... I was invited to join him and my other relatives at the sea club, where their small fishing boat was docked. We were to hang around ships of all shapes and sizes, coming from places as close by as Uruguay and as far away as China. We got to walk the coast and smell the recently-caught fish. We got to sit at a resort and even go "off road". We even found the rotten remains of what had once been a treehouse - the only one I have ever seen.
We did this with amazing regularity all throughout the Spring and Summer of 2002.
Our relationship finally clicked at one point and we genuinely enjoyed each other's company. He'd take me to a nearby parking lot and unleash all his expertise on cars on me, which I honestly found pretty interesting. We rarely saw the same cars in there, so it the experience remained quite fresh. Still, we wanted more... and by God, we got it.
After several failed attempts, my uncle finally got my mom's blessing to take me on board for a couple of passes around the bay, promising to never cross into open waters. It was a mind-blowing experience and one that filled my heart with unparalleled joy, whilst my lungs were filled with the freshest air yet. Even though I got so seasick that they had to signal a passing motorboat to take me to land again, I didn't care. My head spun like crazy under the weight of such life-long memories being made.
I got to learn a lot of "sailor's talk" (not actually cursing, which I knew plenty of, but actually maritime jargon) and I got to enjoy being at sea with my friend. I cast my lines, I played with the rudder for a bit and even went to take a nap on the beds inside. It was something so pure, so magical... I truly wished it would last forever.
But alas, eternity has many meanings...
There's another day I'll never forget and not at all for happy reasons.
My cousin and I were summoned for yet another fishing trip, but we couldn't make it... so the fishing boat left without us, right into the horizon. Right into a coming storm.
I still don't know why, but my uncle ignored a Coast Guard warning and left the harbor moments before it was closed to all navigation due to "adverse weather conditions". Both my uncle and the two crew members he brought along for the ride were experienced sailors, but it was simply not enough. A massive storm swept through the area and the boat never returned, all communication with it being lost a few hours into the scheduled route.
Of course, desperate attempts were made to locate either the boat or its crew members, with my cousin standing by the pier on every single day, wishing for the best and being unable to be reached by human talk. Nothing I could ever say would pry him back from his desperation.
The boat was eventually found, knocked to its side and taking water on insignificant enough quantities to avoid capsizing, but serious enough to not be righted on its own. Only one problem: it was empty.
What happened next, I don't really remember... all I know is that all hands were lost and that the search was called off after all reasonable chances of finding any survivors had run out.
My cousin was never the same, nor was our relationship. Neither was I.
His family recovered and sold off the boat as soon as it was in sailing conditions again, not wanting anything to do with it anymore. And without a boat, there was no sea club membership, either, so we stopped going there. We grew apart tremendously as a result of such experience and I eventually stopped seeing him, now being completely unsure of where he is or how he is doing.
I loved the sea. I enjoyed feeling the wind on my hair, the sound of seagulls making fun of us, the thrill of battling a fish, the slightly repugnant smell, the dizziness I never got over, the annoyance of having a wave soaking me wet when I was never expecting it... but now, the only strong feeling I have for the sea is hatred.
I never sailed again and I never will. I'm permanently turned off from the whole thing and quite scarred as a result. I'd only fish from afar, on moonless nights and only to take in the beautiful sights, not really wanting to get close to any significant body of water. Knowing that the very water I travelled could betray me like that, understanding that I'd be just a dot on the immensity of the sea if something were to happen... yeah, not fun.
I... don't even know how to end this, in the same sense that I didn't know how to write it or why I did it.
Thanks for reading, in any case.
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